Chapter Twelve:
The Bridge Between Sanity and Madness

Tom's eyes widened, and for a fleeting moment, he glanced into mine. Our gazes locked in silent understanding before we simultaneously turned and raced down the corridor where we had last heard the cry. Tom was much faster than I, his feet hammering loudly and drowning out my own steps. My fingers were clenched tightly around a small section of my robe in an attempt to keep the material up from my path. I felt a lump in my throat for the apprehension of what we might discover at the source of the scream. From the look that Tom had given me, I had seen something rare. There had been a flicker of surprise shrouded in a gleam of fear. Anything that frightened him was sure to cause me sheer terror. But I had noticed something else, as well. I was not sure if he had meant to betray the guilt that shone purely from that slight glance. Though, it was the most apparent. Oh, God, I thought, What has he done?

The next corner that we turned revealed a scene of panic and chaos. It seemed that we had not been quick enough—for all our haste—to reach it before a crowd could gather. I clutched the metal shoulder of a suit of armor to support myself. I doubled over and gasped; I was unaccustomed to such sudden spurts of physical activity. When I was able to stand upright, I saw Tom pushing his way to the center of the throng. In fact, they drew back, despite their obvious curiosity, to let us pass, closing the gaps immediately behind us as we pushed further forward. Whispers flew and spread quickly like a greedy, devouring flame.

When I saw what had caused the screams, I gasped and turned away. I peered at Tom through trembling fingers. His face had gone deathly white, though it was impossible to read his thoughts.

In the center of the corridor was a girl. Her red hair was strewn over the stones, surrounding her head in a firey mane. Her thin lips were slightly parted, and her brown eyes were wide, a look of shock. She lay spread-eagled with her robes clinging to her in tatters. She bore no traces of blood, or even of being harmed at all. The girl seemed to have been facing a window when she had fallen, and to her chest was pinned the badge of Head Girl.

"Tom?" I asked timidly. I stepped over her limp arm to stand beside him.

"She is alive," he croaked, barely audible.

"What happened to her?"

He placed his shaking hands on either of my shoulders and looked squarely into my eyes. I swallowed, fearful. "Do you remember why," he murmured, "you are never permitted to look into the eyes of the Basilisk?" I nodded and waited for him to continue. "That girl"—he motioned to the body—"has been petrified. By the Basilisk."

"But how-?"

"She did not look at it... exactly. You see the window? She is facing it, correct? The monster came to her from behind, there is no other way..." He glanced at the nervous crown behind my shoulder and demanded for someone to fetch the Headmaster. A bobbing second-year Hufflepuff obeyed. Gravely, he brought his attention back to me. "Do you know what this means, Danielle? The Basilisk will not obey my commands any longer. I-" Distracted, he returned his gaze to those curiously staring over my shoulder. "Come." He grasped my sweating hand and pulled me along until we reached the dungeons.

"Ow, Tom, you are hurting me! Where-?" I cried. Tears stung the corners of my eyes as I looked around me. I had never been to that part of the castle before, so I was entirely unsure of what Tom's intentions were.

"Sh," he hissed. "Can you not hear it as I do?" He held his finger to my lips and I fell silent, listening. Soon, I began to notice of what he was speaking.

A slithering sound echoed through the pipes above us. It was faint at first, but it grew louder even as we stood there. A chilling voice accompanied it.

Kill... destroy...

I yelped in spite of myself. Tom clamped his entire hand over my mouth in a firm grip. "Be quiet," he ordered silently, "or it will find us." I shuddered and relaxed under his touch. Only when the serpent had long since left us did he release me.

"From now on, Danielle, you must never enter the Chamber again. Ever. You heard what It said." He did not meet my gaze. There was something vital that he had left out, and was hiding from me, purposefully elusive.

"You think it will kill me?" I asked, sounding calmer than I felt. My blood had momentarily run cold.

He shook his head slowly. "Not you."

"Why? Tell me, Tom. Hiding the answers will not keep me from harm, or anyone else, for that matter. You know that." My tone turned bitter, and he hung his head.

"It will not attack... Purebloods... Only Muggle-borns... and squibs..."

My hands flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp. "You mean...?" It was hardly necessary for me to continue a though that didn't require being voiced in the first place. We both knew—Tom more than I—what had caused Salazar Slytherin to create the Chamber and leave Hogwarts. We both knew that he had despised and looked down upon the "filth" he called Mudbloods. And we knew... I knew... that the Basilisk had decided to once again serve its master and begin its task to rid the school of those found unworthy, in his eyes, to study magic.

My head swam. "We have to stop it, Tom!" I cried shrilly. "We have to—whatever is the matter?" I resisted stroking an ebony lock from his clouded face, settling for placing my hand on his arm. He recoiled, and I drew back my hand, hurt.

"It is terrible, Danielle..." he muttered. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Terrible..." He seemed to be half speaking to himself and half to me. It pained me to see him in that mad state. My heart throbbed with pity and my relentless emotions.

"Tom?"

He began to pace. Not even my words were powerful enough to reach him. He muttered, cursing and pleading, under his breath, suddenly oblivious to everything. When he finally came to an abrupt halt, his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I have been horrible, Danielle..." he whispered. "The Basilisk is not the true monster here..."

"You are not a monster, Tom," I told him firmly.

"What have I done, Danielle!" he cried, shaking me by my shoulders. "What have I done!" he let me go and grabbed at the dungeon wall.

"You have not done anything!" I sobbed.

"But I have." He grinned like a madman. "I am the one that sent the Basilisk."

His words sent me into a dead faint.