Author's Note: Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all rights to it belong strictly to J.K Rowling.

I am simply having fun with my imagination.

...It seemed that his Death Eaters were getting out of control...loosening up. He could not allow it. WOULD not allow it. They must be put in their place. They need clarification that he, soon to be named Lord Voldemort, is in charge. Smiling slightly at the brilliant name he'd crafted over the summer, Tom rolled over in his bed and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be the start of the rest of his life...

CHAPTER 13: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS

The following morning, Tom waited in the Common Room for the first-years to gather around so that he could escort them to the Great Hall for breakfast. Avery, Lestrange, Rowle, Rosier, Selwynn, and Davis wanted to wait with him but he'd instructed them to get out of his sight as quickly as possible. So, at a quarter to 9, Tom finally entered the Great Hall, with a crowd of first-year Slytherins following closely behind him.

"Excuse me!" squeaked a girl from the crowd. Tom turned to look at her.

"Where is the girls' bathroom?"

"I don't know, figure it out," Tom told her.

A few skimpy Gryffindors in his year laughed. Ignoring them, Tom made his way over to the Slytherin table and sat with an open copy of Intermediate Transfiguration. After breakfast, Tom headed off to Care of Magical Creatures without his 'friends', and then again to Charms. All day, the Death Eaters kept trying to accompany him but everytime they got close, Tom managed to slip away again. He preferred to be by himself today...to watch from a distance...to observe what the Death Eaters did when he was not around. To his relief, they did not do much. They mostly scowled and whispered amongst themselves if any of them knew when the next meeting was.

Later that week, in a hushed conversation during Professor Slughorn's lecture on strengthening solutions, Tom provided new information.

"Our next meeting will be this Saturday night."

"Trophy room?" said Rosier.

"Yes," said Tom. "Be there at 1."

"Tom!" called Professor Slughorn.

"Yes, sir?" said Tom.

"Can you please help us out and name at least two ingredients needed to brew a strengthening solution?"

"Yes, sir," said Tom, glancing once at Rosier to be quiet. "They are salamander blood and powdered Griffin claw."

"Excellent!" cried Professor Slughorn. "Very good, indeed!"

Tom gave him a small smile.

After the lesson, Tom descended from the potions room and made his way over to Transfiguration when a fifth-year Gryffindor he didn't know bumped him.

"Watch where you're going, Riddle!" he shouted.

Tom stopped in the corridor to watch as the boy continued to walk down the hall. He'd seen him around. Keith something... No matter, Tom thought to himself. He'd take care of it later.

"Tom?" said Professor Dumbledore, who was standing outside his door. "Are you coming in?"

"Yes, professor," said Tom, turning away from where the boy had disappeared. "My apologies, professor."

"Not at all," said Dumbledore, holding the door open for him.

Tom sat at a table at the front and opened his book without a glance at any of the other students in the class. The Slytherins had transfiguration with the hufflepuffs that year. The Death Eaters were sitting at the back of the class but Tom ignored them.

"Won't you sit with your friends, Tom?" said Dumbledore, frowning at Tom's choice for a seat.

"I'm good here, professor," said Tom blankly.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, moving to the front and now addressing the class. "Today, we will be talking about the Doubling Charm, which is more commonly known as the Gemino Curse. Can anyone in here tell me the history of the Gemino Curse?"

No one offered an explanation. Somewhere in the back, an ink bottle crashed to the floor and splattered everywhere. Sighing, Dumbledore flicked his wand at it and it repaired and restored itself on the desk.

"Thanks," said a Hufflepuff girl, shyly.

"Not at all," said Dumbledore, smiling. He scanned the room. "No one knows?"

Tom flipped the page of his book casually as he was not paying attention to Dumbledore at all. Noticing this, Dumbledore approached his desk.

"What about you, Tom?"

Tom looked up, surprised.

"Sir?"

"Can you tell us the history of the Gemino Curse? It is afterall in that book that you're always carrying."

"Of course, sir," said Tom, straightening up. "The Doubling Charm was invented by twin witches Helixa and Syna Hyslop. They used it to create duplicates of every item inside their home. After they died, their relatives finally discovered this charm because the twins had each left behind a set of detailed instructions on how to use it."

"Very good," nodded Dumbledore, pausing. "Five points to Slytherin."

Tom stared at him. Dumbledore went over to the board and began to write as the class copied down the notes. Tom continued to stare at him. This was the first time in all his years at Hogwarts that Tom had been awarded house points by Dumbledore. What was he up to? Nervous slightly, Tom quickly copied down what Dumbledore had written and spent the rest of the class staring at him...watching his every movement.

"We just don't think it's a very good idea, sir," said Rowle, in a small, worried voice.

"Yeah, it's not that we don't want to do it," offered Selwynn. "It's...it's just that...we think we will get caught."

"A-and...l-l-last t-time we almost...d-did get caught-t," added Avery, without meeting Tom's eye.

Tom stared at them blankly.

It was Saturday night and the group was sitting on the floor in the Trophy Room, having their second Death Eater meeting. Tom had begun explaining their next move when the boys had interrupted him and began to protest.

"I don't care," he said to them now. "I did not recruit a group of first-year girls."

"But-"

"Lestrange," Tom's voice went cold. "You will do what I command you to."

Lestrange went pale.

"I promised you all that I would rid the school of every piece of filth, did I not?" Tom said to the group. The boys looked away from him and, Tom noticed, they carefully avoided each other's gaze too. "Need I remind you that I am the Heir of Slytherin, your forefather?"

"Yes, sir," said Davis, the new one. "We understand, and...t-that's exactly what we want...t-to get r-rid of them m-m-mudbloods."

"Good," Tom told him. "And that also reminds me, I have your task ready for you."

He passed Davis a clean white envelope. Davis bowed before taking it. He carefully ripped it open and examined the sheet that Tom had placed inside. Tom watched his face tighten as he read the instructions. Davis looked up at Tom with wide eyes.

"Any questions?" Tom asked him, simply.

"No," said Davis, almost robotically. "I understand."

"Very good," said Tom. "Dismissed."

The boys got their feet and one-by-one, they exited the room, carefully checking around corners for any teachers. Tom waited until they were gone, and then pulled out his wand and ran his fingers along it. He waited for a long time, sitting alone in the Trophy Room and thinking about Davis' task and wondering whether he would actually go through with it. Tom would be most impressed if he did and if he managed it successfully.

He cracked open the book that he'd bought from Knockturn Alley-The Immortals Among Us- and carelessly flipped through its pages. He glanced curiously at a page about souls and frowned at a term he did not seem to recognize: Horcrux. He searched the book for its meaning but could not find it anywhere. Horcrux. It sounded like a very fascinating sort of Dark Art. Pity he had no way of finding out its meaning.

At about 3 in the morning, Tom rose to his feet, exited the Trophy Room, and slowly made his way down the corridors, lighting them up with the tip of his wand. He was careful not to shine the light at any of the sleeping portraits. He reached the girls' bathroom in no time, and checking around the corners twice, he let himself in. He approached the sink with the carved snake on it, and glanced around the room. There was no handle anywhere or anything that suggested entry. But somehow, Tom already knew what he had to do. Pocketing his wand, he straightened up and said, very quietly, "Allow your heir in," in Parseltongue.

The sink separated itself from the other sinks which had now begun to rise in the air and spread apart. Tom waited. Once the process was complete, he examined the results. Where there had been 8 sinks closed together, there was now a large black hole (like a tunnel). Without hesitation, Tom pulled out his wand and climbed into the hole.

"Lumos," he said, lighting up the dark tunnel.

It was at least a full hour before Tom reached the end of the tunnel and came across a sort of vault door with several snakes carved on its front. In Parseltongue again, he instructed it to open and it did. He let himself in, climbed down from the ladder, and looked around.

It was the most beautiful corridor he had ever seen. Illuminated by green light on all sides, large snake statues sat with their slippery tongues stretched out. There was water everywhere of course, as he was well below the school grounds and the pipes all seemed to lead there. The air was stiff and very ancient, like no one had been there in thousands of years. At the very end of the hall however, was the grand statue of Salazar Slytherin, watching him.

"Hello, father," Tom said to it, in Parseltongue. He approached the statue, now pocketing his wand again. "It is I, your heir, at your service."

The statue stared at him.

"Please, father," hissed Tom. "I've come to finish your work. Show me this monster that you've buried here."

The mouth of the statue began to expand, creating a very large hole. Soon, a slithering thing crawled out of it, hissing very loudly. Its bulging yellow eyes looked murderous, but Tom beamed at it. He knew that it would not attack him. This monster, this gorgeous basilisk, was at his service. He had done it. At long last, Tom had opened the Chamber of Secrets.

He spent the next couple of hours exploring the chamber thoroughly and getting to know it for its every detail. Finally, he glanced at his watch and noticed that breakfast would start in about a half hour. Tom quickly gave the basilisk instructions on when best to attack. It bowed to him and Tom made his way out of the chamber and sealed it again.

"If I may ask, where were you this morning, sir?" asked Lestrange as he joined Tom at the Slytherin Table in the Great Hall 40 minutes later.

"Busy," said Tom, simply, as he began pouring himself pumpkin juice. "Have you spoken with Davis?"

"Yes, sir," said Lestrange, after a moment's silence. "He said he will do it."

"Good," nodded Tom. "I look forward to it."

Lestrange was quiet for the remainder of breakfast. Even after Avery and the others joined them, he just kept to himself, as did Tom.

Glancing up at the staff table, Tom spotted Dumbledore watching him again, and smiled brightly at him whilst imagining his head on a stick.

Later that week, whilst the Slytherins were copying down Professor Flitwick's notes on silencing charms, there was a loud commotion out in the hall. The students jumped from their desks and followed little Flitwick out of the classroom to see what had happened. A second-year Gryffindor girl was sprawled on the floor, bleeding heavily from her stomach. She was apparently unconscious, though her body was trembling on the floor and there were tears in her eyes. Professor Flitwick squeaked for some students to go and get Headmaster Dippet and the nurse. Tom stared at the girl, wondering what sort of spell Davis had used. He scanned his memory, his head flipping pages through books he'd read thousands of times. Students all around shrieked and some began to cry at the sight of the poor girl. Professor Flitwick even knelt down beside her and repeated that help was coming.

At long last, Tom's brain had landed on a counter-curse that he'd read in one of his books. Without thinking, he took out his wand, pointed it at the girl, and muttered under his breath. The gash wounds began to magically heal themselves and the blood that had oozed out of the girl was making its way back into her veins. Professor Flitwick gasped and watched with complete shock as Tom proceeded with the spell. By the time that Headmaster Dippet and the school nurse had arrived at the scene, all the blood was gone and the girl had stopped trembling.

"She's still breathing!" cried the nurse as she bent down to examine her.

"TOM!" cried Professor Dippet. "You...how...you...when did you, when did you, when did you!"

"It's alright sir, I'm just glad I could help," said Tom, smiling softly.

Professor Dippet put an arm around his shoulder and exclaimed. All the other professors had rushed to the scene as well and were one-by-one congratulating Tom on his achievement. The girl was picked up and carried off to the hospital wing. The surrounding students began to applaud Tom who merely nodded and proceeded to his next class...Potions. When he got there, he took the seat next to Davis and opened up his books.

"That was absolutely splendid!" Professor Slughorn beamed at him. He practically had tears in his eyes. "Such beautiful, advanced magic from only a fifth-year! My goodness, boy, you will go very far indeed."

Tom did not say anything. Everyone else in class was still talking about it an hour later.

"My goodness," Professor Slughorn kept on repeating throughout the lesson, and giving Tom the thumbs-up.

Tom leaned in to Davis.

"Well done," he told him.

"Thank you, sir," said Davis.

He had officially passed the test and was now a Death Eater.

During lunchtime that day, Tom was reading about the giant wars of the nineteenth century over a bowl of mushroom soup when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He casually turned around, then jumped from his seat and straightened up.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said, bowing his head.

"Good day, Tom," said Dumbledore. "I was wondering...could I have a word with you?"

"Of course, professor," answered Tom.

"After you've finished your breakfast, of course," Dumbledore added sweetly.

"That's quite alright, I can talk now," said Tom.

"Very well then. Why don't we go into my office; it'll be more private there," said Dumbledore.

Nodding once, Tom gathered his books into his bag and followed Dumbledore out of the Great Hall. Some of the Gryffindors turned their heads to stare as the two exited the hall, but Tom ignored them. They walked along the corridors in silence and reached Dumbledore's office in no time.

"Come in, Tom, come in," said Dumbledore, closing the door behind him. "Sit down."

Tom took a seat at the desk and Dumbledore sat across from him.

"Is everything alright, professor?" said Tom, feigning worry.

"Oh yes, everything is fine," said Dumbledore. "I just wanted to have a little chat with you about today's events."

"Sir?"

"The incident with poor Sasha Timmons of Gryffindor," Dumbledore clarified.

"Ah," said Tom, nodding. "Yes, it was horrible."

"Indeed it was," said Dumbledore. "I was just really fascinated with how you were able to cure her so quickly."

"Honestly, most of it was just luck," lied Tom. "I'd come across the counter-curse for a jinx that sounded a lot like what Timmons had suffered in one of my books."

"That's what I thought," nodded Dumbledore. He paused and frowned for a second, then met Tom's eye. "Do you happen to know who could have attacked poor Sasha?"

"I do not, sir," said Tom. "But I imagine they will be punished severely if they are caught?"

"When, not if," said Dumbledore.

"Of course, sir," said Tom.

"And yes," continued Dumbledore. "They will absolutely be expelled and lose their wand as well."

"I think that's a fair punishment," agreed Tom.

"So no idea at all?" said Dumbledore, ignoring Tom's replies. He was eyeing him even more carefully now.

"No," said Tom, innocently. "As a prefect, it is my duty to report any information that I have on anybody who commits such crimes, and I'm sorry to say that I have no information to offer on this particular incident."

"And what about other incidences?"

Tom frowned.

"Sir?"

But Dumbledore sat quietly for a long time. There was a miniature staring contest going on between him and Tom, and Tom was careful not to blink. Then, Dumbledore leaned forwards and lowered his voice to barely more than a whisper.

"The other professors wouldn't want me telling you this, Tom," he began, "But I feel that it is necessary. There has been another incident. A muggle-born student from Gryffindor was attacked just last night. They are now lying in the hospital wing, petrified. We do not know how this happened but we do have our suspicions."

"I haven't heard anything about this second attack, professor," Tom said.

"Yes, that's because we've tried to keep it quiet for now," said Dumbledore. "No need to worry the students, you know?"

"Yes," said Tom, nodding. He tried to put together a look of concern but it was just too bloody hilarious.

"So you haven't seen anything suspicious going on? We have reason to believe that the perpetrator was a Slytherin."

Tom pretended to be lost in thought, and then met Dumbledore's eye.

"I honestly have not, professor, but I wouldn't mind keeping an eye out on my fellow housemates and report to you if I find anything out of the ordinary."

"Yes, thank you, Tom," said Dumbledore, who was now leaning back in his chair. He looked to be rather disappointed with Tom's answer. "I do hope we can find the culprit soon. I would hate for the students of Hogwarts to feel unsafe. It has become a home for many, much like for you, Tom."

"Yes," said Tom.

Dumbledore paused.

"Do you like it here, Tom?"

"I love it here, professor," said Tom, wondering why Dumbledore was interrogating him.

"I am happy to hear that, Tom, I really am."

Tom gave him a small smile. Dumbledore was such a sucker for love and kindness.

"Very well then, you may go."

"Good day, professor," said Tom, and he gathered his book bag and made to leave the room. Just before he'd reached the door handle however, he stopped and turned to look at the professor again.

"I was just wondering, sir," he said, cautiously levelling his voice to hide the excitement, "Which student was petrified?"

"Keith Williams," Dumbledore answered, sadly.

"Oh that's awful, I know him," said Tom.

"Yes, he is in your year. Such a terrible thing," said Dumbledore.

Once he was out in the corridor, Tom could feel sweat on his forehead and became very aware of how fast his heart was beating. Why did this happen every single time he was interrogated by Dumbledore? He was only an old man, after all. He was hardly a danger to Tom. Besides, Tom had not been directly responsible for the attack on Sasha Timmons. It had been Davis' way of proving his loyalty to the group. If anybody was going to be caught for this attack, it was going to be Davis. But what had happened to Keith Williams was music to Tom's ears. The basilisk was on the move. And he could not see how Dumbledore or anybody else would be able to trace this back to him. Still, the very idea of being interrogated by Dumbledore sent waves of dizziness to Tom's head and he stopped and leaned against a pillar, gasping for breath.

He's onto you, a voice told him. Best be careful.

Don't worry, Tom answered it, now straightening up and wiping sweat from his forehead, I will be.