This fic is for the November Assignment for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.
Assignment #6: Wandlore
Task 2: Voldemort's wand - Write about a villain
This is easily as close to a drabble as I will ever get. I'm so proud. Nothing but desperation (and classic procrastination chaos) could have brought this brevity out of me.
Disclaimer: I refuse to put one. Y'all know who Harry Potter belongs to. Google it if you don't. (It's not me, by the way. Just so we're clear. Please don't do that to yourselves.)
Word count: 705 words.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Tom Riddle discovers the Chamber of Secrets.
When Tom Riddle comes upon the towering statue of his ancestor in the Chamber of Secrets, he feels vindicated.
"Open," he hisses in Parseltongue, hoping against hope that his instinct rings true and the statue is the key to the Chamber's treasure trove of dark secrets. Slytherins may be prideful, but there is reason behind every single thing they do. Salazar is the original Slytherin; he, above all else, would know better than to erect a self-portrait sculpture so colossal without it serving a higher purpose. The grand keeper of all his many secrets.
Tom hopes these secrets are juicy.
Even as he thinks the thought, Salazar Slytherin's stone mouth unhinges, slow and grinding, to reveal a cave. And from within that cave uncoils the most magnificent beast Tom has ever laid eyes on.
A basilisk.
"Oh, you beauty," Tom murmurs to himself as he drinks in the sight. The serpent is truly breath-taking, fifty feet of coiled lethality, with darkly shimmering scales of true emerald green and a mouth full of deadly fangs. It's eyes are a sharp, poisonous yellow, and belatedly, Tom remembers that he should turn away from the predator's gaze before it steals the life out of his body, but he is spellbound, transfixed. Trapped.
Look away, fool! he commands himself in panic, but he finds that he simply cannot tear his eyes away from the basilisk. It is simply too entrancing to be ignored.
He should be dead by now. But he isn't. Either the legends are untrue, or this basilisk might be bestowed special powers to control its deadly gaze. Maybe Tom might just be immune. This last thought excites him.
Immunity. Immunity from death. If only it was so.
The basilisk opens its giant mouth and lets out a long, continuous hiss. The sibilant sound wraps itself around Tom's ears and pours into his mind until hisses transform into careful words.
"The blood of Slytherin runs through your veins. I can taste it on you. Have you come to free me?"
Tom stares up at this majestic form and its simple-minded question and realises, all at once, that with just a few well-chosen words, he could possess the deadliest weapon in the world in the palm of his sixteen-year-old hands.
"I am the last true descendant of Salazar Slytherin," Tom declares, squaring his shoulders and tipping his head up to the beast. "In freeing you, he has chosen me as your new master. Are you willing to submit to my command?"
The basilisk tastes the air and assesses him with intelligent eyes for one long, breathless moment, until it lowers its giant head to the cold stone floor and bows before Tom.
"I live to serve, master," it hisses obediently, warily. "But I fear I will not be of much advantage to you in this weak state. I require sustenance. If I may be let out to feast, just this once… one meager feast… I will do your bidding for as long as you please. My loyalty will be unmatched."
Tom mulls this over, growing increasingly gleeful as he comes up with satisfying new ways to fulfil this request. "Would a Mudblood human suffice?"
The basilisk raises its head, startled. This time, when it tastes the air, its yellow eyes gleam ravenously.
"Oh, master, a human would do nicely. I haven't feasted off human flesh in over three hundred years."
Tom's cruel lips curl into a slow smirk. "An incentive, then, for you to perform the duties I am about to request of you."
All the pieces were falling into place. A servant and an assassin; Tom's first worthy companion. With a basilisk by his side to guard him, he is as good as immortal. It won't be long before he rids Hogwarts of its Mudblood scum and scrubs the castle walls clean and pure. He will renew the integrity of his home; start off this school with a clean slate.
And when Hogwarts is remade in his image, he will focus on the next step. And the next, and the next, till he has the entire magical world in his grasp.
Before long, wizards and creatures alike will bow before him. The last true heir of Slytherin.