A/N: I am so sorry for the wait, guys! I had a ridiculously busy weekend; anyone who's ever been involved in a production of some kind will understand, I'm sure. But I feel horribly guilty and promise to update tomorrow! If anyone's still reading this, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Nine:
He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost to darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish glow that filled the place.
His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?
He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.
Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: it was ancient and monkey-like, with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth chamber floor.
And there, between its feet, lay a small figure with flaming red hair. "Ginny!" Harry's breath caught in his throat, and, forgetting the danger, he ran forward and dropped to his knees.
"Ginny don't be dead, please don't be dead!" He flung his wand aside and grabbed her shoulders.
Ginny was lying face down and when he turned her over, her skin was as cold as marble, but her eyes were closed, so she couldn't be petrified. He could feel tears gathering in his eyes as he shock, desperate to make her wake. She couldn't be dead. Ginny was his best friend. He'd known her his whole life. She couldn't be dead.
"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.
"She won't wake," said a soft voice.
Harry swung around to see a tall, black haired boy leaning against the next pillar, watching.
"Who are you?" He asked, gently moving Ginny so that she was lying behind him. The stranger's words registered and he looked up sharply. "What do you mean she won't wake? She's not – she's not – ?
"She's still alive," said the boy. "But only just."
"Who are you?" Harry repeated "What are you doing here?"
The boy straightened and slowly began to walk over. Harry looked desperately around for his wand, but it was nowhere to be found.
"My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I guess you could say that I'm the soul of little Ginny's diary." He had a strange smirk on his face, but Harry was too preoccupied to pay it much attention.
"You're what?" he asked, stunned. "Her diary?" to say Harry was confused would be a gross understatement.
"Oh yes," Riddle said. "Little Ginny's been writing in me all year. About how it was so unfair that everyone else got to go to Hogwarts except her. How lonely she was all alone, without any of her friends."
Harry felt a sharp twinge of guilt, but he was so confused that he let it pass.
"It's very boring you know, listening to the whining of a ten year old girl."
Riddle seemed to be enjoying Harry's discomfort, as he pulled a wand from his pocket and began lazily twirling it around in his fingers. He put on a high pitched voice that Harry knew sounded nothing like Ginny. "Oh Tom, I'm so sad all alone here, while my friends and brothers are all having fun at Hogwarts. They probably won't even want to be near me when they come home, because I'm just stupid little Ginny, too young to do anything. But you're my friend, aren't you Tom. You'll never leave me."
Harry felt a chill creep up his spine at the look of hatred on Riddle's face. He was starting to think that this Tom might be the reason Ginny was here in the first place. His eyes caught on the wand in Riddle's hand, and widened.
"Hey, that's my wand! Do you mind giving it back?" A smile curled the edges of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly.
Wary, but frustrated, Harry bent to pick up Ginny's limp form.
"Listen," he said urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go! If the Basilisk comes..."
"It won't come until it is called," said Riddle calmly.
Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Look, give me my wand. I might need it."
Riddle's smile broadened.
"You won't be needing it," he said.
Harry stared at him, feeling a rising dread. "How did Ginny get like this?" He asked slowly.
"Well, I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all of her secret to an invisible stranger."
"What are you talking about?" said Harry.
"As I said, it's very boring having to listen to the silly little troubles of a ten year old girl." Riddle continued. "But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in ... it's like having a little friend I can carry round in my pocket..."
He laughed a cold, high laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Harry's neck.
"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her..."
"What do you mean?" said Harry, whose mouth had gone very dry.
"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She wrote those messages, and let loose the Basilisk on those unsuspecting students. On your sister..."
"No," Harry whispered.
"Yes," said Riddle calmly. "Of course she didn't know what she was doing at first. But in the weeks leading up to the first attack, I was taking her over, testing my limits. And then the Quidditch games. Didn't you ever think it strange that the attacks only happened on days when Gryffindor played Quidditch? That Ginny always left before the attacks? But she had no memory of it. She even wrote to you about it; that she was blanking out, couldn't remember anything that happened that day. I was possessing her, but you just shrugged her off."
Harry felt the horror of the realisation dawn on him. If only he'd told someone...
"And then, after the second attack, she started to make the connection," he continued. "The memories were locked away during her waking hours, but in her dreams ... she became suspicious. So I turned it round. Told her that she was the one attacking the students. Her own, horrible, subconscious mind. Killing her friends. She tried to tell someone. She even managed to write something in your letter, but by then I was too strong for her. So I made her come to Hogwarts, write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait."
He paused and smirked at Harry before continuing. "And while we waited, I told her all about how it was her fault that she was here, her fault that I would be released back into the world, but most of all, her fault that you would die."
Harry stared up at him in confusion. "Me?"
"Yes Harry, you see, Ginny told me about your unusual history. How you vanquished the Dark Lord. Before that, I had been planning to wait until Ginny went to school next year before unleashing the Basilisk on the mudbloods. But then, my new target became you. I wanted to know how an insignificant little infant managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time. Tell me, Harry, how did you do it?"
"What's it matter to you? Voldemort was after your time." Harry said warily.
"You're wrong, Harry," Riddle said "Voldemort is my past, present and future..."
He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace three words,
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
Slowly, the letters re-arranged until they spelt:
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the name before him. How was it possible that this ... boy could be the most feared dark wizard in history?
"You see?" Riddle whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry. I fashioned myself a new name, a name which I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak."
"Oh, little Ginny was so distraught when I revealed myself to her." Riddle went on. "Especially when I told her that she was the reason I would once more be released upon the world. She cried for hours. At least," Tom smirked "Until I gained enough strength to curse her. Are you familiar with the Cruciatus Curse, Harry?"
Harry could feel himself shaking with the pent up rage and fear he was feeling. That he could have used the Cruciatus on Ginny...
"She had to be punished, you see," Riddle said, his face twisting into a horrifying mask of rage. "The brat had the impudence to disobey me! She was supposed to bring you down to the Chamber with her. But apparently, she still maintained some small shred of free will. Though I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it? Her sacrifice was in vain ... Now I have you, and the Wizarding World will once again be forced to bow to the greatest sorcerer in the world!"
Harry's brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry's own parents, and so many others ... At last he forced himself to speak.
"You're not," he said, his quiet voice full of hatred.
"Not what?" snapped Riddle.
"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you, and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try to take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days."
The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.
"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.
"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true.
Harry stared defiantly at Riddle, knowing that it was unlikely either he or Ginny would escape, but unwilling to give in. He was about to open his mouth; to say what, he wasn't sure, when he heard music. The music seemed to come from everywhere at once, and filled his heart with hope.
Riddle whirled around and stared down the empty chamber as the music swelled and reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, and a burst of flames erupted from the nearest pillar.
A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music up to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle. In a moment of thrilling clarity, Harry suddenly recognised the glorious bird as it flew straight towards him, dropping the ragged thing it was carrying and landing heavily on his shoulder.
"Fawkes?" Harry breathed, and he felt the phoenix's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently.
"And that – " said Riddle, eyeing the tattered thing that Fawkes had dropped, "That's the old school Sorting Hat."
So it was. Patched, frayed and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry's feet.
Seeing Harry's confusion, Riddle began to laugh again. "Are these the best weapons Dumbledore can send his defender? A songbird and an old hat? Do you feel brave now, Harry Potter?"
Harry didn't answer. He might not see what use Fawkes and the Sorting Hat were, but he was no longer alone, and he waited with mounting courage for Riddle to stop laughing.
"To business Harry," said Riddle, still smiling. "Twice – in your past, in my future – we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "The longer you stay alive."
But Harry was not interested in prolonging this conversation. The longer he waited, the closer Ginny was to death. And in the meantime, Harry noticed, Riddle was becoming clearer. If there was going to be a battle, better to have it now, than later.
"Nobody knows how you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother used her love for Hermione and me to create a spell to save us. My common, Muggle-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And where has all your power gotten you? You're in hiding, exiled, and alone!"
Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile.
"So. A mother's love. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now – there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. Both half-bloods. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike ... But, after all, it was only a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."
Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.
"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore could give him."
He cast an amused eye over Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, then walked away. Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed – but Harry understood what he was saying.
"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder. Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horror struck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.
Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight, he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout "Don't leave me!" but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents?
Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber, Harry felt it shudder. He knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice: "Kill him."
The Basilisk was moving towards Harry, he could hear its heavy body slithering ponderously across the dusty floor. In the back of Harry's mind, he knew he had to get as far away from Ginny as possible, lest the monster hurt her in his attack. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way. Riddle was laughing ...
The next few minutes were terrifying, as Harry ran, hoping desperately that some miracle would occur, something would prevent the inevitable moment when the snake would reach him. The snake was not hurrying, for there was nowhere for Harry to hide. It could afford to take its time.
Harry tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood. The serpent was only feet behind him; he could hear it coming. There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something hit Harry so hard that he was smashed against the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars. He hoped Ron would survive. Maybe the snake would just go back into the statue after it had killed him, and Ron could come and rescue Ginny before Riddle was prepared. If he got her to Madam Pomfrey in time, maybe ...
He couldn't help it. He opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on, as the thrashing got louder and louder.
The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake.
Fawkes was circling around its head, and the Basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs as long and thin as razors. Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood splattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned. But its piercing yellow orbs had been stabbed by the Phoenix, and blood flowed freely from the sockets.
"No," Harry heard Riddle screaming. "Leave the bird! Leave the bird! The boy is behind you! You can still smell him. Kill him!"
The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at the Basilisk's scaly nose as the blood poured from its eyes. With a long thrust of its tail, the Basilisk swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's hands, and in desperation, Harry rammed it onto his head and threw himself straight to the floor as the Basilisk's swept above him once again.
"Help me ... help me ..." Harry thought, his eyes screwed tight under the hat. "Please help me!"
There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly. Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of his head, nearly knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off, and felt something long and hard beneath it.
A gleaming silver sword had appeared from inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.
"Kill the boy! Leave the bird! The boy is behind you! Sniff – smell him!"
Putting his disbelief aside, Harry jumped to his feet, holding the sword ready. The Basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow him whole, lined with fangs long as his sword, thin, glittering, venomous...
It lunged blindly. Harry dodged, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins as it hit the chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed Harry's side. Ignoring the pain, Harry raised the sword in both his hands.
The Basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true. Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth. But as warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the Basilisk keeled over sideways, and fell, twitching, to the floor.
Harry slid down the wall, feeling as though his entire body was on fire. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily through the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The chamber was dissolving in a whirl of colour. He spared a thought for Ginny. At least now the Basilisk was gone, so Ron would have a much better chance of saving her.
A patch of scarlet swam past and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. "Fawkes," said Harry thickly. "You were brilliant, Fawkes..." He felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him.
He could hear echoing footsteps, and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.
"You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."
Harry blinked. Fawkes' head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers. At the back of his mind, Harry could vaguely remember something about Phoenixes and their tears. Something Hermione had once told him, or his mother. Or maybe even Dumbledore. He didn't know. The memory wouldn't come, and he was too tired to think of it now.
"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time, I'm in no hurry."
Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.
"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. Your mother brought you 11 years of borrowed time, but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must. And I'll go after that sister of yours, now, too. No one lives once the Dark Lord decides it is time for them to die..."
Harry felt a flash of anger at that. If only he could... But wait! Instead of going black, the Chamber was coming back into focus. Harry gave his head a little shake, and there was Fawkes, still resting his head on Harry's arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound. Only, there was no wound.
"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him. I said, get away!"
Harry raised his head. Riddle was pointing Harry's wand at Fawkes; there was a bang like a gun, and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.
"Phoenix tears... " said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Of course... healing powers... I forgot..."
He looked into Harry's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter... you and me..."
He raised the wand and Harry felt his heart jump into his throat. Surely he didn't just cheat one death, only to be finished minutes later?
Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap – the diary. He recognised it from Christmas, the little black diary that had so amused Ginny...
For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, acting on an impulse he couldn't explain, as though he had been going to do it all along, Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book.
There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing, and then...
He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The Basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.
Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just travelled miles by Floo Powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the Basilisk's mouth.
There was a faint moan from the other end of the Chamber, and, forgetting his exhaustion, Harry sprinted to Ginny's side. Ginny. She was waking up...