Summary of the previous chapter:

The brief period of quiet is shattered when Myrtle tears Harry from sleep to tell him that the girl has returned to the bathroom. Upon investigation, Harry finds Ginny Weasley in the process of putting an ominous message on the wall. Not sure what to make of the situation and convinced that Ginny is in danger, he spontaneously follows her down a slide the girl has made appear behind a bathroom sink by speaking Parseltongue.

Meanwhile, Myrtle alarms Harry's friend and, at Hermione's order, also Professor Snape (who she is surprised to find with a woman in his bed). Both rush to the bathroom in order to rescue Harry, as the professor is convinced he's in grave danger after hearing about Tom Riddle's diary.

The Heir of Slytherin

Harry and Tom soon found themselves in front of a huge, round door that was elaborately decorated with seven golden snakes. It almost looked like the door to a money vault, just way bigger. It had no handle or anything.

"Well, if this leads to Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber, I guess this only opens to a command in Parseltongue, just like the sink did," ventured Tom, and Harry nodded.

"Open!" he hissed, just like Ginny had done, hoping that the door wasn't password-protected or anything. Almost to his surprise, it did. Harry stepped through the door which fell shut again behind him and looked around. To his left and his right stretched a long basin of water from which a row of huge carved snake statues rose, flanking a pathway that led to another, much bigger underground chamber. Though probably natural in origin, it had Salazar's magical handiwork all over it: Strong pillars with wood carvings rose to the ceiling – and right in front of them loomed a gigantic statue of a wizard that bore some resemblance to portraits of Salazar Slytherin Harry had seen in the castle. It too, seemed to rise out of a pond of water. There was an eerie, greenish light in the chamber, though he couldn't say from what source.

"He really had a thing for snakes," murmured Tom. "I think one might even call it an obsession."

"And a really big ego …" said Harry, staring at the totally overblown memento the wizard had created of his own image. He was so overwhelmed by the statue that he failed to notice the tiny figure of the girl who lay unmoving at the edge of the water until Tom called his attention to her.

"Oh my god, is she dead?" Harry immediately rushed to where she had collapsed. "Ginny? Ginny - wake up!"

"She won't," said Tom softly, his voice sounding very different all of a sudden. As if it was coming from outside his head, Harry realized, befuddled.

Confused, he looked up and saw him leaning against the nearest pillar. Wait – what? "Tom?!" Harry stared disbelievingly at the boy he'd only seen face to face once before – when he'd been inside the diary.

"No, Harry, that's not me!" cried the Tom inside his head, who sounded alarmed and scared. "That's the Riddle from the diary! How the hell did he get out of his book? Is this a hallucination?"

A weird, misty light shone around him, as if he was not quite solid, supporting Tom's guess.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked, not at all comprehending how there could be two real Tom's – though 'real' seemed to be a questionable choice of adjective in either case.

"No. I'm what I said to you before: a memory, preserved in the diary for fifty years." Riddle pointed to where the motionless figure of Ginny lay. Next to her, as if it had fallen out of her hands, was the familiar leather-bound diary.

"You have to help me, Tom," said Harry, deciding that finding out what was wrong with Ginny was more important now than finding out how Riddle had managed to get a body, and figuring out how he would live with two Toms in his life.

Harry really wished he knew how to cast a diagnostic charm as he bent over Ginny's body. Why the heck didn't they teach magical First Aid first thing in DADA?

"Just what is wrong with her?" he asked, feeling helpless. "She's breathing, but only just."

"Yes," agreed Riddle, coming nearer. "But she won't be breathing for much longer."

"What?" Shocked at the casualness in Riddle's voice when uttering the statement, Harry looked up.

"Harry, I don't think he's going to help us …" said Tom, who, contrary to Riddle, sounded really distressed by now. "I'm not sure what's happening, but something's very wrong! Don't you feel it too? Seeing him, hearing him talk, it's almost like it was with Quirrell – it hurts!"

Tom was right, Harry realized. His scar was hurting, but he had been so flooded with adrenalin that he hadn't consciously noticed before. He questioningly looked up at Riddle, who looked so much like the boy he had seen in the Mirror of Erised, but, as he realized with shock, exuded none of the warmth Harry had felt back then. This version of his friend had a cold and calculating expression on his face, as if he was just waiting for Ginny to take her last breath.

"He's evil, Harry," murmured Tom. "I told you. I can feel it."

"You possessed her!" said Harry to Riddle, as it suddenly dawned on him why Ginny had been behaving in such a peculiar manner. "You somehow controlled her through the diary!" He picked up the harmless looking book lying next to her body.

"Aren't you a clever boy," said Riddle with false appreciation, then raised his hand and wandlessly disarmed Harry, who cursed himself for his own carelessness. He just hadn't perceived Riddle as a danger until half a minute ago and was still struggling with the notion. There was no way his Tom could be a reincarnation of this Riddle. Maybe he was an evil twin?

"Yes, it was me," Riddle confirmed Harry's fears, looking very pleased with himself. "I am the Heir of Slytherin! I control his serpent and make sure that Salazar's legacy lives on as his noble work is continued!"

"Not any longer!" Harry shouted back, feeling rage now, despite his helplessness. How dare he stand there and wear Tom's face when he was nothing like him? It felt like a cruel joke, the worst possible insult. "The basilisk is gone! Haven't you noticed yet?"

That gave Riddle pause. "What are you saying?" he asked, frowning. "How do you even know about the basilisk?"

"She's my friend! I know her better than you do."

"You're lying!"

Harry laughed. "Call her, then! Come on, do it, if you think you're really still in control!"

"Harry!" winced Tom. "He has your wand! For all we know, he might be able to actually wield it! Don't provoke him."

"That's not what you said to me when we were facing Quirrell. I refuse to back down to a mere memory that somehow emerged from a diary. He isn't even real." Harry was demonstrating a bit more bravado than he actually felt. The fact was that Riddle looked real enough, and he seemed to get more solid by the minute.

Riddle looked undecided for a moment, as if he didn't dare put any stock in Harry's outrageous claim by even reacting to the taunt. But the slight concern that Harry had seen creep into his eyes probably won out.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!" Riddle called out grandiloquently and turned expectantly to the statue behind him. Did he honestly expect his stony likeness to answer?

But much to Harry's and Tom's surprise, the mouth of the statue opened, forming a large hole, and Tom weakly noted that they now had a good idea about where Scilla's nest had been. Thankfully, nothing else happened – no brother or sister snake came out.

Riddle seemed confused. "How's that possible?" he asked, turning his attention back to Harry. "What have you done to my basilisk?"

"Your basilisk?" Harry scoffed. "You never owned her! Her name is Scilla, and she introduced herself to me as 'Serpent of Slytherin', not 'Serpent of Tom Riddle', which, by the way, would sound ridiculous."

"So you have spoken to her?" Riddle had as much trouble accepting the fact as Harry had accepting that he had been deceived by the likeness of his best friend.

"Many times! You've not been treating her well. All it took to win her loyalty was some food and sunshine."

Riddle's mouth dropped open at that. "You released her?" he asked incredulously. "Are you insane? Who knows who she kills and attacks with on one to direct her!"

"He's one to talk about insanity!" said Tom, sounding miserable. Harry thought he was hurting more than he let on. They needed to get away from here, away from Riddle, but how? And they couldn't leave Ginny behind!

Arguing with Riddle didn't seem to get them any further, but there was little else Harry could do at the moment but try and get some answers. "What – are you concerned about people dying? People other than Muggleborns, that is? Why do you hate them so much? You're not even a pure-blood yourself, so don't give me any bullshit about blood purity!"

Riddle smiled condescendingly. "It has never been about the blood, Harry. It's all about power. For the longest time now, Dumbledore has been in charge of Hogwarts, a Muggle lover, who opened the school to those not born into the wizarding world. What do you think is going to happen if they continue ending up petrified or dead? Who do you think they're going to blame for not protecting them? Greatest wizard of all time, and he can't even keep his school safe!"

Harry blanched a bit at hearing Riddle maligning the headmaster in a way he had heard Tom rail against him many times before. Now that he had seen that Riddle was fundamentally different from Tom, he didn't want there to be any resemblance between them.

"No one is dead," he said defiantly. "They're only petrified, and as soon as the mandrakes are ripe, they will be revived. We have the basilisk on our side, so the students are safe now. You've achieved nothing!"

"And that's where you're wrong, Harry Potter!" The creepy smile was back on Riddle's face. "Killing Mudbloods has never been my primary concern. You are!"

"Why should I be any of your concerns?" Harry was puzzled. Riddle had never given any indication of knowing who Harry Potter was, even after Harry had let slip his true name.

"Ginny told me all about you, of course," said Riddle. "Have you forgotten how smitten she was with you? You were all she could talk about… your green eyes, your messy hair … The scar on your forehead is a dead give-away. And who else would have known immediately who I was? I've been wanting to speak to you again for quite some time, but you stopped writing to me."

"Because I felt you were draining me! You really were!"

"It wasn't even my intent. I wanted to get to know you. You were so intriguing."

That didn't make any sense. "Why?"

"Because you are a mystery that I long to solve. I still have no idea what's so special about you, and yet you seem to have defeated me twice now. How is that possible?"

Harry could only stare at Riddle in confusion. He had never defeated him. He had never even met Riddle while he was alive. Harry really wished Tom could help him out, but he was in a kind of shock at seeing his own twin spit vitriol and exude such cold and hatred.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said to Riddle.

"See? You're not even that intelligent. I have no idea what Ginny saw in you."

"Ginny doesn't even know me. I hardly ever spoke to her."

"But she was such a fan of yours! Harry this and Harry that – she wouldn't stop talking about you. What a hero you were. How much she longed for you to notice her! Ginny has been writing into the diary for months, pouring all her heart and soul into it. And I wrote back. So sympathetic, so patient, so willing to listen to all her inane woes." He snorted, then mimicked in an artificial high voice: 'You are so understanding, Tom!' 'You give such great advice, Tom!' 'It's like having a best friend I can carry in my pocket!' I was always able to charm, manipulate and influence people. And Ginny was easy to charm, influence and manipulate. Her soul was what I wanted. It nourished me, gave me strength, and power."

"She fought you!" shouted Harry in outrage. Riddle was so smug and so full of himself, it was sickening. "She saw right through you! That's why she tried to get rid of the diary!"

Riddle brushed it aside. "Yes, she did have her little moment of rebellion. But the hold I had on her was too strong. She needed me back, and therefore she moved heaven and hell to take the diary from you. Even if she had to create a diversion in Potions class to steal Polyjuice potion from her most feared Professor and to slip into the snake's dorm to search your trunk for it."

Inside of his head, his Tom groaned in pain. "He's rotten, Harry! How can he be me and be so evil? You have to get us out of here before he gets any stronger."

"He's still feeding on his link to her, isn't he?" asked Harry, who now began to feel desperate as well. How could he defeat a memory? He wouldn't even know what to do if he had his wand. Maybe if he destroyed the book?

"I'm glad though that it was you who briefly got his hands on my diary, Harry," said Riddle gloatingly, not at all concerned that Harry held it in his hands again just now. "Of all the people who could have found it, it was you! The person I wanted to meet most of all…"

"You still haven't told me why. What am I to you?"

"You are my worst enemy. How is it even possible that you, as a mere baby, defeated the greatest wizard of his time, with no special talent at all? How is it possible that you, as an eleven year old, met a much stronger and competent wizard again, and yet walked away alive! How, Harry? How did you do it?"

"What do you care? Voldemort came to power long after you were gone! How do you even know about him?"

Riddle barked a laugh that was totally devoid of humour. "You're still not getting it, are you? Voldemort is my past, my present and my future!"

He raised Harry's wand and, in red bleeding letters, slashed his name into the air. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.

Then, at another command of his wand, the letters rearranged themselves to form a message that turned Harry's world upside down and sent it spinning on its axis:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"No …" Harry gasped, staring at the flaming letters in utter shock. He was too numb to feel anything but denial. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be true.

"NO!" shouted Tom like an echo inside his head, sharing his horror and refusal to accept what was right in front of their eyes. "No! He's not me! I'm not Voldemort! Don't you dare believe him, Harry, he's a liar and a manipulator, and he's evil!"

Harry's mind was racing. It could be coincidence, right? It was nothing but a play on words. But Tom Marvolo Riddle was Slytherin's heir, there was no doubt of that. He had set Scilla on Myrtle in 1943 and blamed an innocent for it. He had manipulated Ginny, taken control of her and used her and Scilla to harm even more people. He was definitely a dark and powerful wizard – someone who had vanished from the wizarding world not long after graduation. They had believed him to be dead. Then Voldemort had appeared and had eventually attacked Harry's family. He died when casting the spell that was supposed to rip Harry's soul out of his body and it had backfired on him. And Harry had ended up with another soul inside his mind.

Riddle laughed. "Does that shock you, Harry? Does it shock you that after defeating me twice, you are facing me again? I've made myself immortal. You won't defeat me a third time." He pointed to Ginny. "Any moment now, she will take her last breath. And then all her life energy will be fully mine, and her sacrifice will bring me back to life for good."

He was creating a solid body for himself by stealing someone else's life energy, Harry realized with horror. Just like he had planned to restore himself by stealing Quirrell's. Unfortunately this time, it seemed like he was succeeding.

"No!" shouted Tom again. "I don't care if he's me, but I won't stand for it! No sacrificing unicorns and babies, that's what we promised, Harry, and no sacrificing innocent first years either! Destroy the book, Harry, he's still connected with it, I can feel it!"

Harry stared at the book in his hands that felt weirdly alive. Would Riddle vanish if the diary was destroyed? But it had so many protective spells on it – how was he supposed to destroy it? And what would it do to Tom?

"To hell with it, Harry! I don't care! He's trying to get me too, the book is calling out to me, wanting me to save it! But it's Ginny that needs saving, not the dammed diary. He mustn't be allowed to return to life. If that's what became of me, I regret ever being born! If that's what I might become, I'd rather die now! Rip it, Harry! Do it!"

But before he could decide anything at all, Harry suddenly felt an intense, blinding pain in his scar, as if somebody had driven a knife right through his head. The diary, as if sensing his intentions, seemed to grow hot in his hands. Then it started to glow, like it had done before it had pulled Harry into the memory. Tom screamed in agony, probably feeling the searing pain as well. Harry wanted to put his hands on his ears, which felt as if they were bleeding with the screaming inside his head, but he was afraid to let go of the diary. The glow intensified as Tom's screams grew shriller.

Riddle suddenly staggered and stumbled, looking at Harry with an expression of utter shock. "What are you doing?" he asked Harry, terrified, as he fell to his knees.

Harry had no idea, he was barely able to think.

Riddle stretched out his hands, desperately trying to reach the diary and take it from Harry, but it seemed like he was too weak to move. His face was one of pure panic now. "Don't!" he croaked. It was probably meant to be a scream, too, but the power of screaming was all with Tom inside Harry's head. It reached a crescendo, at which multiple things happened simultaneously: The diary suddenly stopped glowing, Ginny Weasley gasped for breath, Riddle started pulsating, and Harry fell unconscious again.