Tom is out the door and stalking down the halls of Hogwarts before Percy hits the ground.
He has maybe a half of an hour to get to the Chamber entrance, open it up, and get down there before Dumbledore arrives.
Fortunately Tom just needs to get in and then let the entrance close behind him, because even if the faculty has a pretty good idea as to where the Chamber entrance is, without the parseltongue password even Dumbledore shouldn't be able to get in- not for a while, in any case. The entrance is too well-warded.
(It's a damn good thing the others had done all that research, though- otherwise Tom wouldn't be able to pull off already knowing where the Chamber is.)
That look of hurt betrayal in Percy's eyes… hilarious. Especially since as far as Tom is concerned, he'd done Percy a favor: by the time he wakes up, everything will already be over. Tom feels another laugh bubbling up in his chest.
Of course, things might not end well for the youngest Weasley brat, but that's never been Tom's problem- he'd anticipated her death from the very beginning of this whole debacle.
The laughter dies before it can climb up and out of his throat as Tom walks down another flight of stairs. Imagine that- Harry taken to the Chamber. How did that even happen?
Tom has dueled the boy and he's… well, there's a lot room for improvement, but more importantly, Tom had seen the boy wandlessly, wordlessly, and effortlessly harness fiendfyre- so hot it burns white instead of red. The moment Tom had seen that, he'd known that he'd have to drastically adjust his strategy.
On second thought, that whole day had been Tom radically adjusting his strategies- ever since he'd woken up in the real world for the first time in fifty years and looked directly into the worried face of the very boy Ginny couldn't stop going on and on and on about: Harry Potter. The savior of wixen-kind, the Boy-Who-Lived.
And he has Tom's face.
Another burst of rage swells up. Tom doesn't know how or why the Riddle line was continued, but he does know one thing: How dare Voldemort (that's the only way Tom can think of the wraith, of the Tom that got to grow up) allow it to happen. Intentional or not, it's proof that Voldemort was a mistake. A mistake that Tom now has to remedy.
A mistake that's about to undo all the hard and unbelievably tedious work Tom has put into gaining the boy's trust.
Tom quickens his pace.
Harry is powerful, but also stupid about other people.
(Something he'd gotten from his mother, no doubt- that's certainly not a character flaw Tom has ever had to navigate.
Everything else Harry seemed to have gotten from his Riddle side. Looks especially. That face, the face Tom remembers catching glimpses of in dusty mirrors and cracked reflections during the worst years of his life. Sometimes Tom catches himself looking at the boy and checking him over for bruises, or signs of malnourishment.
It's nothing more than a remnant of his own days in the orphanage, no doubt- regardless, it's an annoying habit that Tom has to continually remind himself to drop.)
All someone would need to do to kidnap Harry is to threaten someone- anyone, really, but ideally one of his friends. That's probably why the Ginny girl was taken too- collateral. It's what Tom would do, anyways.
But why? Tom can think of one reason, and it's not pretty. He's half running at this point, getting closer and closer to the Chamber's entrance.
"Tom!"
Tom skids to a stop and turns around, looking down.
"Merlin," he says. This could be… difficult.
Merlin slithers up to him, tongue flickering. Tom squats, letting her climb up his arm. He needs to be careful to speak english around her- shame he didn't think of pretending the diary turned him into a Parselmouth.
"I know you can't understand me all the way, but you gotta help Harry! It was Lockhart." Tom doesn't believe that fool is truly behind this for one second, but lets the snake continue:
"He kidnapped me and put me in a cage and forced Harry into going with him and then Ginny showed up and then they left and then I panicked and then I did that weird thing where I pushed on something and then I was free and now we need to go fast! Do you know where they went? I can smell them, maybe?"
Tom blinks. Merlin is by far the oddest snake he has ever met- by product of living with Harry her whole life, he's sure.
"I already know Harry is missing," Tom says finally. "I'm going after him right now."
"Great, what are we waiting for, then? Let's go."
Tom can't have Merlin with him. At best, she's a liability. With that in mind, he reaches his wand up and taps her on the snout, sending a stunner through her. She goes limp.
"Stay asleep," Tom hisses, letting some magic flow through his words- taking care to keep it gray, and not dark.
Ever since being freed by the diary, dark magic doesn't agree with Tom. It's been- well. Annoying. But gray magic is a fine enough substitute, and Tom knows he'll be able to figure out the problem at some point.
He can feel the magic take effect, so he gently pulls Merlin from his shoulder and places her on the ground behind a suit of armor, coiling her up nicely. Hopefully the Parselmagic will bypass whatever magic Merlin has access to via the Stone.
Then he stands up and lets out a snort. Look at that: the message that has everyone in a tizzy. Red paint- or possibly blood. Tom cocks his head, looking the words over.
Then he realizes that the words are in Harry's handwriting.
Tom feels the world around him slow down. He can hardly believe the audacity of Voldemort. Doesn't he know that Harry is Tom's? Tom isn't running around trying to mess with Orion or Abraxas.
Tom takes a moment to wrestle his rage back under control- he needs to have at least a modicum of control if he wants to be able to get into the position where he can rip his older self into pieces.
Tom lets out a long breath, then turns around and pushes into the out-of-order bathroom, not bothering to knock. If Myrtle is in here, there's nothing Tom can do about it now.
She's in here. But, she's weeping in her stall, so Tom is hoping that she won't hear him hissing over the sound of her own cries. The Chamber entrance has sealed itself shut once more, so Tom has to wait as it opens again on his command. He's feeling impatient- was it this slow fifty years ago? Surely not.
Myrtle definitely heard him, but apparently hearing Parseltongue just sets her off again, so Tom decides not to worry about her sticking her nose into things that aren't her business.
It's a shame the girl's spirit didn't move on- when he'd killed her, Tom truly hadn't intended on subjecting Hogwarts to Myrtle's moping for eternity.
A part of him wonders why she is how she is. From what he's heard, she tends to swing wildly between extreme highs and lows, which is atypical for ghosts- who usually stick to just a few mild emotions.
He might look into it later- except he doesn't actually care, so he probably won't. Tom has bigger things to worry about.
At last the sink has sunk fully into the ground, revealing the pipe descending into darkness. Tom hasn't physically been here in fifty years, and it's disheartening to see that all his hard work in cleaning the place up has been for naught.
Tom isn't going to dwell on that, right now. Who knows how long Harry has been down there for already: it's entirely possible that Tom is already too late.
Tom shakes his head of that thought, and lowers himself into the dirty pipe. He'd ask for some stairs, but those take three times as long to appear, and are loud.
After Tom is deposited onto the familiar bone-littered floor of the cave, he waves his wand to simultaneously clean himself off and summon a couple floating white lights that trail behind him as he walks forward. He's taking it slow now, stepping carefully and listening hard. Tom is keeping his eyes half-lidded, ready to slam shut at a moment's notice.
Tom catches a glimpse of green snake-skin and closes his eyes, heart pounding. He grimaces.
Tom is not used to feeling fear while at Hogwarts, but as it turns out, the idea of an insane basilisk is a lot less fun when it's not under Tom's control. After a moment of silence, Tom cracks an eye open, careful to be looking down below where the basilisk's eye would be.
It's just some shed skin- Tom lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He readjusts his grip on his wand, cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and ventures onwards.
It's not too long before Tom arrives at the door to the Chamber. It's still open, and Tom holds in a scoff. Idiotic. Maybe Lockhart is contagious- that would explain a lot.
Using the fact that he doesn't need to open a loud and heavy door to his advantage, Tom slips into the room, casting a mild disillusionment charm on himself and dismissing his own lights. He sticks to the shadows, the green light of the room providing ample opportunity to slide from one shadow to another, creeping ever closer to the front of the chamber.
When he gets close enough, Tom sticks his head out from behind the column he's hiding behind, taking in the scene before him:
Gilderoy Lockhart is in a mild state of disarray. He's covered in chalk and has a shallow cut running up his left arm.
On the floor is a chalk circle with several runic signs- some Tom recognizes, some he does not. Tom has always found Runes to be tedious, even if it is useful- so he's rustier on the subject then he should be.
He knows enough to know that this is absolutely a dark ritual- so dark it borders black, in fact. At least it's not the Horcrux ritual Tom had feared- that would have been incredibly nasty, and dangerous to disrupt.
Tom sees no sign of the basilisk, which means it's either still sleeping, or lurking somewhere close. Tom wonders idly if he should try summoning it, then dismisses that thought almost immediately.
Tom doesn't know if he's still considered an Heir of Slytherin, but even if he was, he's sure that the current Lord Slytherin (wherever he is) will hold more sway over the monster than an heir would- and even if Tom was the Lord, the basilisk isn't exactly sane. Confusing it wouldn't do any good for anyone.
Tom looks past Lockhart to see Harry tied up to a stone column- Harry looks unhurt, but shaken. He's very pale, and he doesn't look like he's breathing- or, if he is, it is very shallow. Tom puffs out his cheeks. That boy needs to calm down- he won't be any help to Tom if he passes out.
Tom looks past Harry, and to the foot of the statue- there, the Weasley girl. Ginny. She's tied up and shaking, tears running down her face.
Useless. Although, that is right near where the basilisk will let out. With any luck, Ginny will make a nice snack for it and give Tom time to get Harry and himself out of here.
Lockhart steps into the circle, clapping excitedly. "Alright! Let's get this show on the road!"
Ginny flinches, and Harry looks like he's trying to turn into stone himself. Tom narrows his eyes, looking the ritual circle over again. It seems complicated, but Tom gets the gist of it- it's bordering soul magic, possibly a short-form possession based ritual.
Tom has no doubt that Voldemort is behind this somehow- does he hope to possess Harry? Then why did Lockhart give blood? And he's the one in the circle, not Harry-
Ah. Shit. Tom abruptly realizes what's about to happen, but is too late to stop it. Lockhart is already drawing his wand up, then slashing it down sharply. The man stands for a moment, looking confusedly at the circle, when he collapses to the ground as though his strings have all been cut at once.
Tom is already running- he doesn't have a lot of time to do this. He stops in front of Harry, wand out and waving over the stone snakes. There's a little bit of resistance, but Tom grits his teeth and pushes through to reanimate them anyways. Harry sags a little bit as they release him.
"Tom, is that you?" Harry asks. Tom's disillusionment charm is holding, then. That's good, being recognized by Voldemort right now would be catastrophic. "Merlin-"
"Safe," Tom says. Harry throws himself at Tom, who forces himself to catch the boy in a hug instead of stepping backwards.
"Thank you," Harry whispers.
"Yeah, uh," Tom says, thrown off. "Look, Harry, we have to get out of here. We don't have a lot of… time…"
Tom is suddenly very cognizant of the hissed laughter emanating from behind him. He whirls around, pushing Harry behind him.
He watches in mild fascinated horror as the thing that used to be Lockhart rises to its feet. It's awful to watch, each limb moving jerkily- like a child picking up a marionette for the first time.
The puppet's eyes are glazed over and its mouth is slack- it's wearing a… is that a circlet? How did Tom not notice that before? Must have been a pretty powerful notice-me-not.
"Burn him," Tom says, not taking his eyes off of the puppet."Harry, burn him."
"I-" Harry chokes out. "I can't, it- it won't stop-"
Tom grits his teeth against the scream of rage that's threatening to burst from him. What does that even mean- is Harry seriously worried about Lockhart's safety at this point?
Why does he even bother? Tom should just leave them both to die- it's nothing more than what they deserve. There is no point to a kill-switch with morals.
Ugh. Tom needs to focus. Morals can be trained out of a person. Tom can worry about that later- for now, the plan stays the same: get Harry out. Ginny, too, if the opportunity arises.
Speaking of, the girl has started struggling in earnest now, wriggling her way away from the statue and towards the closest column.
The puppet's jaw clicks shut and then opens again. It repeats this a couple times, before its lips twist into a cruel smile. Despite himself, Tom feels a chill run up his spine.
"Hello, children," the puppet says in english. "Are you going to make this easy, or difficult?"
"Depends," Harry says, stepping out from behind Tom.
If Tom never has to see a Gryffindor again, it'll be too soon.
"What's in it for us?" Harry continues.
The puppet cocks its head. "I can promise a swift and painless death for the girl."
"Not bloody likely," Ginny mutters as she continues to make her way over to the shadows.
The puppet doesn't seem bothered by her getting away, which doesn't bode well for her. The puppet also doesn't seem bothered by Harry's appearance, which means it probably can't see very well. Yet, at least.
Tom decides to keep the disillusionment going anyway, just in case.
"That's not a very good deal," Harry scoffs. "You're not very good at this."
"Neither of you are leaving this Chamber alive. Make peace with your death and go quietly, or I torture you all to death."
"Even Harry?" Tom asks.
The puppet turns to look at him, cocking its head as though this is the first time it's noticed Tom.
"You clearly need something from him, otherwise you'd just kill us all and be done with it."
"Oh, another one. Wonderful." The puppet waves his wand and ropes weave around Tom- he doesn't bother dodging. As if ropes are going to do anything to stop Tom.
The important thing is that the puppet doesn't seem to recognize Tom. In fact, Tom is becoming more and more sure it can't even see. Not conventionally, anyways.
Then the puppet flicks his wand and Tom can only watch as his own wand flies out of his hand and into the puppet's. Tom wants to kick himself- he'd been so worried about being recognized that he'd let his guard down. This might be… bad.
"As to your question- Potter's death will be painful regardless," the puppet continues, pocketing Tom's wand. "Regretful, but unavoidable."
"I wouldn't say unavoidable," Tom counters, mind racing. "There are plenty of possession rituals that don't require the death of the subject. Not that you seem familiar with those," Tom adds, nodding meaningfully at the smudged chalk circle on the floor.
That actually is one of those rituals, from what Tom can tell, so Lockhart isn't dead- but if Harry thinks he is, then maybe he'll have less qualms about burning the professor to death.
The puppet throws its head back and laughs, high-pitched and cruel. Tom grimaces, hoping that Harry doesn't recognize it- Tom's been careful to mask the sound of his laugh, but not that careful.
Harry shudders but doesn't look betrayed, so Tom decides he's probably in the clear.
"Silly boy," the puppet laughs. "I'm not possessing Potter. As you can see, I already have a body- no, I'll be taking the boy's power for myself."
Tom smothers the wave of rage that swells within him. Oh yes. He's familiar with that one.
Tom doesn't have a weak stomach, not by any stretch of the imagination, and even he would never in a million years dream of performing it- well, not on a loyal follower, anyways. And Harry isn't just a follower, he's a- he's, he is an investment. Which makes the idea of him being forced to go through this ritual even worse.
"Enough stalling," the puppet says, twirling his wand. "Have you made your decision?"
Tom sees Harry's gaze dart over to where Ginny has now disappeared into the shadows. Then, Harry catches Tom's eyes. Tom sighs, but nods imperceptibly.
"I'm waiting," the puppet says, raising an eyebrow. Its fine motor control is getting better every passing moment.
Harry doesn't bother responding. He just shoots off into the darkness, away from where Ginny is probably still struggling with those ropes.
At the same time, Tom wandlessly transfigures the ropes around him into ash and runs in a third direction, away from Harry but still angled away from where Ginny likely lays.
The puppet lets out another terrible laugh- Tom has to give it to himself. His laugh really is very off-putting.
"You choose pain, then."
And then the puppet starts to summon the monster.