Warnings: Harry on drugs!

Tom Riddle's Diary

Bright colors twirled. Lights dipped.

Stars whirled. Girls bared themselves shamelessly.

Men buried in other men.

The ground waltzed.

The trees hopped.

The sky, the air, the microscopic molecules in the air.

All of it danced.

Cavorted.

Jived.

Harry wasn't sure what those little pills he had swallowed recklessly were, but he was beginning to think it was the best thing he had ever done in his life. He'd never felt so energized, so alert, so fucking alive. But he wasn't supposed to take candy from strangers. Harry giggled. No candy, but muggle drugs? Fan fucking tastic. He continued to dance with the world as if nothing was wrong, and never would be.

"Hey sugar." A voice purred in his ears. Never had anything sounded so erotic to fourteen-year-old Harry. He shivered as her voice travelled up and down his spine before stopping in his groin.

"Hey." He grinned back. As least, he tried to grin, but he was slowly losing control over his body. It acted on his own and he had no power. At least he thought so. Surely he didn't purposely fondle this girl's ass.

"Joyeux Mardi Gras." The voice purred again in bad French barely distinguishable under the heavy Louisiana accent.

But Harry didn't care. He wasn't Roger and finicky about grammar and accents. No he didn't care. About anything, actually, it was all about feeling. Feeling the soft and supple skin of the darkly tanned girl beside him with hair as bright as the sun. Or was it really the sun attached to this girl's head? Harry couldn't tell the difference.

The girl groped into his pants and Harry thought it was best to reciprocate. It was only fair. So he slid his hand clumsily under her tight pink shirt. Or was it a blue shirt? Or maybe green? Harry was fairly certain that his vision shouldn't be playing tricks on him. It wasn't very nice.

But the girl's hand on him was nice. Very nice. Harry purred like a content kitten. Yes, these muggles and their drugs were brilliant.

oOo

Harry had failed.

He was given one simple mission: keep the kids over at Hogwarts alive. That had seemed simple enough; it was a school after all. There was no way he could have expected a effing basilisk to off one of the sixth years in the first month. He knew that Shacklebolt and Moody wouldn't blame him. Neither would the other Myrmidons. Neither Draco nor Dumbledore. Merlin, Dennis Creevey didn't even blame him. But he would still blame himself. The school was his responsibility. HIS. The wizarding world wasn't going to see him as a saviour anymore; after all, he couldn't save one fucking Gryffindor from Slytherin's fucking basilisk.

Fuck.

Snape of course, made the whole incident seem like Harry's fault. Which caused Sirius to defend his Godson and the two snarled at each other and slung insults for a good seven minutes before Professor McGonagall put them in their place. Harry would have smirked at them if he weren't feeling like shit. McGonagall then identified the small blonde boy to be Colin Creevey, a sixth year Gryffindor.

And then Dumbledore turned his sad blue eyes on Harry and said if the basilisk wasn't caught in the next forty-eight hours the governors would probably shut down the school. And then the world would see that Harry couldn't do his fucking job. Dumbledore didn't say that, but it was implied and it hung over Harry's head.

Neville always says to look on the bright side of everything. But was there a good side to this whole catastrophe? Oh. Yes. Draco wasn't mad at him for running out when things were getting hot and heavy. If fact, he claimed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and wouldn't let Harry out of his sight. Not even when Snape threatened him with a detention. Which, of course, Draco didn't get.

Harry was currently lying in Draco's huge (and comfier than a normal dorm bed) queen sized bed draped in green and silver with Draco nestled on his chest. He didn't really have PTSD but Draco wouldn't be a true Slytherin if he didn't try to turn the incident in his favour. And Harry wasn't complaining. He'd take clingy and cuddly Draco over snoring Crabbe and Goyle any day, even if they didn't have sex first.

But tomorrow he was going to hunt down the kid opening the Chamber of Secrets and fucking eat them alive. With ranch dressing. Not before he tortured out the way to open the chamber and then he was going to massacre that basilisk like Achilles did to Hector. Fuck. He might even drag it around over his shoulder for nine days to finish the effect. Then the school wouldn't be shut down and Harry would be the savoir. Again. Just the way things should be.

Draco squirmed slightly as Harry's grip tightened painfully during his dark thoughts. Harry soothed Draco back into a deep sleep with firm strokes across the small of his back. Draco gave a small noise of content.

Harry smirked down at the sleeping blonde. They still hadn't had sex since the one-day in the ministry bathroom. He decided that when this incident was taken care of he was going to shag Draco so hard that neither of them would be able to walk the next day, and then they would spend their day in bed in blissful pleasure.

oOo

"We're finding this heir today." Harry announced after breakfast. The Myrmidons were gathered in the front hall, which was currently empty.

"Where do we start?" Asked Neville. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Harry took his commanding stance and faced his Myrmidons. "I am patrolling the halls all day today, especially during passing periods, one Myrmidon will always be with me in case I need assistance. The other three with be watching kids from suspicious behaviour. Guilty people usually look like they have something to hide. We will be using Coms today; I want a report every half hour. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The other four saluted.

"Good. Neville, you're with me to start. Dismissed."

oOo

The morning was completely uneventful. The most action Harry saw was when he discreetly pinched Draco's ass as he walked by on his way to Ancient Runes. Draco winked saucily at him before hurrying after Daphne Greengrass. Neville then teased him for the next twenty minutes. But Harry's scar never even gave a slight twinge. Hermione also told him that she couldn't find any students with a known background of Gaunt. While Harry sighed in relief, he was also upset that there went their only lead.

Harry was left with the question of who else could possible speak Parseltongue. Voldemort and Himself were the only two known speakers. Maybe Voldemort was taking polyjuice and was pretending to be a student. It was possible. But it still left Harry without a clue to who he could be masquerading as.

Several students were missing at lunchtime but that was usual, tons of students (especially sixth and seventh years) used their hour to study in their common rooms. But as more time passed and nothing happened, the more frustrated Harry grew. And it didn't help that most students were avoiding him in the halls due to the fierce look he wore on his face. The corridor around him seemed darker and stormy.

Mandy, who was currently patrolling with Harry, rolled her eyes. "Please Harry, you're scaring away possible targets with your threatening aura. Calm down."

"I know, I know." Harry sighed and leaned up against a wall. It was another passing period and students streamed past the two Myrmidons. "But I can't help it, I feel so fucking helpless." He growled in frustration.

"You need to take your mind off this, after all, the first time you felt the Heir you weren't thinking about him. So I think you need a distraction." Mandy tapped his chest to emphasis her point.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She was right. Don't think about the Heir. Or Voldemort. Or a huge basilisk. Harry's mind wandered to Draco. Creamy, pale skin. Bony hipbones. Silver eyes molten in passion. Fingers digging into his back... Harry grinned ferally.

Mandy turned her back to Harry and observed the kids rushing past. The numbers were diminishing as class time approached. Her thoughts drifted to poor Dennis Creevey in the Infirmary. Madame Pomfrey had him on suicide watch. She couldn't blame him though, she dreaded the day Harry would fight Voldemort for the last time. It was so uncertain whether or not he would survive his final battle. Mandy didn't want to live with out him, or any of the other Myrmidons. They were her family.

So lost in her thoughts she missed Harry stiffen.

There it was again.

The pain.

But there weren't too many people in the corridor this time. The pain grew brighter and fiercer as if it was approaching him, but this time he was ready for it. But it wasn't a person, which was very odd, but an object. A small object. He could feel it. Pulsing. It felt like it was coming from... there.

"Ginny Weasley."

The red haired girl gulped nervously as Harry tugged her out of the main hall traffic and off to a side corridor. Mandy followed curiously. "Harry Potter." She nodded in return. She tried in vain to hide her nervousness.

Harry flashed one of his playboy grins. "Sorry to disturb you but you've been randomly selected to be the latest victim in our spontaneous search." Harry sighed. He sounded like it was a pain, like he didn't want to bother such a sweet girl.

She still gulped nervously and took a tiny step backwards. "I haven't heard of these ... searches yet."

Mandy winked at Harry over Ginny's shoulder. Sometimes Harry was sure that Mandy could read his mind. She stepped out in front of a random student, looking apologetic. "Laura Madley. I'm sorry to bother you but you've been randomly selected to be the latest victim in our spontaneous search."

The younger girl squeaked in acknowledgment. "What-what do you need me to do?"

"Just hand me your book bag." Mandy smiled sunnily. Laura handed over her bag without any protest.

Ginny watched the exchange as Mandy half-heartedly dug through the bag, not really looking at anything, and handed the bag back to the small Hufflepuff. "Thanks a mil' Laura. Have a good day." The small blonde girl smiled and continued on her way.

"As you can see it'll only take a moment." Harry smiled again at the pretty red head.

Ginny nodded and handed over book bag. Harry opened it, pretending it was against his wants, and briefly shuffled through the books, stray quills, a spare bit of parchment–

There.

Harry's fingers brushed against something that made his scar pulse as if stung by acid. He carefully lifted the small leather bound book out of the bag. He dimly noted Ginny's face drain of blood. "Just my diary." She shrugged and lied miserably. Harry could feel the lie oozing out of her.

Harry turned the book over and saw the initials engraved in gold on the bottom corner. T.M. Riddle. Harry rose an eyebrow. "T.M. Riddle?" Voldemort's birth name was not commonly known. If fact, it was considered top-secret information in the auror department, most ministry officials didn't even know it. The aurors feared that those who knew His real name would become victims of the Death Eaters. After all, would Voldemort want people to know his half-blood name?

"Second hand diary. We aren't very rich you know, Mum bought that for me over the summer." Ginny lied again. Harry frowned and wondered where she really got it, or who she got it from.

"I don't suppose you know who Tom Riddle is?" He asked lightly, not betraying that he knew every word she had said was a lie.

"No." Ginny lied again.

"I'm sorry Ginny, I need to perform a few scanning spells, just to check and see if the previous owner left anything important behind. Which I doubt, just precautions. You'll probably have it back before supper. If not I'll buy you a new one, I promise." Harry smiled down at her. Ginny nodded, still pale and shaky, and walked slowly off, casting quick glances over her shoulder.

Mandy waited until she was out of hearing distance before whistling lowly. "Tom Riddle's diary? I think we just found out how the Chamber of Secrets has been opened."

"I think your right." Harry mused.

So much for eating the kid who opened the chamber alive. But this was another hash mark against Voldemort. Harry would deliver retribution soon enough.

oOo

"You mean to tell me that there's a piece of Voldemort in this diary?" Neville asked in disbelief. The Five Myrmidons were gathered around a dusty desk in an empty classroom on the first floor. On the desk was Tom Riddle's innocent looking diary. Neville shuddered as he mentally pictured a hunk of greying flesh rotting between the pages.

"Something like that. I know it sounds weird, but I can feel it. There's a piece of him in there." Harry gestured to the deceivingly plain leather bound book.

"I wonder... could it be a horcrux?" Roger murmured quietly.

Not quietly enough that Harry didn't hear him. "No way. No way if Voldemort does have horocruxes he would put it in a diary and then send the diary to Hogwarts. That would be foolish. Voldemort may be mad, but he's not foolish."

"Not unless he had a few backups lying around. More horcruxes." Roger continued. "If he has several he can afford to toss one or two around."

"But there's no proof." Harry didn't want to believe in horcruxes. He didn't want to believe that killing Voldemort wouldn't be simple for him.

"This could BE proof." Roger argued.

Harry sighed. "I hate this. Stupid fucking Voldemort." He kicked the leg of the desk half-heartedly.

"Maybe... maybe you should talk to Professor Dumbledore. He is the only other one that has fought Voldemort and lived. Maybe he knows about horcurxes." Tracey suggested in a quiet voice. She didn't want Harry's wrath to turn on her.

Harry was quiet for a few moments, his face was a blank mask. The others inched away slowly in case he had a powerful surge of magic again. Those were never good. "You're right." Harry replied. "I'll talk to him tomorrow."

The others sighed in relief.

oOo

Harry Potter sat in a deserted corridor on the seventh floor. His left side was leaning against the pane of a rather large window. It was late at night, past midnight. By now all the prefect patrols had stopped. The gibbous waning moon shined down on the Hogwarts grounds and illuminated the deserted Quidditch pitch. But Harry wasn't admiring the ghostly scenery.

He'd been staring at Riddle's diary for the past twenty-three minutes. He was debating whether or not to open the diary and write in it. After all, no harm ever came from reading or writing in a book, right? Harry smirked. There were a few forbidden books that the Unspeakables owned that begged to differ. Not to mention Muggle cinema also knew that one. "No! You must not read from the book!" Flittered through his head. Immortally cursed mummies that could only be killed only by the Book of the Living he could handle. Voldemort with pieces of his soul spread to the winds making him immortal he wasn't so sure about.

Harry took a deep breath and plunged his pen onto the first page of the diary. Hello? He wrote.

There was a moment or two where Harry held his breath as he waited for a response. It didn't take long.

Who is this? Tom responded.

As IF he was going to tell a young Voldemort that is was Harry Potter, his prophesised archenemy. Harry was a fully trained, elite classed auror. He had some brains, even if some people didn't believe it.

Kirke Shacklebolt. Harry replied.

Hello Kirke. My name is Tom Riddle.

Do you know anything about the chamber of secrets, Tom?

A long paused followed and Harry was afraid he's scared him off with his forwardness. Yes.

Could you tell me?

...no...

Not even where it is? I'm sure you'd know, being the only heir of Marvolo Gaunt.

There was another long pause and Harry knew he was really pushing his luck. But he didn't have time to weed it out slowly. He needed to know NOW.

How do you know that? Was Riddle's response.

I'm a big fan of yours.

Shacklebolt? Son of the auror?

Nephew. Well, it seemed that the diary had current information. Not surprising.

Why don't I show you?

Harry didn't have time to respond as a bright light flashed out of the diary and slammed into him like a freight train. Harry fell backwards and hit the stone floor with a crack that made colorful spots dance across his vision. An intense pain, and not from his fall, wracked his body as the Tom Riddle tried to posses him. Harry's body arched off the floor in pain and he let out an animal sounding screech. Tom wanted in. In in in. He ruptured Harry's mind ruthlessly, but Harry was no novice to mental pain. He mentally clawed back into Tom's spirit. His very essence. No time for defence, it was offence time.

Tom ripped through his memories; Mandy, Neville, Rodger, and Tracey as children flashed before him. Scrimgeour's lion hair, Moody's magical eye, Shacklebolt's white grin against dark skin. Harry fought harder. There. Memories of an orphanage. Of stealing. Of the cave. Of a girl's bathroom on the second floor. A sink with a snake carved into the tap. Perfect. Harry shoved at Tom's presence with all his power; he fell out of Harry's mind and back into the diary.

The whole ordeal only took twenty-seven seconds, but Harry felt like he ran a marathon after getting the shit kicked out of him in a deserted alley in the slums of London. Fuck. He lay panting of the floor trying to gain his breath back. That was intense. It was worse than trying to fight Voldemort out of his dreams. That confirmed it to Harry. The diary was a horcrux, but more importantly, now he knew how to get into the Chamber of Secrets. And that was all that mattered for now.

oOo

To Be Continued

WoOtT! I have a beta now, El-Gilliath! Everyone give a round of applause!

And as usual, thanks to everyone who reads this! especially veela princess, Tequila4U522 (write out your email like prettyracing at yahoo dot com, i'll see it that way!), Fucted Up Kid (thanks for your review! and i guess you love Draco, eh?), Dulce Psycho, jou-kai-mokie, demongirlizumi-chan, GoddessMoonLady, Priestess of Silvanus, SadieW (sorry, i'm not a big sports of any kind fan, but there's a kid from england on the floor below me and he's always wearing man united shirts), Melia Nerine, scarblade (A beta is alot like an editor, but also gives me opinions and such), Wolflady, LuthorCorp, Inkstained Scarlet (Draco is pretty much Patroclus, but we don't want him to die!), placebofan, fifespice, sparkley-tangerine, swampthang, fudgebaby, Dark Angel of Fire Ice, The Great and Powerful Oz (Yes, Harry knows he can speak parseltongue), shady gurl, zoomaphonethepirate, DracoDormiens7, Amy Jo (I've read so many fanfics that i often have problems when reading the books knowing what happened according to JKR), DemonRogue, Celeste Jacobs, RavenMistress (I don't think Lucius ever really showed death to Draco, he seems like his bark is worse than he bite), and El-Gilliath (my wonderful new beta! Thanks!)

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