Chapter Nine:
The Chamber of Secrets

He blinked. "Danielle..." He had reverted to English, though it would not have mattered either way. "How-?"

My lips quivered. There was a note of anger in his voice that he had not ever used with me before. But there was also disbelief, and for that, I could not help but feel sickeningly proud. I had caught him, at last. "I f-followed you," I stammered, then added, before he could protest, "I was worried about you, Tom! You should have told me, and I would not have had to!"

It would have been an awkward scene, had anyone walked in after me. There I stood, just in the doorway of the girls' lavatories, stiffly staring at the boy who was protruding from the wall. I wrapped the ends of my hair nervously around my fingers, weaving the strands around them before letting them fall again. The anger on Tom's face dissipated to what was almost disappointment. "You should have stayed," he croaked, and struggled to pull himself from the opening. I raced to help him, but he waved my hand away.

"P-please forgive me, Tom!" I choked, feeling hurt.

He sighed. "It was bound to happen. You were bound to wonder... I have not hidden this well enough."

"I am sorry..." I said meekly.

He motioned for me to stand beside him in the middle of the tiled floor, just before the hole. "I am going to tell you all that I can without putting you in danger. I had meant to wait, but now..."

I looked down at my feet.

"Do you have the locket I gave you?" he asked.

"Yes, it is here." I lowered my neck and pulled the delicate chain over my head. I let it rest in my palm for a moment before it slid into his outstretched fingers.

"The reason that you can understand me," he began in Parseltongue, "lies within this locket... and Salazar Slytherin. Come."

He took my hand in order to lead me to the hole. Then, he dropped it and smiled somberly as he disappeared inside of it. I peered after him incredulously. I was–most obviously–to follow, but I hesitated with my foot half-dangling into the inky blackness that the opening had created. Something was not right about it.

I swallowed and gingerly lifted myself inside. The pipe–for it was a pipe, I discovered–smelled of rotting sewage; the aged debris and mold were caked along the rusting, iron sides. I felt a layer of slime ooze beneath my fingers when I placed them beside me, preparing to propel myself down the disgusting passage. I held my breath and let myself slowly slide along until I had picked up to a considerable speed.

Other, smaller pipes whisked past me as I was roughly jerked from side to side to follow the cylindrical course. The surface was an uneven one, so many a time I felt myself bruise on a particularly unstable turn. My hair was flattened against my scalp and streamed behind me; tiny strands were occasionally pulled from their roots, so great was the force at which I sped by.

Finally, the darkness was broken by a flickering glow that I recognized as the end of my wretched journey. I saw Tom's face poke into it and obstruct the light. He called my name.

"I am coming, Tom!" I answered to his queries, trying to slow myself to a halt; an impossible task, I was moving too quickly.

I panicked, but managed to rid of my fear in time to be hurled from the mouth of the pipe. I screamed as I twisted in the dank air.

"Sh," Tom whispered, clapping a hand over my mouth after I had landed safely in his arms. "You might wake It."

"Wake what?" I asked, my voice muffled. I was slightly stunned as I glanced at his face; my heart nearly stopped before it sped to beat in a brisk, irregular pattern.

This is not the time for thoughts like... like that! I silently scolded myself.

The torches, resting in brackets that had been set into the wall, cast shadows on his skin; their light glinted in his eyes. His jaw was set in firm determination, his thin lips slightly parted. A few strands of his ebony locks–he had let them grow out a bit–fell into his eyes, disturbed from their place when he had hastened to reach me. His gaunt face looked haunted, but it only garnished his handsome features. I had not noticed him in that way since my fourth year. But my feelings had been rekindled in the blink of an eye. I was thankful that the torches also disguised the blush that had crept its way on to my cheeks.

He withdrew his hand from my mouth. It had felt rough and calloused pressed gently against my lips.

"Welcome, Danielle," he whispered, setting me down, "to the Chamber of Secrets." He left me for a moment to stand between two tall, statuesque serpents that stood pillar-like as if guarding something. "Open," he murmured in Parseltongue. He turned to look back at me from over his shoulder. "You must tell no one of this place, ever. Swear you won't."

"There is no one for me to tell," I reminded him.

"Swear to me, Danielle!" His eyes gleamed madly.

"I swear," I hissed, quietly fearful.

He nodded approvingly as an entryway appeared before us. It opened into a vast stone chamber. Our footsteps echoed in the cavernous room as Tom led me to an enormous statue. It towered above us; I gaped at it in awe. The pathway we stood upon was flanked by still channels of water, reflecting a greenish, serpentine pattern upon our faces and that of the primitive-looking monument.

"Tom, how did you discover such a place?" I gasped, pivoting and craning my neck to take in all that surrounded us.

"Can you not see it?" he asked, his eyes flashing. He paused. "I am the heir of Salazar Slytherin..."

My hands fell limply to my sides. "What! Tom, you... you cannot be!"

"And why is that?" he spat maliciously.

"You just cannot!" I had fallen to the floor on my knees. "You cannot... I will not believe it..."

"But you must, Danielle! I thought you would be able to understand! That is why I gave you the locket! I see now that it was a mistake." He stared at me, the last traces of warmth vanishing from his face.

He dropped my locket to the ground, letting it clatter upon the stones. It fell open, revealing a tiny silver key.

"What is this?" I asked, temporarily forgetting his anger. I took it gently in my fingers as I reached for it; my legs still planted to the floor.

"A key," he snapped coldly, pacing furiously at the far end of the chamber. "It unlocks all that is linked to this place. Surely it is obvious... surely... surely..." He fell silent.

"Is everything alright, Tom?"

"I thought that... perhaps... you would have accepted me..."

"Tom?"

"Nothing. Leave if you must. It matters not to me."

He lay a hand at rest on one of the great folds of the statue's garb. The other was clenched in a fist. His back was to me, and I could see his shoulders shaking. "I thought... that at least you..." His strained voice trailed off into nothing, deadened by the closeness of the stone.

I hung my head shamefully and in sorrow, hot tears running along the bridge of my nose and dropping to form wet puddles on my legs. "I am so sorry..."