Chapter Forty Three – A Little Chat

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Forty Three – A Little Chat

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

During the final week before the Mandrakes were ready for harvesting the next Saturday - with the Mandrake Draught being ready the next day - Harry was finding himself getting quite anxious for his betrothed to be woken.

At lunch on the Saturday, Susan and Hannah came running in to the Great Hall to find Harry and Neville sitting opposite each other at the Ravenclaw table discussing quietly between themselves what they would tell 'their' three girls when they woke the next day.

Both girls quickly sat next to the boys, Susan next to Harry and Hannah next to Neville. Susan excitedly said, "Harry, you need to come and talk to Myrtle."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, of all the places we searched around there, we never searched the girl's bathroom," she said.

"Well, Neville and I wouldn't go in there, even if it's out of order. It's a girl's bathroom," said Harry. "Wait - you think the entrance is in there?"

"Yes," she said. "It occurred to me that Mrs Norris wasn't the first to be attacked - and she was attacked outside the girl's bathroom - it was Myrtle; even if it was fifty years ago.

"So, I went in there to talk to her. It took a while, but she told me the last thing she saw before she died was two big yellow eyes surrounded by green skin!"

Harry and Neville looked at each other, gathered up their things, and trotted out with the girls following.

They headed straight for the bathroom before Neville said, "Wait! I need to go and get my block! Just in case, mind."

So, they detoured towards the Gryffindor tower.

As they were returning, a very worried Ron Weasley came running the other way. When he saw them he asked, "Neville! You haven't seen Ginny, have you?"

"Errr - No. Why?" asked Neville back.

"She's disappeared!" Weasley cried. "She tried to tell me and Seamus something she claimed was important earlier. And Prat Perfect Percy chased her off. I haven't seen her since!"

"And she's not down in the Great Hall?" asked Harry.

"No; no one's seen her. Her dorm mates say she's been acting weird for ages; and - and I've not noticed," he suddenly shifted from very worried to frightened out of his wits. "Wh... what if the monster's got her!"

"Calm down, Ron," scolded Neville. "You won't be any help to her, or even have half a chance of finding her, if you flat out panic!"

"If we see her, we'll send her to the Gryffindor common room, alright?" said Hannah.

The redheaded boy nodded and said, "Yeah, thanks." And trotted off, continuing on his way.

Still using their mirrors they made their way down to the second floor corridor. Between one corner and the next, Harry stopped and, with a look of understanding on his face, said, "It's young Weasley."

"What?" asked Neville.

"Young Weasley, Ginevra - sorry - Ginny Weasley; she's doing it," he said.

"Why her?" asked Hannah.

"Because, over the course of the year, she's been looking more and more haggard," he replied. "Like she's carrying a great deal of stress. Like, maybe, she's possessed, or something."

"Well, that's hardly grounds..." started Susan.

"No," interrupted Harry. "I also remember her walking towards the second floor bathroom as if she was in a complete daze. Like she was a zombie, or something. I just know I'm right. I can't explain it any other way."

"Let's go talk to Myrtle and see what we can do from there," said Neville.

The four continued to move down to the second floor corridor.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

With a final mirrored look around the corner, the four entered the corridor with the entrance to the girl's bathroom. They walked towards the door and Hannah gave a little scream as they passed the message that was still scrawled on the wall.

Turning to look, Harry and the others saw there was now a new message underneath the first.

The Heir of Slytherin had left another message. 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever'.

Susan suddenly grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry - her skeleton..."

"I know," said Harry. "We need to talk to Myrtle."

Rushing in to the bathroom, they heard the ghost wailing in the end cubicle. With the girls leading they approached.

"Myrtle!" called Hannah. "Myrtle! We need to talk to you."

There was a few moments before there was a big splash. Suddenly a ghost of a girl in old fashioned Hogwarts robes came through the stall door.

She looked at Hannah and asked, "Yes?" Before she turned and saw Susan, Harry and Neville. "What are boys doing in here?"

"They're here at our invitation, Myrtle," said Susan. "We need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Well, you better make it quick," said the ghost with a bit of a huff. "I don't know when she'll be back." She'd sneered on the word 'she'.

"She?" asked Harry.

With another huff, Myrtle replied, "The little red haired girl in Gryffindor robes."

"She teases you, or something?" asked Harry.

"No, she comes in and hisses at the sinks over there!" she replied, pointing to a circular set of ceramic sinks in the middle of the floor away from the stalls.

"A red haired Gryffindor? The only one I know of is Ginny Weasley," said Neville. "It seems Ron was right to panic."

Harry turned to look and walked over to them, walking around them. "She hisses at them, you say?"

"Yes, hisses!" replied the ghost, affronted as if Harry dared to question if she was telling the truth or not. "It scares me," she continued in a little voice. "So I run back to my stall and hide."

"This means," said Harry, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how she's been controlling the basilisk."

"What're we going to do?" said Hannah. "Should we go straight to McGonagall?"

"Was she here a little while ago?" Susan asked the ghost.

"Yes," replied the ghost. "It must have been about fifteen minutes ago, or something."

"Give me a second," said Harry, before he ran out of the room.

He rushed over to the message and stuck the point of his left index finger into the scrawl of the second message. When he pulled his finger away, the tip was coated in a red, slightly sticky substance. When he smelled it, it gave off a faint coppery smell. Blood.

He ran back into the bathroom and said, "The message is written in blood. I doubt we have much time. Have a look around this sink-thing and see if you can see anything out of the ordinary."

The other three joined Harry at the sinks and were looking all over it. There seemed nothing out of the ordinary until Neville spotted something scratched on the side of one of the copper taps. It was a tiny snake.

"Here!" he called. "There's an engraving of a snake."

The other three gathered around and saw it.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as Neville tried to turn it.

"She hisses at it," mumbled Harry. §Chamber of Secrets§

"Woah! Harry," said Neville, stumbling back. "Give someone a warning before you do that."

"What does it sound like to you?" asked Harry.

"Hissing. Like a big snake," he replied. "I thought it must've been in here with us, now."

"Sorry," said Harry. "I didn't know. To me it sounds like normal talking but with added sibilance on the 'S's."

With a sigh, Harry stood up and the others followed. Moving back he said, "Alright, everyone. Back away. I'm going to try a few words to see if I can open it."

With the others standing away behind him, Harry focussed on the snake engraving. He was running through his mind what words to try when they were interrupted.

Echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified. "All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."

Harry wheeled around to stare at the others.

"Not another attack? Not now?" asked Susan.

"No, I think Mister Weasley has finally alerted the staff his sister is missing," replied Harry. "Or someone else has seen the message outside."

"What'll we do?" asked Hannah. "Go back to our dormitories?"

Frowning, he replied, "No. I'm going to continue to try and get this hidden entrance, if that's what it is, open." Looking at the others he said, "Hannah, Susan, please go to the staff room and let Acting Headmistress McGonagall know where we are; and why.

"Neville, I'm going to get this entrance open. When I do, are you still willing to follow me down?"

Bracing himself up, the other boy replied. "I meant what I said, Harry. Where a Potter goes, a Longbottom will be with him."

"Be safe!" said Hannah, before the two girls ran out of the bathroom.

"Good man," said Harry to Neville. He then reached into his bookbag and pulled out his mirrored sunglasses. Using a spare scrap of parchment he copied the scrap into a matching pair of glasses, and offered them to Neville.

"I don't know how well they're going to work, but I think they may stop the basilisk from killing you," said Harry. "However, you will probably still end up petrified."

Neville nodded and accepted the glasses.

Harry turned back to the sinks and started calling words, §Entrance - entry - move - secret - secrets - sesame - open...§

Except words weren't what he heard. He was making a strange hissing sound. On the hiss for open, the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Harry heard Neville gasp. He already knew what he was going to do.

"I'm going down there," said Harry.

He couldn't not go; not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber; not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that the Weasley girl might be alive.

"We are going down there," said Neville.

Harry dropped his wand into his hand and lowered himself slowly into the pipe. With a muttered, "Lumos!" he let go.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Neville, thudding slightly at the curves.

Just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out. He shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.

Harry stood aside as Neville came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," said Neville, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

Harry cast a quick Cleaning Charm on them both.

"Thanks, Harry," muttered Neville, not really paying attention.

"Come on," Harry said.

With a call of "Lumos!" from Neville, the two boys advanced down the stone tunnel, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wand light.

"Remember," Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as he stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones.

Trying very hard not to imagine what the Weasley girl might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Harry - there's something up there…" said Neville hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder.

They froze, watching. Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed, glancing back.

Harry edged forward, his wand held high.

The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

"Blimey," said Neville, weakly.

"Yeah," said Harry, his heart beating in his chest. "That's big."

After looking at it for a few moments more, Harry said, "Come on. We need to find the girl." And continued to lead the way.

The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling, unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did.

And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Harry approached with Neville right behind, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

§Open,§ said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight. The boys, both shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rising to support a ceiling lost in darkness; casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was the girl?

Cancelling the Light Charm, Harry quietly said, "I think there might soon be a need for the glasses and roosters, Nev. Hold the block ready in your left hand, just in case." Following his own advice he donned his glasses and reached in to his own bag to draw out the block of wood, shifting it to his left hand.

Then he moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls.

He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above. It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

Harry indicated the girl to Neville. Staying alert, the two hurried to the girl. Neville resheathed his wand, knelt and shook the girl's shoulders; then turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't petrified.

"Ginny, please wake up," Neville muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry spun around with his wand at the ready as Neville did the same from his kneeling position; his wand shooting from his holster.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window.

"I don't recognise you," said Harry. "But, I suspect. Slytherin robes, mid century styling, Prefect badge. Tom Marvolo Riddle, right?"

"Ah! I see you've heard of me," said the boy.

"What do you mean, she won't wake?" asked Harry, changing the subject. "She's not dead, is she?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But, only just."

Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood in his Slytherin uniform, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. And he had the Weasley girl's wand in his hand.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there - but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"Bullshit," said Harry. "Memories are not interactive."

Riddle smiled back. "Quite. No, it is far more than the memories you probably know as misty silver strands. This is far more."

"Well, do get on with it," drawled Harry. "I'd like to get back in time for dinner."

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," said Harry, losing patience, "How did Miss Weasley get like this?"

"How did Ginny get like this?" he asked slowly. "Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story..."

"Just the executive summary will do, then," Harry interrupted.

Ignoring him, Riddle continued, "I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes. How her brothers tease her. How she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books. How..." Riddle's eyes glinted "... How she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her..."

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic and kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom," he mimicked. "I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in. It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket." Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So, Ginny poured out her soul to me. And, her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted - I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Haven't you guessed, yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on five Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"Wrong," said Harry. "Only two muggleborns. The last three are all Heirs of some very powerful Houses. Two of them are purebloods."

"I know," said Riddle, a little angrily. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing, at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries. Far more interesting, they became. Dear Tom," he recited in a little girl's voice, watching Harry's stoic face, "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, l can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself; I think he suspects me. There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad. I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"

Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms. He heard Neville growl a little. At least Riddle seemed to be ignoring him.

"And, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over where the lightning scar once sat on Harry's forehead, and his expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. And now I have."

"When I had Hagrid expelled, Dumbledore kept an annoyingly close watch on me afterwards," said Riddle carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber, again, while I was still at school. But, I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages. So that, one day - with luck - I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazaar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," said Harry. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In only a few more hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready to be brewed and everyone who was petrified will be all right again."

"Haven't you already guessed?" asked Riddle quietly. "Killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore. For many months now, my new target has been - you."

Harry stared at him.

"I knew what I must do. It was clear, to me, you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue.

"So, I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But, there isn't much life left in her now. She put too much into the diary - into me. Enough to let me leave its pages, at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"I don't care," Harry spat.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "How is it that you, a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent, managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

"You want questions answered; but, I want one answered first," said Harry slowly. "What is the diary - really?"

Riddle just smiled and said, "I suppose I can tell you. After all, you and your friend - like little Ginny - will not be leaving this Chamber, ever again. It's called a horcrux, Harry."

"Thank you," Harry said. "To answer your first question, no one really knows. It is suspected my mother performed an illegal blood ritual, which was powered up by the sacrifice of her life. Then, when you tried to kill me, your curse backfired on you, killing you."

Before Riddle could say anything else, Harry said, "My turn. How many of these horcruxes did you plan on making?"

"Seven," said Riddle, proudly. "The most powerful number in magic, for the most powerful wizard in the world."

"Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore," drawled Harry. "Everyone says so. Even when you were at the height of your powers, you didn't dare try to attack him directly. On the few occasions he was able to find you, you fled in terror."

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle; wishing, rather than believing, it to be true.

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size.

Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

Fawkes appeared, piping his weird music to the vaulted ceiling. Within his talons he was gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix," said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes?" breathed Harry, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently

"And that..." said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "... is the old school Sorting Hat."

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry's feet.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

Harry didn't answer. He didn't see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but his courage was mounting.

"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

"Nope," replied Harry. "I know everything I need to know now. You've no longer anything to bargain with."

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now - there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all.

"Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike. But, after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazaar Slytherin..."

"You're not," interrupted Harry.

"What?" stuttered Riddle, thrown off balance.

"I said, you're not," replied Harry.

"Not what?" asked Riddle, annoyed.

"You are neither a Lord nor the Heir of Slytherin," replied Harry.

Angrily Riddle snarled, "I did my research, Potter. I traced my bloodline all the way back."

"I don't doubt it," shrugged Harry. "However, you got yourself dead. By law and by magic the Heirship passed on. You know this." With a smirk of his own, he asked, "Do you want to know to whom?"

Riddle just stood there, almost trembling in rage. After a few moments he snarled, "Yes!"

After a few moments hesitation, enjoying Riddle's ire, Harry smirked, "Me."

Riddle glared back. His face, a mask of fury. Without another word, he strode away to stop between the high pillars and looked up into the stone face of Salazaar Slytherin, high above in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed, §Speak to me, Slytherin; greatest of the Hogwarts Four.§

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horror-struck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

"Here it comes, Neville," he said to the other boy, where he kneeled next to the girl. "The basilisk!"

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/