The Twins Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

by whereweleftoff

Following up their dangerous first year at Hogwarts, James Dean and Harry Andrew Potter, alongside their adopted brothers Travis and Brian, prepare for a whole new year at school. However, someone, or something, conspiring to make this year just as wild and wacky as the last, and in order to survive, they'll need to keep their wits ABOOT them, eh... Partial redux of the OG.

17. Chapter 17: The Chamber's Secrets

If you're reading this, much love.

ENJOI

…

"All this time, and it was Moaning Myrtle?!" Ron seethed quietly as Harry and he marched to class behind McGonagall the next morning. "We've been digging for worms this entire time, and the fattest, juiciest one was three stalls down in one of our hideouts!"

"Shh," Harry shushed him, looking around nervously.

The night previous, after James and the others had dropped him and Ron off at their window, Harry had laid in bed unable to sleep off his adrenaline rush. So, as he stewed, he pieced together their evidence over and over in his mind until something clicked. Fifty years Tom Riddle, the hero of the school, had put an end to the attacks from the infamous Chamber of Secrets soon after a girl was killed in a bathroom by the creature. James, when they first started brewing the polyjuice potion, explained Moaning Myrtle's death. She was killed, murdered, in that bathroom, fifty years ago.

Feelings of pride at having figured something out faster than his legendarily clever twin soon faded to euphoria at having simply solved the mystery to begin with! He had bolted upright in bed, woke up a feebly sleeping, easily spooked Ron and told him the news, promising to talk more about it in the morning.

Of course, now that they knew this highly relevant information, the next goal was to disseminate it and expand on it with Myrtle. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done considering they shared no classes that day with the Ravenclaws, and every move they made was watched constantly by teachers, prefects, and the newest additions to the school; Magical Law Enforcement officers. The coppers were stationed at nearly every major junction of the school and at the landing of every staircase, making sneaking off without the cloak virtually impossible.

Perhaps, Harry thought, he and Ron were on their own on this one. He didn't see any way to get the message to James without blowing the whistle on it all. Harry wracked his brain for solutions as they were led into Transfiguration class, but only drew blanks as he and Ron took seats in the back of the class. He wasn't even paying attention anymore, just staring blankly at his textbook trying to come up with some way to get his brother's aid when he was snapped from his reverie by Seamus yelling.

"Exams!?" the Irish boy demanded. "You want us to worry about exams when there's a monster on the loose!?"

"Yes, Mr. Finnegan, I do," McGonagall sniffed, frowning and holding her chin up so high her eyes and nose were parallel. "This is a school, after all. Unless school itself is shut down, we will continue our regularly scheduled education. That's the point of keeping open to begin, after all."

"You can't expect-" Dean Thomas tried to protest, but McGonagall cut him off with a stern knife hand.

"I expect you all to study hard and do your best on the final exams. Anything less would be an insult to what we're trying to accomplish!"

Study hard? An insult?! The insult here was that four other second year students were petrified and locked away in the medical wing, while a psychopath was roaming the halls trying to kill everyone else! Harry fumed internally at McGonagall's speech. The mutinous chattering that was filling the classroom told him that he wasn't the only one thinking it.

"Enough!" McGonagall roared, slapping her desk. Her scowl darkened almost into blind fury, hushing the dissent faster than it appeared. "The Headmaster told me to keep this school running as normally as possible in his absence! And I intend to do just that! May I remind you that exams are a perfectly good example of just that?!"

"Can you imagine having to take exams in the middle of all this?" Ron whispered to him a few minutes later, after she started her lecture. "Its going to be bedlam in this place soon. I'd expect a riot to break out before exams get here."

Ron's prediction wasn't too far off the mark. A sort of riot did break out, involving some older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs trying to break down the barrier into the Slytherin Common Room to find the heir. Every MLEO stationed in the school had to set up a barricade, and all Slytherins had to be escorted in and out of their own living space to be guaranteed their safety.

Of course, this didn't stop random acts of violence outside of that. Many Slytherins could be seen sporting black eyes or being escorted to the Medical Wing hosting broken limbs, burns, cuts, or worse. With the rise in bullying in violence, the number of MLEOs increased with it, and the situation boiled over into a full blown assault on the Slytherin Common Room started and led by an older Hufflepuff boy. The chaos saw many a student locked in a massive brawling duel between themselves and the Magical Law Enforcement Officers, which saw nearly twenty students dragged out of the castle in chains with expulsion paperwork pending.

Three days before exams were set to start, the atmosphere in the castle was so tense that people would jump at the slightest scuffle of a shoe. At breakfast, McGonagall came in the Grand Hall with a firm, forced smile on her face as she ascended to Dumbledore's podium. She cleared her throat and tapped her wand three times to get the silent students' attention then cleared her throat again, looking apprehensive.

"I have good news," she declared.

All eyes were on her in an instant, and more than a few students nearly cheered as they jumped to their own conclusions.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" a Hufflepuff girl gushed.

"Quidditch is back on!" Roger Davies and Wood roared in unison.

"The war is over and we can go home!" James Dean sarcastically yelled, making more than a few older students chuckle nervously at his over the top, facetious posturing.

McGonagall sneered at all of them and shook her head. "Professor Sprout tells me that the mandrakes are old enough o be harvested. Her, Professor Snape, and Madame Pomfrey will be working on an antidote for our missing students immediately."

She was met with hard stares and a distinct lack of the reaction she was looking for. Throwing her hands up in dismay, she explained: "When they are returned to normal, they can very well tell us who attacked them! We could have this entire issue wrapped up in the week!"

The rest of the student body did not share the good Professor's assessment of the situation. Everyone else didn't know what Ron, Harry, James, and co. knew, and to the rest of the students, her statement wasn't a guarantee. The question was still on everyone's mind: What good is them returning to normal if more are just going to get hurt?

"It won't matter that we never got a chance to ask Myrtle," Ron insisted, a smile growing on his face as they talked about it later that day over lunch. "Travis and Hermione can tell everyone what they know and it'll be over!"

"Yeah, except for the fact he's still poisoned…" Harry pointed out.

"But we know it's a basilisk!"

"Yeah, dummy," Harry ground a fist into the top of Ron's head in aggravation. "We know. How, pray tell, do you expect us to tell without giving up the ghost and not getting expelled!?"

"But Travis saw it," Ron wined, rubbing his head forlornly. "He could tell them, then…"

"By the time he relays that information, he could be…" Harry trailed off morosely, looking down. "It could be too late if Pomfrey doesn't have the right antidote ready…"

"Oh," Ron's mood darkened. "Yeah…"

At that point, Ginny walked up to them, looking pale and scared. She had her hood up, hiding her hair from view, and she looked puffy-eyed like she'd been crying. She snagged a seat next to Ron, and opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then tried again, but faltered, failing to find the words to say.

"What's up, Gin?" Ron asked as he piled roasted vegetables on his plate.

Ginny loosed an "eep!" and jumped a little bit, looking even more scared than she had before, and looked to Harry for help. Harry, being clueless and unsure how to encourage her, gave her a small, confused smile. She tried to bear down and just say what was on her mind but faltered yet again as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Ginny, just say it," Ron insisted, rolling his eyes.

"I-I-I have to-to-t-t-tell you something," she finally stammered out.

"What?" Ron and Harry chorused.

She snapped her mouth open and closed like a fish out of water, and Harry seized the initiative, leaning in and whispering, "Is it about the Chamber of Secrets? Do you know something?"

Ginny looked at Harry wide-eyed, her head moving subtly and slightly up and down. She worked up the gumption to speak, but before she could get a word out, Percy arrived with a heaving, heavy sigh that scared little Ginny half to death and making her bolt from her spot.

"If you're finished eating, Ginny, I'll take that-"

Before he could finish, Ginny was gone, sprinting down the Hall towards the exit.

"Ya git!" Ron cursed, slapping Percy on the arm as he sat. "She was trying to tell us something!"

"It wasn't me who scared her, Ronald," Percy defended with a sneer on his face. "You and the Twins are always the ones bullying her!"

"Bullying her? That's fresh, coming from Mommy Percy who does nothing but baby her! We were making headway, and you just up and blew that chance! She was about to tell us something very important!"

Percy paled as he came to some sort of conclusion. "Oh- that- it wasn't important at all- she just- it was- um, er- she wasn't going to tell you the location of the Chamber of Secrets or anything, she just-well-"

"Spit. It. Out. Percy."

"I guess it couldn't be kept a secret for very long anyway… Me and Penelope Clearwater-"

"Are seeing each other," Harry cut him off, rolling his eyes.

"What? You knew?"

"Uh, we've known since last year, mate," Ron growled. "It's the worst kept secret in Hogwarts you bloody dolt!"

Percy's face paled to the point he looked close to fainting. "How did you know?"

"If it wasn't Fred and George catching you two, it was James, Travis, and Brian," Harry scoffed. "Now that you're ready to be vocal about it, he actually has some suggestions on meeting spots for you that are 'more original than a goddamned broom closet.'"

"Watch your language!" Percy huffed, looking insulted. "And what's so bad about broom closets?"

"They're broom closets," Harry and Ron deadpanned.

"Ugh, I'm not having this conversation with you two. Harry, please just pass me the bread rolls…"

After lunch, Harry just couldn't let the mystery go. He was determined to find a way to talk to Myrtle the first chance he got, which, to his spontaneous delight, came up almost as soon as he decided it. Lockhart was escorting them to their next class, History of Magic. Lockhart had maintained the notion the danger had passed, and as such, was far laxer in his security measures than the other professors. He often complained and pontificated on how unnecessary the newest levels of heightened security was, and today was no different.

"I swear, the first words out of those poor students' mouths will be 'It was Rubeus Hagrid," he droned to no on in particular as he led them across the castle. I am astounded- frankly astounded- that Professor McGonagall thinks all these measures are needed. The students have been scared enough! Now they have to deal with law enforcement officers breathing down their necks? It's ludicrous!"

"I wholeheartedly agree with you, sir," Harry nodded enthusiastically.

Everyone- literally everyone- stopped and stared at Harry's surprising declaration, including Lockhart, who seemed pleasantly surprised and showed Harry a Blockbuster smile. "Why, thank you, Harry! I knew you were an astute one, the moment I met you!"

"Are you loony?" Ron whispered in Harry's ear, earning him an elbow in the side. The jab seemed to bring Ron around to Harry's way of thinking, however, and he was quick to join in on the fib. "That's right, Professor… er- you have done so much already, they really shouldn't expect you to go these-er, extremes?"

"Right you are, Winston!" Lockhart beamed, pointing a jovial finger at them. "I see you two at the very least understand us teachers' plights! We have so much to do as it is!"

"Why don't you just let us go on our own from here, then?" Harry suggested brightly. "We only have another hallway to go."

"Yes, I… I think I shall! I trust you boys can get your classmates there safely. I will return to my chambers and- er, prepare for my class!"

With that, he was gone, ambling down the hallway, cocksure and swaggering. He whistled a jaunty tune as he strolled, relishing his newfound freedom.

"Okay, that was easier than I expected," Harry mumbled.

"Man's a right git, innie?" Ron chortled.

"'Prepare for his next class,'" Parvati muttered with an eye roll. "Prepare for his 'photo shoot,' more like."

"Gross!" Faye Dunbar sneered.

The rest of the class broke into snide and crude remarks about Lockhart's recent media disaster and the fallout thereof, and Ron and Harry both slowed their pace to fall to the pack of the pack, just waiting for a chance to get away. The clock was ticking, and before long, they were there, but their change of pace didn't go unnoticed…

"You two are about to sneak off, aren't you?" Dean asked them, as he was the last one in the line.

"Oh-uh, er," Ron started.

"Hahaha," Dean chuckled and clapped them on the shoulders. "It's cool, mates, it's cool. I got you. Hey, everyone, what's that out the window?"

Dean pointed at a mysterious 'something' on the grounds, gathering every Gryffindor eye outside and giving Harry and Ron the perfect chance to bolt. Dean gave them both a stern look and a shooing motion, one they didn't need to be given twice. They slipped around the corner and ran for it, and before anyone else was none the wiser, they were long gone.

"Oh, musta been nothing," Dean shrugged, and started walking to class again.

"That's strange," Luca Caruso muttered. "I swear, Harry and Ron were just next to you."

"Hm?" Dean asked, feigning ignorance while looking at her like she'd grown a second head. "Are you feeling okay?"

…

"And where do you boys think you're going?" a voice called out as Ron and Harry neared Gryffindor Tower.

They both stopped in their tracks at the authoritative voice. Looking over their shoulders, they saw a one of the guarding law enforcement officers marching towards them with a stern look on his face. His dull grey uniform was crisp and flawless despite the long shifts he had to have been working, and his square face had an almost militaristic perfection to it.

"Uh, going to Gryffindor Tower?" Harry squeaked.

"You are to be escorted by a teacher at all times, boys," the officer droned.

"We were given permission, though," Ron replied in a pleading voice.

The officer's head sharply turned to Ron. "Who gave you this, 'Permission'?"

"Professor Lockhart, sir," Harry piped in quickly. "He said as long as the hard working officer's of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were here, we would be safe to go collect our books we forgot this morning without trouble."

"Did he?" the officer snarled, unconvinced of their story and failing to be swayed by the flattery. "You two are aware there is a potential monster on the loose in this castle?"

Harry's mind flashed to the image of Travis covered in blood over Hermione. His face paled but he did his best to hide it. "Keenly, sir. But we trust Professor Lockhart's judgement, sir."

The officer's face told them all they needed to know his opinion on their statement, namely it being completely bullshit. However, he seemed to relent, and nodded. "Very well, then, you boys wouldn't mind it, then, if I escorted you to your commons, then back to Professor Lockhart himself for me to confirm all of this."

Harry nodded without skipping a beat. "Of course, sir."

Ron gawped at him but didn't say anything as Harry urged the officer to lead them away. He marched them to the portrait of the Fat Lady, let them speak the password, and then crisply stepped aside at a parade rest stance, letting them proceed. "I'll be waiting for you two here," he promised with a mild, knowing grin.

Fat chance you'll see us again, mate, Harry replied internally, but only nodded to the man before climbing the ladder inside. As soon as the door shut behind them, Ron reeled around.

"Harry! What was that!?"

"That, my dear Weasley, was what my twin brother would call an outright lie," Harry responded with a growing grin.

"We lied to a copper," Ron wheezed as he followed Harry to the dorms. "I can hear Hermione now- 'Lying to a federal officer is a capital offense!'"

Harry laughed the first real laugh he had in weeks. "'You're going to end in jail- or worse-"

"Expelled!" they screamed in unison, laughing at their mockery of Hermione.

Laughing all the way to the dorms, Harry flipped open his trunk and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. He slung it to Ron, who caught it but looked at him in confusion. Knowing what he was confused about, Harry grinned and tapped his temple.

"I learned my lesson from James well," he explained as he pulled out his old practice broom from the trunk. "That officer won't be seeing us again any time soon."

Ron's look of confuddlement turned into a wicked grin as Harry marched to the windows. "You know, James is smart, but you don't get nearly enough credit for your brilliance."

Soon they were airborne, flying down to the second floor and sneaking back into the castle through a window. Ron stayed inside as a lookout while Harry stashed his broom in an inconspicuous spot on the window's ledge, hauling himself back inside with barely a grunt of effort. Ron flung the Cloak over themselves, and they sneak-ran all the way to Moaning Myrtle's haunt.

Their quest came to an abrupt halt, however, as the bell signaling class break ran. Harry checked his watch- it was still thirty minutes too early for class to finish. Confused, they shared a look, but were quickly reprieved of their bewilderment when McGonagall's voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

"All students are to return to their respective houses immediately. I repeat, all students- return to your dormitories forthwith. Prefects are to escort all students in their houses. All teachers are to assemble in the staff room immediately for an emergency meeting."

"What do you think that's about?" Ron whispered. "Another attack? With all of this security?"

"Dunno," Harry responded. "But I think we need to go see what the hubbub is about before we talk to Myrtle."

"Yeah, okay," Ron nodded.

Turning around, they sneaked through security points and sidestepped wolfpacks of students going back to their dorms until they reached the teacher's staff room. Inside, there wasn't a single teacher yet, and seeing a dusty, large wardrobe, Harry urged Ron to hide in it. They sealed themselves inside and in the back, crouching to fit, when the first of the teachers walked in. They couldn't see, but could hear perfectly fine as the teacher ambled in. They seemed to having trouble finding their seat- it was Flitwick.

"How'd Flitwick beat everyone here?" Ron whispered derisively before being silenced with a jab in the ribs by Harry.

Soon, more teachers ambled in, sharing momentary greetings with each other before falling quiet again, aside from quiet, unintelligible murmurs betwixt themselves. It didn't take long for all of them to arrive, confused about what was going on based on what Harry could make out of their conversations. The door to the staff room banged open and what could only be McGonagall charged in.

"It's finally happened," she declared breathlessly, as if she had all but ran there. "A student has been taken by the monster into the Chamber of Secrets!"

Gasps of shock erupted, and Harry could hear Flitwick squeal in fright.

"Are you sure?" Professor Sprout pleaded. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Who was it?" Snape demanded, his voice rising an octave in concern.

"The Heir of Slytherin left a message on the walls outside the Great Hall," McGonagall explained tersely. "In blood. It said, 'Her skeleton will remain in the Chamber, forever.'"

"Who. Was. It?" Snape repeated in a commanding tone.

"Ginevra Weasley," McGonagall replied.

Harry looked to Ron, who looked frozen in shock. Even in the darkness of the wardrobe, his skin looked pale, making his freckles stand out against a field of paper white fright. His eyes bore holes into the door of the wardrobe, while his jaw worked furiously back and forth.

"We'll get her back," Harry whispered, clasping Ron's shoulder.

"We surely cannot let this stand," Snape declared, his footsteps echoing around the room as he seemed to have started pacing around the lounge. "We need to take a stand and do something."

"And do what?" Flitwick scoffed through his tears. "We don't even know where it is!"

"One of us does," Snape shot back snidely, voice turning dark. "Don't you, Gilderoy?"

"Me!?" Lockhart cried, aghast.

"Ah, yes!" Sprout clapped her hands with a pseudo-gleeful tone of voice. "Weren't you telling us this morning you knew where it quote, 'Had to be,' this very morning at breakfast?"

"D-did I? I don't recall… Well, I never-"

"Don't you see, Gilderoy?" Snape asked with a whimsical tone, but even though Harry couldn't see him, he could just imagine the sneering smile on the man's face. "Your moment has come at last! A girl has been taken by the very monster you assured us all you could defeat! Surely you can embrace this moment as the plot for your next autobiography. Imagine the awards. The accolades! The fame."

"Ah, yes, but I- no, I couldn't just step on the fine honor of all the officers here in the gracious employ of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement-"

"They are just coppers, Gilderoy," the nasally voice of Professor Sinistra replied coolly. "They aren't Dark Arts-trained Aurors! We need a man of your talents, here!"

"I couldn't possibly-"

"You are the man," Snape declared, banging a fist on the staff room table. "The very man we need to save poor Ginny Weasley. You did say you were sorry you hadn't gotten to take a crack at the beast since Rubeus was arrested."

"R-right," Lockhart relented. "U-er, right. I-I-I will head to my office immediately to prepare for this… undertaking."

Harry really didn't like the way Lockhart said the word, 'Undertaking.' It sounded like the man had already relinquished Ginny to her fate. Ron, it seemed, didn't either, as his nails dug into and scraped the wood of the wardrobe in fury. As soon as the teachers had adjourned their meeting and filed out, Ron burst from the wardrobe in anger and started pacing around the lounge in a tizzy.

"She knew something!" Ron screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. "She was taken 'cause she knew something important about the Chamber! Dammit, Percival! Dammit all to bloody hell, Ginny! Why couldn't you have an ounce of courage for once in your bloody life!"

"She was rightfully scared, Ron," Harry defended her. "And Percy didn't know what was going on…"

"He's gonna choke," Ron grumbled. "Lockhart's going to flub it all up! He's going to get my sister killed, 'Arry!"

"I know, which is why we're going to stop it," Harry tried to soothe his best friend.

"We need the boys," Ron urged, dragging his hands through his hair in desperation. "We need James and Brian and Travis-"

"We don't have time to get them!" Harry hissed. "We can't rely on them for this! By the time we try to get into Ravenclaw Tower and try to find them without getting caught, Ginny's bound to be dead!"

"I know!" Ron growled as he stopped pacing, his hands covering face. He stopped pacing and came to a dead stop. "I- I can't let her die, Harry. We need to do this- even though my mother will never thank me for it…"

"Right," Harry nodded and turned to throw the cloak over them, then stopped dead in his tracks. "-wait, what?"

Ron heaved a sigh and shook his head. "It's nothing, let's go."

"It's not nothing if you said it out loud," Harry pressed, pushing a hand to Ron's chest and stopping him. "Spit it out, mate."

"Ginny is Mum's favorite," Ron grumbled, crossing his arms and pulling out his Spello-taped wand. "She gets new everything- new books, new clothes, new… new… new WANDS!"

Ron screamed the last word and threw his worthless magic stick in frustration. "Meanwhile, I get stuck with everything second hand, never get praised for even the smallest point of success, and constantly get compared to Percy, or forced to look out for my dear baby sister, who gets all the love, all the attention, all the praise. It isn't fair."

Harry was at a loss of words. He never faced any of that in his own family. In fact, the share of love in his family was so equal that James had made a joke about it being a near-communist state of love and affection, whatever that meant. Harry could, however, kinda see where Ron was coming from. Ginny did seem to have a lot of newer, more fashionable things in her possession. He also saw the adoration Mrs. Weasley had poured onto Ginny and Percy, but couldn't recall ever seeing her do anything but scold Ron or instruct him to care for Ginny.

On the surface, it might have seemed like Ron was being petty, judging by his words alone. But his eyes told a different tale. They were wide and panicked, on the verge of thinly held back tears. He did care for Ginny, in his own way, and Harry could tell there was more to his petty complaining then he was letting on. In the words of Harry's mother, 'The mouth says one thing, the eyes another.' His mother being a shrink, Harry could only trust his interpretation of her words…

"Let's just go get her before Mum kills me," Ron said softly as he blinked back tears, picking up his wand and ducking beneath the cloak.

"Right," Harry nodded, and patted Ron on the back softly. "We'll get her back, mate. I promise."

"Thanks, mate," Ron nodded, stiffening his upper lip. "We need to see Lockhart, tell him what we know so he doesn't get her killed."

Without another word, they were back at it, charging down the halls and up staircases to Lockhart's office. Darkness had already been falling outside the castle as dusk neared, and many of the tired MLEOs were being swapped with their replacement guards for the night shift. Bleary eyed and bored out of their minds, they never bothered to even investigate the odd noise of footsteps running down the halls or the occasional scuff of shoe on stone.

Ron had been a part of the prank to break into Lockhart's office and already told Harry of the spell-lock on the classroom's door, so he whispered a quick, "Alohomora," and tapped the knob with his wand. Once they were in, Harry folded the cloak into his bag and they marched straight for the office in the back of the room. Ron spoke the password, "Magical Me," and the door swung open to reveal the Defense Against the Dar Arts' office, which held a desk, a Professor Lockhart, and a luggage crate that looked to have been hastily stuffed with the said Professor's various belongings.

"Going somewhere?" Harry asked impishly, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"Early vacation, Professor?" Ron snarled, the direct opposite visage of Harry's calm and cool demeanor, hands balled into fists and eyes brimming with rage.

"Oh-well, hello boys," Lockhart shot them a desperate, broad smile.

"We have vital information for you," Harry informed him, casually looping his wand around his palm.

"Oh?" Lockhart asked in surprise, sounding more like an owl than a person.

"We know where the Chamber is," Ron declared firmly, stepping into the room and placing his fists onto Lockhart's desk, his eyes never leaving Lockhart's.

"Ah, that would be most welcome in my endeavor," Lockhart grinned maniacally at them, still trying to obviously put on a show.

"Are you going somewhere, Professor?" Harry repeated in a sarcastic show of innocence. "Your trunk seemed to be half packed."

"AH- yes, well, I got an urgent call- unavoidable, you see- very important."

"More important than the life of my sister?" Ron seethed.

"That is very unfortunate, Mr. Wimbley. You see, no one regrets her fate more than myself-"

"Weasley! It's Ronald Goddamned WEASLEY!" Ron erupted, thrusting his wand into Lockhart's simpering face. "You are supposed to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! You are supposed to be a hero! You can't just leave now, with all the Dark Arts stuff going on around here!"

"There was nothing in this job description about throwing myself at monsters when I first took this position!" Lockhart snapped back, his face devolving into a look of desperation. "I wasn't expecting all of this!"

"So, you're just running away from it all?" Ron scoffed, shaking his head and jamming the tip of his wand into Lockhart's cheek. "After everything you've done in your books?"

"Books can be… heavily misleading?" Lockhart admitted with a hesitant shrug.

"What," Harry deadpanned. "You mean to tell me you made it up?"

"Heavens, no!" Lockhart shook his hands in front of him to dispel the notion, before sagging his shoulders and pinching the bridge of his nose. "M'dear boy, do you really think my books would have sold half as well if I wrote about the exploits of other people?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other, then back to Lockhart in disdain. "You mean you didn't accomplish any of those deeds yourself?"

"No, not a single bloody one," Lockhart huffed darkly as he started packing his things again, ignoring Harry's wand pointed in his direction. "Use your brains for once-"

"That's fresh, coming from a puffed up, pompous, braindead, over-glorified male sex icon," Ron cheekily insulted him as he tapped his wand across Lockhart's forehead.

"Sex sells, Mr. Weasley," Lockhart chided him. "Nobody wants to read about ugly, half-crazed Armenian warlocks, or knotty old hags dressed in hemp rags fighting monsters. They want heroes, icons of virtue and attraction who dash to the rescue with dazzling smiles, fashion sense, and without bags under their eyes. Not even the witch who fought the Bandon Banshee was free of ugliness- damn bitch had a harelip!"

"So, because they don't look like what you want, you just stole their exploits for yourself?" Harry demanded. "That's arguably worse than what they fought against!"

"Hardly," Lockhart scoffed. "And it wasn't quite as simple as that. It involved work tracking those reclusive haggards down, you know? Then it required even more work to get them to talk! Merlin's beard, the money I had to spend to get them to talk! I can still smell that warlock's whiskey breath! And then, to Memory Charm them? That always turned into a fiasco."

"Memory charm them!?" Harry hollered indignantly.

"You stole their stories and Obliviated their memories!?" Ron screamed.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Lockhart rolled his eyes as he banged the lids on his trunks with little regard to the threatening wands pointed in his direction. "I do pride myself on the usage of various memory charms, after all. Now, I believe that is everything. Just… one more thing to do."

He pulled his wand and pointed it at them. "I am sorry boys. But you have become a hindrance to my plans for tonight. I'll have to charm you two, as well… Can't have you blabbing my secrets to everyone! I'd never sell another book again in my life!"

"You are already washed up and disgraced, you pervy Peeking Tom," Ron chortled.

"A setup, a frame job, I assure you," Lockhart sneered as he started flicking his wrist to cast a spell. "If I ever find out whodunnit… that's besides the point. You two have a woefully ignorant view on how popularity works. I can be back in business with my work in no time flat after a few public relations fix-ups. Now-"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry thundered, forcing Lockhart's wand to fling from his hands. Like the trained Seeker he was, Harry caught it handedly and slipped it over to Ron, who pocketed it. "Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one, eh? By the way? You make a terrible villain; you talk too much."

Lockhart looked floored by Harry's sudden and efficient spell work. His eyes flicked back and forth between them fearfully as he held his hands up in surrender. "Now, boys-"

"No," Harry commanded, motioning his head over his shoulder towards the door. "Now, Gilderoy, you get walking."

"Walking?" Lockhart squeaked in fear.

"Walking," Ron affirmed harshly, moving aside to make room for Lockhart to lead the way.

"Walking where?"

"You already know where, you dolt," Harry mirrored Ron, moving out of the door so Lockhart could walk in front of them. "The Chamber of Secrets."

"Right," Lockhart nodded in fake enthusiasm. "The Chamber. I know precisely-"

"Shut up, we know where to find it so just follow our instructions," Ron demanded, shoving the man forward roughly.

"And don't even think about running," Harry warned him, jabbing his wand into his back threateningly. "Unless you want me to turn those lavender pretty robes of yours to turn in a tight fitting pink cocktail dress."

Lockhart shuddered and nodded in defeat. "Well, pink is certainly not my color… Very well. Where to?"

"The second-floor girl's bathroom," Harry replied.

"Right, because that makes perfect sense," Lockhart grumbled, but without further complaint, started walking.

"It will make perfect sense after we talk to Moaning Myrtle," Harry assured him. "Now get walking and don't even dare think of selling us out to the first patrol we come across."

With Lockhart held captive, they wouldn't be stopped by any MLEOs or other teachers and could get to their destination without any consequence. Not that there were many between them and their destination, but it was nice nonetheless to travel without the cloak and dagger. They arrived quickly and without delay, and Ron shoved Lockhart inside while Harry checked their backs to make sure no one was looking.

Once inside, Harry beelined for Myrtle's stall and knocked on the door insistently.

"Yeeeeees?" Myrtle gurgled from her S-bend.

"Myrtle, its me," Harry said. "I need to talk to you."

A great splash of water erupted from behind the door, getting Harry's shoes wet, and she floated through the door to stare directly into his face with weeping eyes. "And what do you want to talk about?"

"I need you tell me about the night you died, again."

"Oh!" Myrtle cheered happily, her high-pitched, nasally voice echoing throughout the bathroom merrily. "It was dreadful!"

"So you've said," Harry replied with a forced smile. "Can you tell us the entire story?"

"Well," Myrtle pouted in thought, putting a spectral finger to her blue lips. "It happened right here, in this last toilet! It was after dinner… and I came here for a good cry because Olive Hornby and her STUPID FACE thought it'd be all in great fun to make fun of poor wittle Myrtle's ugly glasses!"

"Well, they are rather unfashionable," Lockhart commented, earning him a slap in the back of the head from Ron.

"That's exactly what she said!" Myrtle cried as her eyes filled with tears.

"Please, Myrtle, ignore the foul and inconsiderate manchild," Harry soothed her. "Please continue your story."

"Well, I was here, in my last toilet crying, when the door opened real wide! And I heard footsteps, and then they started talking. It sounded like a weird, rasping, foreign language… but that wasn't what really got me. What got me, was that it was a boy! I hate boys. D'you know that? Hate 'em… they're a different sort of cruel than girls. Not as harsh, but more brutish and physical…"

"I'm sorry you had to endure that, Myrtle," Harry said honestly.

"Hm, I can tell you're not lying… I think. Anywho, I unlocked my door to tell him to sod off and go to his own toilet, and well… I died."

"Just like that?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Poof!" Myrtle cried spectacularly, mimicking a grand explosion with her hands. "Death."

"What kind of death?" Ron asked.

"Instant," Myrtle responded simply.

"Instant?" Harry demanded. "You don't remember anything else?"

"Nope- well, I remember thinking it'd be nice to haunt Olive Hornby and her gang the rest of their days… she lasted a few years, poor thing," Myrtle giggled and got uncomfortably close to Harry's face. "Her old bathtub's still stained red from when she- well, y'know."

Harry swallowed the disgusted lump in his throat and nodded in grim understanding. "Y-yeah, I get it. Where was the boy standing?"

Myrtle pointed across the bathroom to the far edge, where an ornate fountain faucet rested. "He was talking to that thing like it could understand him! Stupid boy must've been thick."

Harry's eyes widened as he took the fountain in. It was extremely well crafted, but due to the second-floor bathroom's grim past and haunted state, it had been slightly neglected through the passage of years. The expertly crafted silver hardware had been tarnished and left to accrue a garish black patina, but the carve work was still exquisite. The faucets were all snakes who descended from the top, ending with water spouts emerging from fanged serpent's mouths into the waiting ceramic basins below them.

"That's it," he whispered, walking up to it. "This has to be it, Ron!"

"It?" Lockhart asked dumbly, looking between Harry to Myrtle.

"It's the entrance?" Ron queried, looking unsure.

"It has to be!" Harry clapped him on the shoulder triumphantly. "Myrtle, has anyone else besides us been in here today?"

"Well…" she put a finger to her lips again. "I think so. I heard footsteps followed by a whisper in that weird language, and maybe… well…"

"Well what?" Harry urged her.

"I think I might have seen a ghost? I'm not sure, they were transparent and hard to see- well, more transparent and harder to see than me, at least. The girl at that sink seemed to look like she saw him- the ghost or whatever, I mean- then disappeared when I tried to tell them to get out."

"Right, that just confirms it," Harry nodded and walked up to the sink, looking at it curiously. "How does it open?"

"She said a strange language," Lockhart scoffed, waving a dismissive hand towards the scowling Myrtle. "Nobody here obviously speaks it, so this is as far as we can go!"

"Not likely," Ron rolled his eyes at Lockhart before looking to Harry. "Try telling it to open in Parseltongue!"

"I don't know how to do that," Harry pushed off the sink with both hands and crossed his arms. "It just sorta… happens."

"Well, look at the sink and, I dunno, imagine your talking to a snake, then! Ginny's in there and we need to save her!"

"I know, I know," Harry grumbled and turned to the sink. Taking a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and willed his mind to perceive the sink as a living snake, then said, "Open."

Harry and Ron flung themselves backwards as the entire sink started to shake and move backwards, revealing a portal in the floor that led straight down into darkness below the castle. "Huh, so James was right, it has been using the school's plumbing."

"He sure was," Ron quipped. "Has a habit of it, really."

"I'm going down there," Harry then declared with conviction.

"Well, in that case, I'll just be going," Lockhart nodded to himself and moved to leave. "Looks like you boys have this all well and handled-"

"You're going in first," Ron snarled, jabbing his wand into Lockhart's ribs. "On you get, then!"

Ron shoved the Professor down the hole, making him scream as he tumbled down. His screams lasted a few seconds before a loud "Oof!" echoed up the pipe. "Uh, boys? I'm alright, just in case you were wondering!"

…

Given the early afternoon off, James Dean, Brian, and Kiara were left to their own devices in Ravenclaw Tower. While James and Kiara worked diligently on catching up on their schoolwork while Brian went to his usual spot on the roof to bask in the afternoon sun and let his mind wander. And wander it did, his soul looking around the cosmos at things he had little understanding of, things he knew nothing about, or watching stories he didn't see the start of unfold before him.

A girl ran to school on a rainy day, having forgotten her umbrella at home. Her blonde hair and uniform were soaked, clinging to her slick, slim frame. She panted in foggy puffs as she urged her weak muscles not to give out, before eventually slowing down and giving up entirely, every inch of her wet in urban rain. Her amber eyes glittered as tears started to fall, and she fell to her knees, pounding the pavement as she wailed some untold heartbreak away.

Brian left her to her own devices and moved on to the next. The next was a lot more familiar, and felt a lot more recent… it was… Hogwarts? A spike of panic ran up Brian's spine before he realized he wasn't seeing the school through the eyes of the monster, but rather, from a solo, third person point of view. He saw the daylight, today's daylight, beaming in through the windows as a girl in a Gryffindor uniform with her hood drawn up walked into the second-floor girl's bathroom.

Embarrassed, Brian tried to look away, but couldn't, yet his embarrassment turned into shock as she moved towards an ornate, serpent-themed decorative fountain faucet rather than the toilets. She held a strange, leather bound book in one hand, holding the other hand up, running blood soaked fingers across the head of one of the silver snake heads- wait, blood soaked?

Brian's mind flashed, and he was granted a vision of the same girl drawing her wand across the palm of her hand. Blood spewed forth from a magically created wound, and she started smearing the blood on the walls outside the Great Hall in a disturbing message:

Her skeleton will remain in the Chamber forever.

The blood dripped down her hand freely as she walked away, leaving a trail as she disappeared.

He was back in the second-floor bathroom, then, as she pulled her hand away from the snakehead faucet and pulled back her hood. Vivid red hair shined in the dull light of thee unused lavatory, and she turned to look over her shoulder to look at Brian, her dull brown eyes not really seeing him. He knew her. He knew who she was.

Ginny Weasley.

Those dull, dead-looking brown eyes flicked to and fro, as if looking for him but unable to see him, and she gave up, turning back to the snake faucet. He couldn't hear her talk, but her mouth moved as if she was speaking, and he tried to read her lips to no avail. They moved in an alien, foreign way, as if she was speaking a different language, and the faucet began to shift, sliding back to silently reveal a hole in the floor, a pipe, that led down into a seemingly infinite darkness.

She slung herself into the hole, grasping the edge momentarily to keep herself from falling. Her lips moved in that weird way again, and the massive sink shifted to close yet again. Secure in that her entrance was closing behind her, Ginny dropped, going into a freefall down the massive pipe into the abyss below. Brian followed her as she fell, wondering how she would even survive the impact. She answered his question when she pulled out her wand and flicked her wrist, slowing her descent at seemingly the last second. She landed gracefully on her feet, Brian floating behind her as she stepped over massive shreds of shredded snake skins and piles of small bones.

She held her head aloft and seemed to scream something in English, along the lines of, "Honey, I'm home!" Despite the deadness in her eyes that made her look possessed, she had a jovial, mirthful look on her face, one that seemed at home with a person coming home after a long, tiring journey. For some reason it scared Brian, and that's when he realized it.

Ginny was the Heir. This was the Chamber of Secrets!

Brian needed to pull back, get out of this vision! He needed to tell James, implore Dumbledore to come back! He needed to get help and stop Ginny! But try as he might, no matter how much he struggled against his own mind, beating the metaphorical bars, Brian couldn't come back down from his vision. He was inextricably forced to follow Ginny as she marched forward, deeper into the Chamber. It was a maze of tunnels and sewer pipes, and Brian did his best to commit every turn and twist to memory before the tunnels opened into a massive, black-stone chamber.

Massive serpentine pillars rose from the water pools, intricate scales carved in bas relief against their stone winding up their lengths. The stonework had eroded over the passage of time, but were still prominently featured on them. Emerging from the pool was a statue of a face that looked eerily like that of one Salazaar Slytherin, with empty, open pits for eye sockets and a mouth held open frighteningly, inhumanly wide. From the eyes, a large, hulking serpent emerged, eyes flashing a venomous, acidic yellow with a gaping maw of large, dagger-like, dripping fangs. Many horns, ranging from small to large, emerged from its head, with heavy, armor-like ridges running down its back. These plates, and as well as the scales that emerged from below them, were a dirty-looking bluish black, while the glimpses of underbelly Brian saw were a dull, tannish yellow. The monster snapped its eyes closed and slithered straight up to Ginny, who wrapped an arm around its muzzle and snuggled it briefly, patting it with a hand and saying something in that weird tongue again. The snake reared back, giving Ginny plenty of room, and she stepped over to the center of the chamber, facing the large statue with arms held wide…

And promptly collapsed to the ground.

The leather book in her hands skidded out of her grasp, and from it and her tiny body, a black misty fog spewed forth, taking the shape of a tall, thin, handsome looking boy with black hair and dressed in an outdated Hogwarts uniform. The dullness in Ginny's eyes faded, and she was returned control of her body for a brief second, gasping in shock and bolting to sit upright before those warm, brown eyes fluttered closed and she slumped into the stonework.

"Tom…?" Ginny whispered once before falling unconscious, and Brian started, shocked he could hear her.

Brian wanted to scream, he wanted to cry for help, but couldn't. His emotions seemed to have caught the attention of the black-haired boy, however, and he soon found himself face to face with him. His dark black eyes, looking eerily like Brian's own hollow black eyes, met his and he smiled. It was a cruel, vicious, cold grin that showed a row of perfectly white teeth and malice.

"Enjoy the show, Seer," the boy said before throwing his head back and laughing. Brian couldn't hear it, but he could read his lips and his body language, and Brian could tell he sincerely thought this was all good fun.

The boy walked back to the center of the chamber, standing over Ginny's slumped form and held his arms up and out wide to the statue. He cried something out, and the basilisk furled itself around and slithered back into the statue, while a glowing black line of magical energy sprouted from Ginny to the boy, at each of their navels. Ginny was cascaded in a brilliant yellow glow, while the boy was wrapped in a shady black. Brian watched as, before his very mind's eye, Ginny's glow started slowly growing dimmer, while the boy's own black mist grew larger and seemingly more… animate.

The boy's head whipped around, first to Brian, then over his shoulder back towards where Ginny had came in, and scowled. The basilisk peeked its head out, but the boy shooed him back in. Eyes flicking to Brian, he mouthed, "You can watch your friends die, too, then."

Dread filled Brian's heart at those words. He looked in the direction the boy had, and waited for the inevitable. Minutes ticked by, and the evil boy from the journal only grew stronger while the glow of Ginny's very life grew dimmer and smaller. Suddenly and without any control over his soul, Brian was yanked backwards, flung through walls of black and given only glimpses of light. He was disoriented when he came to a stop but found himself back to the entrance of the Chamber, only to find himself looking at none other than Ron, Harry, and a frazzled Gilderoy Lockhart.

They had fallen into the Chamber, landing thankfully on a cushion of snake shed, and were just pulling themselves free. Harry was shaking his head free of the cobwebs of impact, while Ron struggled to free himself of the confines of shed skin. Lockhart, to Brian's dismay, had found his hand on none other than Ron's discarded broken wand, and his fingers curled around it slowly while the Professor's eyes watched the two Gryffindors with no small level of spite.

"Bloody hell, that was a fall," Ron whimpered, and Brian was surprised to find he could actually hear their voices, too.

"Alright, mate?" Harry queried Ron as he found his footing. Harry pulled his wand out and held it aloft to give them better light. "Lumos!"

"Think so," Ron replied, before going into a small freakout. "My wand!"

"That's far enough, boys," Lockhart stated as he emerged from behind the pile of snakeskin, pointing his pilfered wand at Ron and Harry. "As riveting and fun as this little safari has been, it's time it came to an end."

Harry leveled his own wand in the direction of Lockhart, but Ron grabbed Harry's arm and gave him a knowing grin. Brian watched with a growing sense of pride, then, as Ron started using the secret body language code James, Travis, and himself had taught Ron and Harry. Winking at Harry, Ron then flicked his head to the right, the nodded jerkily at Harry then flicked his head to the left. Harry understood and nodded, then they turned to thee confused Lockhart, who quirked an eyebrow at them.

"Anyway, as I was saying, this little voyage(said in a French accent, for some reason) has come to an end here and now. I'll nab a bit of this skin to prove I was here and that I fought the terrible monster but was unfortunately forced to retreat… unable to save the girl in time. You two will be relieved of your memories of this affair, having lost it at the sight of her mangled body, and I can leave the cleanup of this mess to the proper authorities! I will go down in history as the one man who found the Chamber of Secrets, while you two spend the rest of your lives recovering in St. Mungo's!"

"Fat chance of that," Ron chuckled goadingly. "Go ahead and try your worst, Professor."

Lockhart grinned maniacally and raised Ron's wand high over his head and begun to swish it. "Oh, I shall. Obliviate!"

Before the spell left his lips, Harry dove left to the water soaked ground, Brian's spectral form yanked along with, while Ron scrabbled to the right. As soon as the spell was cast, Ron's wand detonated, backfiring the spell back at Lockhart and sending him flying into the wall, charred and battered. The force of the backfired spell was such that the area around them started to shift and crumble, then massive chunks of dirt and boulder rained down. Brian's spirit was dragged along with Harry as he shoved himself backwards on his hands and butt to get away from the cave in.

"Harry!" Ron screamed from the other side of the cave in. "Alright, mate?"

"Y-Yeah," Harry choked a response over the swirling dust. "You? Where's Lockhart?"

"I'm fine-" Ron paused for a moment, as if he was checking Lockhart. "I think Lockhart's buggered."

"Buggered?" Lockhart's distance voice giggled inquisitively. "What a delightfully funny word… er- who are you?"

"Yeah, he's definitely buggered," Ron affirmed.

"Great, that's all we need," Harry scoffed as he stood up. "A buggered Lockhart with the memories of a two year old!"

"It's a slight bit better than the usual, I think," Ron muttered. "I can't get through to you! The rocks are too heavy. You go on ahead, I'll try to find a way through…"

"Right," Harry replied. "Don't take too long!"

"I won't," Ron affirmed, then paused for a second. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Save my sister, no matter the cost."

"I will, mate," Harry promised. Brian winced. Saving Ginny was going to be a tall order for a twelve year old with a small list of spells at his disposal to wield against the most monstrous creature created by wizarding kind.

"She's the only one I got, Hare," Ron told him hesitantly.

"I'll bring her back no matter what, Ron."

Brian admired his bravery, but idly wondered what Harry could really do against the basilisk without help. But Harry had a determined, of foolishly brave, look on his face, one that Brian found hard to not believe in. Once again, Brian struggled to get free of the grip of the real-time vision he was seeing to no avail. His brother needed help! Why wouldn't it let him go!?

Brian's vision was dragged along after Harry as he tried in vain to comb through the tunnels and pipes. Brian gave up on trying to get out of his own head and instead tried to quietly urge Harry towards the Chamber. No, no, left! LEFT! Dammit, Harry, keep going straight! Atta boy, now left again! That's it, you're almost there! No, the other way, you dunderheaded dimwit!

Finally, Harry emerged into the long hallway that led to the Chamber of Secrets. They were both greeted by the sight of the Chamber of Secrets, the statue of Slytherin's head, and the scene of the nameless uniformed boy standing over the body of Ginny Weasley. Brian noted with shock that her light had dimmed and shrank by half- she was almost drained of her life!

Harry, he's draining her of her life-essence thingy! Brian tried to warn Harry, but Harry couldn't hear him, so Brian was forced to be dragged along while Harry while he bolted to Ginny's side. The specter of the boy said something, making Harry look up at him as he cradled her limp form in his arms.

"Ginny!" He cried as he rubbed the water from her cheeks and looked up at the boy. "Please don't be dead, please don't be dead… What are you doing here, Tom?"

The boy grinned cruelly at them both, making Harry look over his shoulder to where Brian was floating beside him, only to see nothing. Tom's mouth moved, and the barest trace of his words could be heard by Brian. Maybe because Tom was draining Ginny of her energy, he could now be heard while Brian was like this? "I've been waiting for you both. I see your spectral Seer friend has decided to come back after all?"

"Seer friend… wait, Brian?!"

Harry! Brian screamed mentally in consternation, face palming. Don't tell the Spooky Scary McShadyton my real name, you simple sighted simpleton! Wait, why am I talking in alliteration!?

"Hahahaha!" the shade named Tom chuckled heartily. "I was bound to find out what it was eventually, my little voyeur. You have nothing to fear from me; no, I think I can make far too good a use of your unique talents, my friend, to threaten you."

I'm no friend of yours, Brian spat.

"Look, I dunno what's going on here, but Ginny needs our help, Tom!" Harry insisted, moving to stand up and haul Ginny away.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Tom warned him darkly.

Do it Harry! Brian insisted. Get her away from him quick!

Harry looked up at Tom, confused. "Why? She needs help!"

"Because my return is almost complete."

Return?

"Return?" Harry asked, squinting in the dark and holding up his lit wand to get a closer look at Tom. "Are you a ghost?"

Tom chuckled and pointed to the journal Ginny dropped when she collapsed. "Of sorts, I suppose. I am a memory, a fragment of the soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle, left to be preserved in his journal for the last fifty years."

"Look, Tom, I need your help," Harry pleaded. "We need to get out of here, there's a basilisk!"

But Tom, true to what Brian expected, didn't move. No, of course he wouldn't. Harry couldn't see what Brian could, that Tom was absorbing Ginny's very life into his spectral form. That was why he could hear him speak, now. He was getting stronger, realer by the second while Harry struggled to put the pieces of the puzzle together. So lax was Harry in his mental struggle for answers that he didn't even see Tom swoop down and scoop up Ginny's wand.

"Please, Tom," Harry begged, as he shook his head. "If that basilisk comes-"

"It won't come unless it is called," Tom assured Harry with a knowing smile.

"Look, I don't think you understand! We can talk later, once we get out of here!"

"Oh, I've waited for this moment for a long time, Mr. Harry Potter, so I think we will talk right now. Oh, but to speak with the Boy Who Lived! A shame your nasty little mongrel twin wasn't here himself to make it a more proper… reunion."

Harry paled at those words, absorbing the meaning and the innuendo of them. "Are you…"

"Figured it out already, have you?" Tom craned his neck up a bit in pleasantly disturbed surprise. "How clever of you. I for one would have thought you'd need your cleverer, smarter guard dog to do your thinking for you! Oh, but what a pleasant surprise that you actually do have a brain betwixt those ears."

"What did you do to Ginny."

"Ohoho, but it was simple," Tom motioned again to his journal, his words speaking to Harry but his eyes burning into Brian's, glinting with cruel amusement. "The diary, my diary! Little Ginevra here's been writing in it for months, telling me all about her woes. How awfully her brothers tease her, how scared she is of the fact they hate her, how she with her ginger hair and ugly freckles and mud-colored eyes would never catch the eye of her favorite hero, Harry Potter…

"It's really quite a bore, you know, listen to little girls prattle on and on and on-" he started twirling Ginny's wand around in a circular motion as he started to pace, eyes rolling as he did. "-about their pathetic boy crushes. But I am nothing if not a patient man, so I wrote back, acting the kind and caring fool I pretended to be back in the old days. Its amazing how pliant fools can be when someone shows them a basic human kindness. Soon I had this trite and pathetic worm eating out of my hands, pouring her very soul into me! It was delicious, being so happily fed all her worst fears and anxieties. Made me stronger, gave me more control!"

He said control with shaken, balled fists in front of him, making him look to Brian like a stereotypical Hollywood villain.

"So easy to charm her! 'Oh, Tom,, I wish you were real!' Well, how can I say no to that wish? Just never did tell her that to make it come true, she'd have to disappear, but eh, details… The more control Ginevra gave unto me, the more power I gained. Oh, how good it feels to be alive! To put my soul into flesh, and blood, and feel again!"

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Harry spat.

"Haven't you figured it out yet, my clever little Gryffindor? Ginny's the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets."

"How?" Harry demanded.

She didn't open it, you did, Brian muttered. You used her to open it for you.

"Yes!" Tom screamed, pointing at Brian before throwing his arms out wide. "And we have a winner! Yes, I possessed Ginny and used her open my Chamber yet again!"

Harry looked at the empty space the spectral form of Brian's consciousness inhabited in confusion and shook his head. "I guess… Not-Brian figured it out?"

"That he did, the clever little birdie!" Tom chuckled heartily while clapping his hands. "Those Ravenclaws certainly have a way with the mind, don't they? But yes, it was Ginny who beset the monster of Slytherin upon Filch's cat, the adoring Potter fanboy with a huge crush on your brother, and on your trifling Mudblood brother and best friend. She wasn't aware of what was happening at first. 'Dear Tom, I think I'm going crazy! I don't remember what happened last night at all, and Filch's cat got hurt! Dear Tom, I woke up this morning and my robes were full of bloody chicken feathers, and all of Hagrid's chickens are dead! My brother keeps telling me I look sick and that I'm not acting myself! I think he thinks I'm the Heir!? There was another attack today, and I don't know where I was!' Hahahaha, it took her a long, good time to start suspecting her enchanted diary to be possessing her!"

"So, what you really mean is that you set Slytherin's monster on them," Harry snarled, his hands curled into fists so tight his fingernail dug into his skin. "Through Ginny."

"Bah, semantics," Tom waved him off dismissively. "Semantics that will be forever ignored as she lays down here, a false villain to the rest of world for all time. You see, before Ginny began to suspect I was possessing her, she told me everything. Especially everything there was to know about you and your twin brother James."

"And why are we so interesting?" Harry said, but it was obvious it was taking everything he had to keep his voice steady through the rage burning through him. "Why were you so eager to meet us?"

"Your history… it is truly so fascinating! To learn that I played a part in separating your family after you took everything from me was the most delicious part," Tom's eyes flicked to the scar on Harry's forehead. "So, I knew I had to rub salt in your wounds. That's why, the first chance I got, I showed you my glorious capturing of Hagrid! The blundering oaf was so easy to frame it was almost boring, but it was necessary… so, so necessary…"

"You framed him!" Harry spat. "Hagrid's my friend! How could you have gotten away with it?"

"You should find better friends, then," Riddle laughed derisively. "It's easy to believe the word of a star student over the fatass freak nobody likes, anyway. You could imagine how it looked to that fool Armando Dippet. The freaky half-giant with no friends, always getting bullied, and always gets caught trying to cozy up with monsters? He clearly adored them, and had all the reason in the world to hate the rest of the student body, didn't he? It was almost too perfect of a set up. The only thing keeping it from going to perfection was Dumbledore…"

"What'd Dumbledore do?"

"Convinced Dippet to keep Hagrid at the school as a glorified lawn mower! How I wished instead the freaky fool was rotting to death in Azkaban, but it can't helped, can it? No, Dumbledore didn't believe it was Hagrid and convinced Dippet of such, not long after Hagrid got his wand snapped in two… damned old man never did like me like the other teachers…"

Sounds like Dumbledore, true to form, saw the truth, Brian observed. You could convince everyone but the most important one.

"Dumbledore saw right through your ruse," Harry sneered.

"Well, he certainly made life difficult afterwards," Tom sneered. "I couldn't very well return to thee Chamber after all that, could I? But I wasn't going to let it go to waste. So, I left my diary, enchanted with a piece of my memories where someone could find in the event everything fell apart, and waited. After I fell, it found its way into poor Ginevra's hands here, and that, as we say, is that."

"And now what are you planning?" Harry asked.

"I plan on returning to the world as I was back then in my prime, and continuing Salazaar Slytherin's noble work while also working towards my ultimate goal; my ascension to true immortality!"

That's not going to happen, Brian informed him. We will stop you.

"You are worthless mongrel of a boy who's only defining trait is seeing things you shouldn't," Tom harped on him derisively. "You can't even get out of your own head, can you, boy? Of course, you can't. Reality hurts too much for you, doesn't it? Isn't that right…"

Tom burned his eyes into Brian's with a wicked grin. "… little scamp?"

Brian gasped as his mind flashed, and he was back to being a toddler. It all felt real, too real. He was naked, tied down to his uncle's mattress face down, feeling the course, dirty sheets dig into his exposed skin. The smell of Granny's caustic catpiss perfume mingled with sweat and cigarette smoke. He could hear the TV in living room play the NFL play offs. He heard Granny pull a drag from her cigarette, then a grunt as his Uncle snagged the lit smoke from her hands. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Uncle Frank's nude beer gut before he backed away again. The chubby, cruel man knelt on the mattress, swung a leg over Brian's body, leaned onto him and shoved that still-lit cigarette right in the middle of his shoulder-

Brian snapped himself free of the horrible memories and wheeled to glare at Tom.

I have no idea how the hell you did that or where you heard that insult, but I will kill you for figuring it out.

Tom clapped merrily. "Aw, you snapped out of the memory right before the good parts! That Uncle of yours- quite the enduring animal he was, for a filthy fat muggle. Quite a bit of stamina for a tub of lard!"

There is not a single redeeming quality to that bastard!

"You're actually quite right, Brian," Tom shrugged. "As a muggle, he's little more than a filthy animal!"

His actions are what made him an animal, not the way he was born, Brian seethed.

"Agree to disagree," Tom winked.

How do you even know I'm here? Brian asked.

"Oh, I can see you because I'm an inanimate being just as you are, so while not the same, I can see enough of you to know you're there. But we are getting off track, aren't we, my little scamp? Yes, my return is almost complete, but you are going to try and stop me, aren't you, Harry? So sorry for ignoring you but toying with your brother was far too good a chance to pass up."

"I have no idea what just happened or what you did to Brian but I'm going to make you pay for doing that."

Tom looked happy at the declaration. "You're more than welcome to try, I'm open to the entertainment. It's not like I'm scared of a talentless, average-quality wizard, despite however he may have managed to defeat the greatest wizard in all history… That's the only reason why I am so obsessed with you. How in the world did you manage to defeat me!?"

Harry's eyes bugged out as realization hit both him and Brian simultaneously. Tom's smile grew wider and more maniacal the more scared they started to look, and Tom threw back a gleeful laugh. "That's right, you fools! Voldemort is my past, my current, my future!"

He swept Ginny's wand up and started magically writing into thin air. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE glowed a demonic red as he finished, then he flicked the wand carelessly, making the letters rearrange into I AM VOLDEMORT.

"Voldemort, a French-based name I took back when I was still here in school known only to my closest friends- er, allies, followers. You don't think I would go around carrying the baggage associated with my filthy muggle father's name, do you? Not befitting a man such as I, not when the pure blood of Salazaar Slytherin himself runs in my veins!"

"You're not," Harry croaked as he cradled his scar in his hands.

"Not what?" Voldemort's shade asked dumbly.

"You're not the greatest wizard in history," Harry explained, looking up Riddle with rebellious eyes. "That honor belongs to someone else, and even then… there will be somebody else greater than them at something they're dreadful at. Nobody is truly the 'greatest' wizard. You failed because you seem to think its possible… to be omnipotent. You're the fool, here, Tom, not everyone else."

Brian quirked an eyebrow at his brother in slight admiration. For such childish mannerisms, Harry really could be… well, wise, at times.

"But there is one who is better than you in almost any aspect. His name's Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore! You know its true, because even when you were at your most powerful, you couldn't even hope to beat him! That's why you never confronted him, that's why you never tried to take him on! You're afraid! You're afraid of him!"

Tom's carefree visage eroded quickly, and he was left snarling. "Dumbledore's presence was banished from this castle at the mere memory of me!"

"His presence isn't as gone as you clearly think!" Harry roared as a swan song echoed throughout the chamber, and a flash of red swooped down the hall, revealing itself to be Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, which now overhead and dropped a large leather package at Harry's feet. The Sorting Hat, crumpled and aged, patched and worn, flopped to a sad stop at his toes.

"That's a phoenix," Tom stated simply as the bird flew overhead.

"Yes, it is," Harry mumbled in disbelief and disappointment.

Fawkes? Brian asked, looking up at the familiar bird. What are you doing here?

"And that's the Sorting Hat," Tom continued, looking down at the hat at Harry's feet.

"Yup," Harry droned, feeling so underwhelmed at how his declaration had led to such an anticlimactic end. Harry deflated at the absurdity of it all while Voldemort burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The chamber echoed his shrill cries of amusement as he tried and failed to contain his mirth.

"Ahahahahaha! That's- that's the best Dumbledore can do!? A stupid bird and a singing hat? That's what he sends his Champion?! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Harry swooped down to pick up the hat as Fawkes came to roost on his shoulder. The bird preened itself as its claws dug into his skin reassuringly, gently, to let him know it was there. It looked at Brian, as if recognizing he was there, and seemed to… nod? Then it looked back the way it came, just as four figures came barreling down the hallway. They took the shape of James Dean Potter, Kiara Emmaline Kennedy, Ronald Weasley, and…. Himself?!

What? Brian asked, before he chanced a look at Harry's watch: 7:37. As soon as he read the time, he was snagged backwards, his vision fading as he was ripped from his vision and back to full consciousness. He opened his eyes to find himself bathed in the starlight beaming down on the Top of Ravenclaw tower. He snagged at his watch: 7:20. He had exactly… seventeen minutes to get down to the Chamber and make what he just saw true!

Stumbling his stiff self into the window, he flopped face first onto the floor with a grunt, his mind running far faster than his body. Peeling himself up on his hands and knees with a suffering groan, he ambled on his hands and knees for the common room. He needed to get James!