At long last, we see the true Emily.

Only one chapter remains in year two of AFiF. After that, I may take a brief break period between posting again to ensure I have enough chapters prepared to post comfortably. Once I have done so, I will begin posting year three. For more up-to-date details, check out my discord.

I've started a Discord. I intend for it to be a small, relaxed server - nothing to fancy or grand. If you have any questions about my writing, want to discuss my work, or simply want to hang out, you're more than welcome to join. The link is in my profile.

Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.

The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.


Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate

The Riddle's Plight

XVI. The Riddle's Plight

The cold, frigid air of the chamber pressed tight against his skin. Harry watched as his breath slid from his lips, fogging up before his very eyes. Past it, standing mere feet from him, was her -

The girl from the Mirror of Erised. Her.

Her hair was long and dark. Her eyes, hazel in colour, sat above high cheekbones. Her skin was pale and smooth, her lips soft and pink. Harry saw a glimmer of white as she smiled. He frowned.

Not identical, though.

Harry watched uncertainly as the girl straightened up. There was a certain ghost-like quality to her form. Her skin seemed to glow in a way that didn't feel human, and her eyes lacked the shine of the girl in the mirror. Her robes were different, too. They were older, looking far less comfortable than his own.

There's more. Something else.

Her eyes flickered. Curiosity brimmed behind hazel irises, but the fondness she had shown in the mirror was almost gone.

Almost . . .

"You recognize me." the girl noted, her eyebrows pressed together, "That is . . . unexpected - but you have a way of surprising me, I suppose."

She tore her eyes away from him, bending over to pluck something from the ground. Harry watched as she twirled it around, almost jumping when he realised what it was.

My wand.

"Surely you know who I am?" the girl brought the end of the wand to her eye, inspecting it. Her gaze flicked from it to him, and she lowered it slowly, "Surely you've figured it out by now?"

Harry paused. An answer swam to the tip of his tongue, and his lips forced themselves open -

"Emily." breathed Harry.

"Emily." she agreed, flashing a flawless smile, "Emily Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin."

The world spun. Harry stumbled as the air fled from his lungs. He forced himself to look up. Emily was watching him still, her head tilted slightly to the side.

"No." Harry swallowed, staring through the blurred air, "No, that's not - that doesn't -"

"Doesn't it?"

Harry flinched. Emerald eyes met those of hazel, doing their very best not to waver.

"How? Why?"

There might be a reason. Something, anything -

"Why don't you take a guess?" Emily smiled again, her eyes trailing across him before pausing at his scar. She studied it carefully, "You're very good at those, aren't you, Harry?"

She edged closer. Low sounds echoed through the chamber as she walked a slow circle around him, her gaze sliding from his head to his chest down to his legs. She seemed relaxed - her fingers curled leisurely around the wand wrapped in her palms.

"I said guess, Harry." she frowned, leaning closer. An outstretched hand reached towards his hair, and though Harry felt no flesh, his hair shifted, "Tell me what you think . . ."

Hazel eyes swam into view. Emily watched his every move with what could only be described as fascination. Her irises pulsed, glowing slightly. Harry jumped as they flashed scarlet. Red like blood and cruel like knives, it burnt itself into Harry's mind -

Like hers. Just like hers -

"Guess, Harry." her lips thinned, and her faded to hazel once more, "I won't ask again."

"You're a Parselmouth." he mumbled, "That's how you knew everything you did about Parseltongue. You wouldn't have been able to teach me otherwise."

Riddle nodded.

"I had expected you to realise that earlier." she admitted softly, "But you were distracted . . . I suppose I have only myself to blame for that . . ."

Her eyes glowed blood-red, and she turned back to him. A hand, pale and dainty, snaked its way towards the underside of his jaw, and the girl from the diary of the mirror - Harry wasn't sure which - spoke once more.

"Keep speaking." she whispered fondly, "There's so much more to it, as I'm sure you know."

Harry looked up. She was watching him, her fingers sliding across the side of his neck. Her touch felt like ice, and her eyes were latched upon his. They were hazel again - Harry was very grateful for that.

"I talked to Hagrid after you showed me your memory of capturing him." Harry muttered, "He told me about a girl who had died in his third year. A girl that had died because of the chamber. Aragog, his Acromantula, told me where she was killed. In a bathroom, on the second floor."

Emily flashed a flawless smile.

"Myrtle Warren." she whispered, nodding, "Moaning Myrtle."

She straightened up, twirling his wand between her fingers.

"And the monster?" she asked, "That was what you were after, was it not?"

Dark, golden orbs loomed before the eye of his mind, but Harry nervously pushed them aside.

"A Basilisk." he gulped, "A Basilisk."

Emily nodded, smiling.

"You did well." she said approvingly, "I didn't know how much you'd manage to discover. Consider me impressed."

Harry shivered. His eyes slid from her eyes to her cheekbones, down past her flawless smile and her smooth, pale skin. Her hair, black as coal and perfectly straight, sat neatly upon her shoulders.

"You knew." he swallowed, watching as Emily's smile wavered, "You're behind everything. You -"

Her paused, his lips fighting to speak.

"You did this."

Across from him, Emily frowned.

"I've done many things, Harry." she whispered, "Were you anyone else, I wouldn't bother delving into it . . . but all you have to do is ask . . ."

"What, then?" Harry spat. He forced his head still, his hands shaking at his sides, "What else are you not telling me?"

But the girl turned away, walking towards the statue of Salazar Slytherin. She slowly raised his wand, and as it slashed through the air, crimson words shot from its tip. Harry read them, his eyebrows hunched together in confusion.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

"My father." Emily whispered, "And, if my mother had it her way, me."

She slowly spun around. Her eyes were scarlet again, and they had gone almost entirely blank. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Thankfully, the nurses at the old muggle orphanage knew better than to allow that." she said softly, "And so, with great reluctance, she named me Emily, after the young handmaiden that delivered me. It was a rather on-the-spot decision. In her mind, I was always going to be Tom.

"She died after that." she whispered, her quiet voice echoing through the chamber, "Leaving me nearly nothing. Nothing more than an illustrious bloodline, and the potential to become so much more."

Harry frowned. His eyebrows his scrunched together in confusion, but his nerves prevented him from speaking. His feet felt stuck to the ground, his lips sealed shut.

"Still," muttered Emily, "That alone was more than most could have ever dreamed of. My true name is based on an anagram of the one she wished for - that is a more than satisfactory repayment, I think."

Her lips twitched upwards as Harry's eyebrows scrunched further together. The crimson colour of her eyes slowly faded back to hazel, and a trickle of mirth shined within their depths.

"Still confused, Harry?" she crooned, slashing his wand through the air, "Perhaps this might clear things up."

The crimson words spun through the air, rearranging themselves at a slow, horror-inducing rate. As the final letters fell into place, Harry felt what little was left of his hope drain out of him.

No. No, no, no -

"I am Lord Voldemort." read Emily smoothly, her head tilted slightly to the side. Her eyes flickered red, and at long last, Harry saw a hint of the malice that they held.

"Of course, I'm not a Lord." she said, walking slow circles around him once more, "But a Lady - that sounds about right, don't you think?"

Harry said nothing. Inside, it felt like everything had turned upside down. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe -

"I've been fascinated with you for quite some time." Emily's soft, smooth voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter. She watched him as she walked, her eyes still flickering, "I've wanted to see you for years. But you've seen me before . . . you recognize me. Even I did not see that coming, I confess . . ."

The echoes stopped ringing through the chamber, and for a moment, Harry heard nothing. A moment later, Emily's voice was gently wafting towards his ears.

"It can't have been the memory of capturing Hagrid." she muttered, more to herself than to him, "You wouldn't have seen my face . . ."

She fell silent. The world around him went bright and vivid, and suddenly everything felt so much more real. Harry could hear as the water rippled in the puddle by his feet. He could see the waves that splashed in the pools. He could hear the flickering fires in the eyes of the serpent statues, smell the mossy smell of algae on wet stone -

Think. You've got to think, you've got to focus -

Harry jumped as something cold shot through his jaw. His face rose slowly, Emily's hand, soft and translucent, tucked just beneath his chin. It felt strange - not quite like touching a person, but not exactly like touching a ghost, either.

Blood-like eyes bore into his own, and a softly spoken question swam from her lips.

"How did you recognize me, Harry?"

"Why do you care?" he hissed, "Why would you give a shit -"

"Because I do." her eyes flickered, her lips sliding into a thin, tight line, "Because it's important. To me, at least."

Silence rang through the chamber. Harry felt the seconds slowly trickle past. His lips refused to part, and he spoke not a word. Emily stood patiently all the while, her hand still beneath his chin.

Voldemort. She's her.

His eyes were beginning to hurt. They burnt slightly.

The Basilisk might be nearby.

Hot water welled up, and a single tear slid down his cheek. Harry grimaced.

"I could use Legilimency, you know." whispered Emily from somewhere before him, "I could look into your mind."

"You wouldn't."

She would.

He felt her hand slowly drop from his jaw. Her eyes dulled slightly, and they looked more hazel than scarlet. She took a slow step back, her fingers tracing his wand as she carefully pocketed it. Harry watched as she straightened up.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

Emily said nothing. Her expression was blank, as were her eyes. Harry could see the hint of determination that lingered behind them.

"Why?"

Emily shifted.

"Take a guess." she said, her eyes narrowed, "Surely I've taught you to do that much."

"Because you're Voldemort, then?" hissed Harry angrily, "Because that's just who you are?"

"I'm a part of her." muttered Emily, "A memory, preserved in a diary for fifty years."

Her hand slowly rose into the air. The wind around them began to billow, and something fluttered across the chamber and into her outstretched palm. Harry watched as Emily silently slid the diary open, skipping towards the very end of the book.

"August seventh," she murmured aloud, "Nineteen fifty-two. A memory from after I was made. Nearly a decade after."

She straightened up. Her eyes were flickering, scarlet to hazel and back again.

"A memory from the older me."

Her wrist twisted. The diary flew from her grasp, slamming into Harry's chest.

"This is why."

The world around him twisted, and suddenly, he was somewhere else entirely.

-(xXx)-

It was cold.

Frost lined the walls, and the bars, and the thin window pane just opposite him. He was within a room of some sort - a small one, one that hadn't been very well taken care of. In a corner sat a rather uncomfortable-looking bed, hidden beneath a tattered blanket. Beside it, the tiny window shook, threatening to bow before the might of the violent storm that raged outside.

"I was wondering when someone would find me . . ."

Harry spun around. A shriveled, middle-aged man sat in the corner. He was very thin, his features dull and lifeless. His greying hair was long and untidy, and his eyes were bright like shards of jagged ice. He was staring at something -

Someone.

Harry followed his gaze. A woman was stood just to his right. He felt his breath leave him at once.

Emily. Voldemort.

She was beautiful. She looked very much like and older Emily, what with her high cheekbones and dark hair. Her eyes were the colour of blood, not an ounce of hazel to be seen. They swirled with power, glowing just like those of the man before her.

"You can thank your dear friend." said Emily sharply, her plain black robes billowing in the breeze.

"Albus?" the man frowned before nodding to himself, "Yes, he tends to bury his fears rather than face them. It took him ever so long to muster the strength to face me . . ."

He trailed off.

"But then . . ." the man frowned again, "You're not a student anymore. I suppose you've just applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, haven't you?"

Emily's eyes narrowed. Frost coated the room further, and the violent storm that raged outside seemed to grow stronger. Harry shivered, glancing between the two with eyes as wide as galleons.

He's a Seer. But then he must be -

"I'm sure you already know, Grindelwald."

Grindelwald. Gellert fucking Grindelwald. Professor Dumbledore's greatest fear -

"I do now," the old man coughed throatily, "Which means . . . nineteen fifty-two."

He shook his head, gazing off at nothing in particular.

"So young." he whispered to himself, "So much left to learn. And yet so little has happened . . . we've barely gotten started . . . there's so much left to go . . ."

Grindelwald coughed violently, turning back to Emily. He pointed a thin finger at her, shaking slightly.

"You're like us, then?" he asked before shaking his head, "Of course you are - you've got to be."

He nodded, glancing up at her. His icy eyes were brimming with curiosity.

"A bit better, perhaps." he admitted quietly, "I think you'll surpass the both of us, in time . . . no, I know you will."

Emily's lips quirked upwards. Harry watched as she straightened up, brushing bits of snow from the hem of her robes. Something excited glowed in her eyes. It vanished as Grindelwald glanced up again.

"But you'll fall," the man murmured. His eyes, cold and harsh, flickered violently, "The greater they are, the harder they fall. You'll fall hard."

Black silk flashed through the air. Grindelwald's back pressed roughly against the cracked walls, a thin, yew wand pressed against his temple. A sickly green glow seeped from its end, just like the light Harry had seen so often in his nightmares.

"Go on." Emily's words were sharp but quiet, cutting at his ears like a dagger to the neck, "I'm very interested in hearing what you have to say."

The man laughed, gazing at the tip of her wand with amusement.

"What was he called?" he asked himself, his eyebrows scrunched together in thought, "She had a name for him, the batty one - 'Ickle Harry.'"

Harry froze. He watched with bated breath as Emily did the same, her eyes narrowing all the while. She pushed her wand forward, and the tip of it jutted against the old man's forehead.

"Harry?" she whispered softly, "Go on. Speak to me."

Grindelwald cackled. Frost coated the room, and ice slammed against the thin window pane opposite them. The storm outside grew more and more violent with every passing moment -

Grindelwald laughed again, licking his lips.

"He'll be the key -"

"To what?"

"To everything." Grindelwald leaned forward, his eyes shining like miniature moons, "The key to your life and your death, for better or worse. It's fascinating - so much better than the blood pact Albus and I made. A worthy story."

Emily's lips fell into a thin line. Slowly she turned away, her eyes closed as she pressed a finger to her skull. Her other arm shook slightly, sparks spurting from the tip of her wand. Harry winced as one of them slashed through a tile by his feet, splitting it clean in two.

Behind her, Gellert Grindelwald had not moved. He stood by the wall, gazing off at nothing in particular.

"Even if his blood stained the floor, his corpse lying in rot," muttered Grindelwald, running his fingers along his neck, "Even in his death, you will never have truly won. A battle you can not win without losing . . ."

The cell faded away, and the cold, dry air slowly faded into nothingness.

-(xXx)-

He was in the chamber again. The younger Emily stood just before him, watching him carefully. She held out her arm, and the diary flew back into her hands.

"What was that?" asked Harry quietly, still shivering from the cold.

"I told you already." muttered Emily, her expression blank, "A memory. One imbued within my diary by an older, more whole version of myself."

Harry's eyes slowly fell to the diary that sat within her grasp.

"You're a part of her, then?"

"I am."

'A memory, preserved in a dairy for fifty years . . .'

"It's the diary." Harry realized quietly, "That's how she survived -"

A part of her still lived.

Emily watched him without saying a word. Her head tilted to the side, as it always did, and she took a small step closer.

"You're more clever than I gave you credit for." she said softly, "You should show it more. It suits you, I think."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Something hot and angry welled up inside him, clawing at the insides of his chest. He cautiously eyed the end of his wand. Its tip jutted from Emily's pocket.

"I'll destroy it, then." he said determinedly, "I'll destroy the diary."

Emily slowly shook her head, the ends of her lips curving upwards.

"It's a part of me, Harry." she whispered, "Alive, just as you are. No ordinary spell will change that . . ."

The world around him shifted, and Harry found himself in the library again. A book of black and gold sat before him, whispering to him in dulcet tones.

You know the words . . . it hissed, You've just got to say them -

Bright green light flood his vision, and a woman with scarlet locks sank to the floor -

No.

"Then I'll tell him." said Harry, his voice hollow, "Dumbledore, I mean. I'll tell him about what's keeping you alive -"

He pointed at the diary within her hands.

"- about what's keeping you immortal."

Emily glanced between Harry and her diary, her eyes still a bright hazel.

"You can't."

Harry let out a bitter laugh.

"And why's that?" he asked, sneering uncharacteristically, "Because I won't ever leave this place?"

"Because you promised you wouldn't." said Riddle smoothly, "All those months ago, when you first found my diary. That was the price for helping you escape your relatives . . . or have you forgotten?"

Harry paused. His gaze met hers, and the vague inkling of a memory slowly trudged up, replaying itself before the eye of his mind -

"You must promise me, however, that what I tell you will remain with you and you alone. I would prefer my numerous secrets remained so."

"I promise." he had quickly written back, "I wouldn't tell anybody."

A strange heat formed upon his scar, as though a hot needle had been pressed against his forehead. His hand jumped to reach it, but the feeling faded away just as quickly as it had come . . .

"A magical vow." she said in her soft, smooth voice, "One that's rather difficult to break, I assure you."

Harry looked up. Emily stood less than a few feet away from him. Her translucent form grew more and more solid with every passing second. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted Ginny - it seemed to be much of the opposite for her.

She looks dead.

Emily's hazel eyes flickered, a tint of crimson flaring upon her irises.

"I've answered your question, Harry." she noted quietly, "But you haven't answered mine."

He said nothing. Emily leaned closer.

"How do you recognize me, Harry?" she asked, her fleshless fingers sliding across his jaw, "Where have you seen me before?"

The Mirror of Erised shimmered before the eye of his mind. He stood alone before it, but in the mirror stood Emily, and the witch with the curly black hair. Beside them stood two others - a woman with long scarlet hair and eyes like his own, and a man that looked almost identical to him.

Mum. Dad.

Together, the five of them stared into the mirror, smiling alongside each other.

"The Mirror of Erised."

Emily froze. The stale air of the Chamber of Secrets suddenly felt far colder than before; Harry repressed a shiver.

Emily was pacing back and forth before him, her eyes flashing hazel to scarlet and back again. She was muttering to herself, her tongue curving as she hissed in the language of the serpents -

" . . . not your face but your heart's desire -"

Slowly, the girl straightened up. Harry watched as she nodded to herself, her cheeks hollowing as her lips thinned. The cold air pressed tight against his skin as she turned to face him. She reached into the pocket of her robe, carefully pulling out -

"Your wand." she said quietly.

Confusion overtook him once more. Harry barely registered his fingers as they wrapped around the thin piece of wood. Something felt strange, something felt off -

And from the end of the chamber, just before the statue of Salazar Slytherin, Emily began to speak.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Harry watched with horror as the mouth of Slytherin's statue began to open. It slowly grew wider and wider, and the horrible feeling of being faced with something far more powerful than himself hit him with the force of a truck.

"I'm sorry."

Harry's gaze dropped back to the ground. Emily still stood just before the statue. Her eyes, blank and lifeless, glowed uncomfortably. Harry felt his palms ball into tight, crude fists.

Liar.

The chamber shook. Something was stirring within the statues mouth, its scales scratching the stone walls like nails on a chalkboard. Harry closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath -

Calm down. Just focus.

The chamber shook again. The stone floor almost buckled beneath the weight of something ginormous. Harry felt it shudder - he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Scales scraped against the floor as the legendary serpent paused before its master -

Now, you've got to go now - RUN!

Harry bolted. The sounds of his footsteps echoed through the chamber, assaulting his ears with every step he took. Something rough and coarse slammed into his knee, and Harry tumbled to the ground. His eyes fluttered open.

The wall opposite him was bathed in a horrible green glow. It was lit by the emerald fire on the opposite side of the chamber, the same flames that lit the eyes of Slytherin's statue. Harry watched as the silhouette of an enormous snake shook upon the wall, its head ducked before the shadow of a girl. Slowly, the snake's head raised. A forked tongue flickered through the air.

"Make it quick." hissed the girl softly, "Make it painless."

Harry pushed himself off the cold stone floors of the chamber. His head swiveled at breakneck speed as his eyes took in the passages that lined the walls - the shadow on the wall lunged, and Harry dove into a hole to his right -

Blood streamed down the side of his head like water droplets slowly sliding down a frost-covered window. Harry pressed a hand against his hair; when he pulled it away, it was soaked in blood.

Shit.

He squeezed himself further into the small passageway. The constant hissing of the basilisk slowly softened as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. After a few minutes he stopped. He struggled to raise his wand to his head, and eventually pressed it against the side of his skull.

"Episkey." he muttered, his voice cracking.

A strange numbing sensation overcame him, and the pain lessened. Harry quietly wiped his blood-soaked hair against the cold stone walls. His heavy, unsteady breathing rang loudly in his ears, and fear gripped him tighter than it ever had before.

I'm dead. I'm dead, I'm going to fucking die -

The hissing of the basilisk still rang in the distance. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Think. You're going to die if you don't think.

"Spiders flee before it . . ." whispered Harry, "Aragog made that pretty clear -"

There was more. Something else, something he couldn't remember -

Scales slid across stone tiles, and a low hissing noise grew louder.

Think, fucking think -

Harry balled his palms to fists, thinking as hard as he could -

"Rooster." Harry remembered aloud, "The crow of a rooster."

It's fatal to a basilisk.

Harry clambered through a hole in the wall opposite him, squeezing himself into the slightly larger passage on the other end. His heaving breathing rang within his ears as he slowly pushed himself off the floor. He felt his body relax; it seemed grateful for the sudden influx of stretching room. Harry silently pulled out his wand. He held it out, his lips beginning to part - but now he was faced with a new problem.

Harry felt his heart slowly sink into his chest.

What spell conjures a rooster?

Harry swore angrily, slamming his fist into the stone wall opposite him. Tears welled up in his eyes as his palm exploded in pain - but he waved his wand again, and the pain slowly faded away.

Focus. Stop screwing around and focus.

He didn't know. He had never heard of a spell meant to conjure a rooster - it wasn't exactly the kind of magic he researched in his free time.

That's more down Hermione's alley.

The image of Hermione Granger swam before the eye of his mind. Harry grit his teeth as the girl jumped out of her seat, her hand outstretched.

Focus.

But nothing came. There was no sudden rush of brilliance, nor a sudden rush of understanding. Only fear gripped him as the seconds faded into nothingness. The hissing noise grew louder in the distance -

Maybe I don't need a spell. Maybe I don't need an incantation at all -

Harry's eyes widened. He held his wand out before him - his hand shook slightly - and carefully pointed it into the corner of the dark passage.

Nothing happened.

Obscenities flew from Harry's lips as he slashed his wand through the air. Cracks appeared in the passage wall opposite him, and dust began to pour from above. Harry looked up, then to his wand, and back up again.

You've got to want it. You've got to really mean it -

Drops of blood fell upon the back of his hand. Harry raised his wand to his head again, quietly muttering the Healing Charm under his breath before lowering his palm once more. He raised his other hand to his eyes; they were watering slightly, both from the dust and the emotions that raged within.

He blinked furiously, his gaze returning to the dark corner of the passage. He had done this before, he would do it again -

Nonverbal magic. Magic without the words, that's all it is.

Harry raised his wand and closed his eyes. Feathers of orange flashed before the eyes of his mind, and a scarlet plume danced behind them. Thin, clawed talons slowly clattered upon cold stone floors. A small, pointed beak swam amongst his thoughts.

Something clenched within his gut, and Harry slashed his wand across his chest. There was a sudden pause - something else had joined him within the passageway - and Harry slowly opened his eyes.

An abnormally large rooster stood before him, gazing up at him with wide beady eyes. It shook slightly, flapping its wings as he stared at it with wonder. All at once it jumped into the air, its beak flying open -

"Shut up!" Harry hissed, clamping a hand around the rooster's beak, "You're going to get us both killed!"

The rooster jabbed its beak into his palm, and Harry felt a cut form just below his ring finger. It stung as he pressed his hand tighter against the rooster's beak, swearing under his breath.

"Give me a minute." he panted, "Just a minute, and then you can yell as loud as you want -"

The rooster pecked at his hand angrily. Harry swore again.

He slowly made his way down the passage. The hissing grew louder with ever step he took, and for the first time, Harry heard what the ancient serpent was saying -

"Out . . . come out . . . it shall be quick . . . it shall be painless . . ."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he once again continued down his path.

For you, maybe.

An emerald green glow bathed the passage walls. Harry could see the vague outline of a serpent effigy from where he stood; it was no doubt one of many that stood within the hall of the Chamber of Secrets.

Suddenly, the statue disappeared, the emerald green glow vanishing with it. What Harry saw was replaced by large, dark green scales. They slithered across the hall, occasionally scratching scars into the stone floor. Harry quietly reached the end of the passage, his hand still pressed against the rooster's beak. He quickly shoved it behind his back as he took in the scene before him.

The giant serpent was at the end of the hall, around where Riddle still stood. It almost seemed small as it stood before the statue of Salazar Slytherin. For the first time, Harry took in the chamber that surrounded him.

It's massive -

"Sniff him out." said a soft voice from the end of the hall, "Don't draw it out any longer."

Harry turned back. Emily was standing before the basilisk, though she wasn't facing it. Her eyes searched the hall as she avoided the serpent's gaze -

Scarlet and hazel latched onto orbs of emerald. Harry watched as her eyes flickered back and forth, just as they had been doing since he entered the chamber. His eyes narrowed as she watched him, his palms curling into fists.

Do something. Anything.

Emily slowly raised a hand, pointing a sole, dainty finger his way.

"Do it now." she whispered, looking away, "Do it fast."

Harry watched as the large, ancient creature slowly spun around. Loud, power hisses echoed through the hall, and a hint of gold shined within Harry's peripheral vision -

Harry squeezed the rooster, throwing it as hard as he could in the basilisk's direction. He quickly closed his eyes - clenching his palm where the rooster had pecked him once more - and ducked, not daring to look at the powerful serpent.

Loud, horrible screeches rang through the chamber, quickly followed by equally terrible hisses of agony. Harry heard something thrashing - a cold wind flew through the chamber - and then, moments later, something crashed loudly into the water on the sides of the hall.

Silence rang through the chamber. Harry nervously opened his eyes.

The body of the basilisk lay still. It had fallen into one of the pools just beneath the countless serpent statues; its entire body had sunk beneath the water. Harry could just barely make out the vague outline of the ancient creature -

Golden eyes swam within his mind.

You don't need to get a better look.

Emily stood at the end of the hall. She was watching him, even now. Her eyes shifted to the basilisk for a moment, and then to the rooster that lay sprawled upon the floor. She slowly approached it, raising it into the air. Harry stiffened as the chicken rose with her hands.

She's almost completely solid.

Emily's gaze turned to Harry. There was a surprised, almost shocked look on her features. A touch of excitement shined within her eyes.

"Instinct." she whispered, running her fingers through the rooster's feathers. The creature crowed softly, making no attempt to escape her grasp, "You can do it, too."

She gently let go of the rooster, watching as it lowered itself to the floor with a few wild flaps of its wings. Her eyes quickly found Harry's again; they were glowing still, but whatever blank quality they had possessed had vanished entirely. Something happy shined deep behind her eyes. Harry felt the anger inside him slowly grow.

"We're similar." she murmured softly, "We're so alike -"

Harry snarled, slashing his wand across his chest. A bright red light flashed through the air, speeding towards Emily. For a moment, it looked as though it had made contact - but the next it flew through her chest, crashing into an effigy behind her. The serpent statue split cleanly in two, sinking into the pool beneath it.

"We're nothing alike." Harry spat angrily.

Emily looked up at him. There was no mirth in her eyes any more, the excitement replaced with something else. Her eyebrows scrunched together as Harry slowly made his way into the hall. Her cheeks hollowed as she saw the blood on the side of his skull, and she stiffened slightly as he raised his wand even higher.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice cracking again, "Why would you do this? How?"

Emily frowned, her eyes tracing the tears in his robes and the blood that soaked the fine silk -

"I asked you a question." Harry grit his teeth, "Why, and how."

Emily looked away, and her lips parted as she began to speak.

"Those two fools." she said quietly, "The ones that always hung around the Malfoy boy -"

Crabbe and Goyle.

"- I used them. Their minds were frail, their magic weak. They did not prove difficult to possess."

"I used to see them outside my dorm." muttered Harry aloud as realization dawned upon him, "Looking confused. Lost."

Emily nodded stiffly.

"As for her," she continued, her head slowly turning as she faced Ginny's pale, unmoving form, "She had no connection to you. Should anyone discover what she was doing, they would not be able to trace it back to you."

What she was doing -

"You've been possessing her all this time?" asked Harry angrily.

Once again, Riddle nodded.

"I shouldn't have been able to." she admitted, "Even I shouldn't have been powerful enough - not a mere fraction of me, and not like this. But I was. I did.

"It was something about you, I think." she added, her voice little more than a whisper, "Something about you felt . . . familiar. Something about you made me feel so . . . powerful."

She paused, and her lips parted slightly as she gazed into the side of his skull.

"I could possess them so easily." a soft, cruel hiss fled from her lips, echoing around the chamber, "I'd have thought they'd need to at least be touching my diary. But it was simpler than that - the moment they strayed too close, I could take control and drown them further. It was like leading moths to a flame, really . . ."

She trailed off. Her gaze jumped to the shadows down the chamber, and she smiled faintly.

"I wanted to use McMillan, you know." she told him, "That foolish Hufflepuff boy. He seemed a much more deserving candidate. But," her head tilted, her eyes combing over the unmoving form of Ginny Weasley, "It was too great a risk. She'll have to do."

Emily slowly made her way towards Ginny. Her lips curved as she observed the young girl, and her eyes quickly moved to her own hand. She flexed it, the ends of her lips curving upwards as the emerald light of the fires failed to pass through it.

"Almost." she muttered, "But not quite."

She gently raised her head, her eyes latching onto Harry's once more. They were blank again.

"Anything else?"

"You didn't say why." Harry noted, raising his wand again, "Why'd you open the Chamber of Secrets? What was the point?"

Emily shrugged. Her eyes flicked to the diary, then back at him.

"I made that," she began, pointing at the diary, "Fifty years ago, by opening the Chamber of Secrets for the first time. To undo magic like that, even partially . . . it's rather complex. To truly be me again, everything would have to start the same way."

"Someone would've had to die because of the Chamber." whispered Harry.

Emily nodded.

"Why?"

"Magic." Emily smiled, her lips curving upwards to show bright white teeth, "A bit too advanced for you now, I'm afraid. Perhaps you'll understand it better, when you're older . . ."

Emily trailed off, inspecting her pale, flawless skin. It glowed slightly, but not from the emerald flames that lined the chamber.

"Don't stop now." she whispered, looking up again, "You've got more to ask. I can feel it. Go on."

"After New Year's," began Harry, his eyes narrowed and his hand still wrapped tightly around his wand. He kept it raised, pointing it at the girl that stood before him, "The attacks - your attacks - stopped. Why?"

Emily stiffened. A slight, barely noticeable blush tinted her cheeks. Harry watched as it faded away, leaving her skin as pale as ever.

"It was far too dangerous." she said smoothly, "Dumbledore was alert, as were the countless staff members. The Ministry of Magic was beginning to get involved, too -"

A peculiar sensation smothered the inside of his mind, whispering what Harry had already guessed -

"You're lying."

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed, and her features went blank again. The strange sensation vanished at once.

Occlumency.

"I'm not." she hissed irritably, her eyes shining, "There's just more to it - something you'd know if you'd have let me speak."

She waited, nodding when Harry's lips remained closed. Her own lips parted once more.

"There was you, too." she admitted, "I told you, didn't I? I felt stronger when I was around you. I still do, even now -"

"And that's it?"

Emily's head tilted to the side, and a cold, uncomfortable breeze swept through the chamber.

"I've grown fond of you." she whispered, "More so than I would have expected - not that it's saying much . . ."

Harry grit his teeth, and his palms balled into fists. Emily's gaze lowered, her eyes still forcefully blank.

"But it changes nothing." she finished softly, "What must be done will be. You can not change that, Harry."

Harry felt the angry, uncomfortable feeling from before swell up in his chest. He forcefully looked away from the girl within the mirror. The Chamber of Secrets stared back at him, looking just as damp and dreary as ever. Serpent effigies watched him with eyes of emerald fire. The body of the recently deceased basilisk swayed within the pool to his side. At the base of Slytherin's statue sat the dairy, looking as worn and aged as ever.

Harry glanced back at Riddle. The girl's eyes weren't on him anymore; they were gazing at the stone wall of the chamber, and the bright, uncomfortable light within them had dulled slightly. They were more hazel than red, Harry was certain.

Not that it matters. She's still her.

Emerald eyes traced the outline of a diary sprawled upon cold stone floors.

A part of her, at least.

Harry made his way across the chamber. One hand was pressed against the side of his head whilst the other wiped at blank, watery eyes. Blood slowly streamed down his left arm, but there was little Harry could do to stop it. He hadn't ever used a Healing Charm before; he was surprised he wasn't yet seeing stars.

His fingers, cold as ice, wrapped around the diary's binding. Harry felt something swirl within it - something familiar, something he felt he had known for far, far longer than the diary itself -

It doesn't matter. It's got to go. She won't if it doesn't.

Harry dropped the diary upon the floor. It splashed into a small puddle at his feet. Water soaked the pages as the diary flew open.

Harry pressed a foot against one of the corners before looking up. Emily was watching him again. Her features fell into a soft frown, and her eyes glistened. Harry felt the anger grow tighter within his chest, swirling like a tornado in the midst of a fire.

"I'm going to destroy it." he whispered, his eyes latched onto Emily's. Tears trailed down his face as he spoke, "I'm going to destroy your diary."

The girl within the mirror looked away. When she spoke, her voice lacked the silent smoothness it so often carried.

"Do you really think you can?" she muttered softly, "You've got to want it. You've got to mean it . . . can you do that?"

Harry wiped the back of his hand against his dampened cheek, glancing back at the diary. Scarlet eyes flashed before the eye of his mind, accompanied by long dark hair, high cheekbones, and delicate features. He slowly raised his wand.

"I don't know." he admitted blankly.

But if I could only use it once, it'd be now. Now, and never again.

"It won't kill me." whispered Emily, "Not her, at least. I'm not the only one out there . . ."

"It doesn't matter." said Harry, "You can die of old age. She - you told me that last school year."

Emily chuckled quietly, glancing back at him. Water shined within her eyes, and a sad smile graced her features.

"I'm not that old, Harry . . ."

"Then I'll find the others." promised Harry, gritting his teeth. Tears swam down his cheeks, dropping to the floor below, "I'll find the others, and I'll destroy them all."

Emily's head tilted to the side. She slowly stepped forward, and there was but a foot between the two. Emily's glistening eyes latched onto his, and she leaned forward -

"You're lying." she whispered softly. A single tear fell from her eyes, splashing against the stone beneath them. Harry looked away, forcing his eyes upon the diary sprawled upon the floor.

Now. Now, before it's too late.

Anger swirled within his chest. Visions of the past swirled before the eye of his mind - the Dark Lady, the Defense Professor, and the one within the mirror all stood before him, standing side by side. Scarlet eyes watched his every move, and vile, powerful magic latched onto him, clinging to him like moths to a flame -

You've got to want it . . . you've got to really mean it . . .

Harry clenched his eyes shut. Something rang in his ears, and he pointed his wand at the diary -

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bright green light flashed against his eyelids, and the world went black.