Chapter 15 - The Greatest Wizards

"What do you think's going to happen now?" Luna asked, worry creeping into her voice as they sat beneath the open sky, the summer heat warming the grass around them.

"With Dumbledore gone…" Vincent stared up at the clouds, expression grim. "There's a real chance Hogwarts could close."

He let out a slow breath. Ever since his talk with Dumbledore, he'd been looking forward to his time at Hogwarts—finally, a place he could belong. Now? Now it all felt like it was slipping away.

"But if we catch the culprit, things might return to normal. Maybe."

"What about telling the teachers what you've discovered?" Luna asked, picking at blades of grass and twining them between her fingers.

"If I told someone about the diary now, they either wouldn't believe me or wouldn't act—there's no evidence to go on," Vincent said, frustration tightening in his chest. "And if the culprit finds out the staff is onto them, they'll go into hiding. Then we lose our only shot."

"…Do you really believe that?" she asked softly.

Vincent exhaled. Long. Quiet.

"…I don't know." He glanced down at his hands. "Back in London, the dangers made more sense—people, motives, desperation. Here? I'm playing blind. I don't know if what I'm doing is right. I just don't want to mess this up."

Luna said nothing. Instead, she folded the grass she'd been fiddling with into the shape of a butterfly. With a soft puff of air, she sent it fluttering into the breeze, where it danced with the wind until it disappeared into the sunlit sky.

Vincent blinked at it, then decided to change the subject.

"So… that magazine you read every day—what's that about?"

"Oh, this?" Luna held up her upside-down magazine. The Quibbler. "My father publishes it. He sends me each new edition. It reports things people call 'unusual.' See here?" She pointed to an illustration. "This one's about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. I told you about it, remember?"

Vincent chuckled, leaning over to read the page.

Even with everything going wrong in the world, moments like these—simple, peaceful, filled with harmless nonsense—let him breathe. He reached out and gave Luna a small pat on the head.

She didn't even pause in her explanation, now rambling about the Blibbering Humdinger with total sincerity.

And for a little while, everything felt okay.

...

"How hard is it to find a single bloody spider?" Ron groaned, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Maybe you're just too scared to look properly," Vincent said without looking up, calmly stirring his potion. "Seamus—don't add that."

Seamus froze, the ingredient jar in his hand tilting dangerously. "What? Why not?"

"If you don't want to blow yourself up again, I suggest you read the instructions—carefully," Vincent replied coolly.

Seamus paled and immediately buried his nose back into the textbook, eyes darting over every line.

From behind them, a drawling voice broke the tension.

"I'm surprised the Mudbloods haven't packed up and fled by now," Malfoy sneered. "Five Galleons says the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger—"

Vincent's stirring stopped.

He turned slowly to face Malfoy, who was smirking with smug satisfaction.

"What do you want, you filthy little—"

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy."

The words came out low and cold. Something in Vincent's tone made the entire class go silent. Even Malfoy flinched.

"You want to bet?" Vincent went on, golden eyes locked onto Malfoy's. "Fine. Let's make it fifty Galleons that no one dies."

Malfoy's smirk faltered. "Y-you—"

"What?" Vincent stepped closer, his voice still deceptively calm. "All talk and no bite?"

Malfoy bristled. "Fine then! Just don't cry to me when you lose, Wong."

"Right back at you."

The bell rang before it could escalate further. Vincent turned away as if the conversation had already been discarded.

"Here's the completed swelling solution, Professor," he said, handing over a vial to Snape.

Snape examined it, face unreadable. "Adequate. I will now escort you all to Herbology. Anyone who dawdles will be punished. And you will wish it was the monster who caught you instead of me."

The class hurried to gather their things. As they walked, Ron leaned toward Harry.

"Does Vincent look a little… stressed to you?"

Harry's gaze lingered on the back of their friend.

"...I think maybe he feels responsible. Like it's his fault things have gotten this far."

Ron blinked. "What? That's ridiculous. Why would he think that?"

"Ever since Vincent got here, he's been buried in books—researching, studying. Not just for classes, but about Magic in general. Its secrets. Its dangers," Harry said quietly.

"And that's weird?" Ron asked, confused. "Hermione does the same thing."

"Yeah, but for him, it's different." Harry glanced at Ron. "He wasn't going to school before this. He was—well, a vigilante, right?"

Ron frowned. "...So?"

"I think that maybe, Vincent believes he spent too much time enjoying life as a student. Maybe he thinks if he spent more time investigating instead of adjusting to school life, things might've been different."

Ron's face twisted. "That's… kind of stupid."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "...But it might be what he's thinking anyway."

They walked on in silence, following behind Vincent, who didn't turn around once.

Professor Sprout set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Vincent had his arms full of withered stalks when he noticed a Hufflepuff boy called Ernie Macmillan apologizing to Harry about something. Vincent didn't stick around though as he noticed Ron starting to shiver.

"V-Vince, I found the spiders," he trembled before rushing off.

Vincent sighed at Ron's actions before looking at the abnormally large spider scuttling across the other side of the glass in an abnormally straight line. If they kept going in this direction, then the place they would end up in would be...

"The Forbidden Forest," Vincent muttered looking at the tall trees in the distance.

The rest of the day involved having to listen to Lockhart's claims of the danger passing with Hagrid's arrest. Vincent had to control himself from stuffing an Animorph potion down his throat.

"I wonder what would happen to a human who drank it?" Vincent thought. Lockhart glanced towards Vincent and started shivering at his glare before proceeding with his lesson.

Vincent was interrupted in his thoughts when Harry threw a note, landing on his table.

'Let's do it tonight' it said. Vincent gave a nod towards Harry while Ron groaned. The three of them looked at the empty seat next to them, feeling their resolve strengthening. Ron sighed before nodding.

…

Sneaking out of the castle was far more difficult then they thought. After several hours of exploding snap with Fred and George, they were finally able to leave just after midnight. It took another hour to dodge all the teachers patrolling the corridors before they managed to arrive at Hagrid's hut, now dim and dark with him gone.

"Invisibility cloaks are good," Vincent muttered while leading Fang out, "but fitting three near teens under it is a bit much."

"Maybe we won't find anything," Ron said hopefully, "Maybe the spiders were heading in another direction. Oh."

Ron's hope faded away as he spotted the spiders trailing on the ground to the forest.

"Lumos," Harry muttered with light coming out of his wand. He then started the walk with Fang trailing behind, "Come on Fang, we're going for a walk."

"Well come on, we don't have all night," Vincent said to a frozen Ron sounding almost cheerful, scaring Ron slightly.

"Why are you so happy?" Ron grumbled as they trudged right through, making sure to not lose sight of the trail.

"I've never been in a forest before, let alone a magical one," Vincent said looking around.

"Maybe you would react differently if you knew that half the thing's living here were trying to kill you," Ron mumbled.

"That's what makes it even more interesting," Ron just groaned.

After half an hour of following the spiders, guided by Harry's light, they came to a small clearing covered by thick trees that nearly blocked the moonlight. The spiders also scuttled off leaving the three of them alone with Fang.

"Well what now?" Harry began before Fang started barking at a large object moving towards them, snapping branches in it's way.

"Oh, no," said Ron, "Oh, no, oh, no, oh —"

"Shut up," said Harry frantically, "it'll hear you."

"Hear me?" said Ron in an unnaturally high voice. "It's already heard Fang!"

Vincent pulled out his rods from his sheath, for some reason it seemed to glow a small silver colour under the moonlight. There was a strange rumbling noise and then silence.

"What d'you think it's doing?" said Harry.

"Probably getting ready to pounce," said Ron.

"Could be friendly," Vincent said holding his slightly glowing rods out.

They waited, shivering, hardly daring to move.

"D'you think it's gone?" Harry whispered.

"Dunno—"

Then, to their right, came a sudden blaze of light, so bright in the darkness that the three of them flung up their hands to shield their eyes. Fang yelped and tried to run, but got lodged in a tangleof thorns and yelped even louder.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, his voice breaking with relief "Vince, it's our car!"

"What?!"

"Come on!"

Vincent just looked at the wild-looking car and couldn't help but break a smile, this was the very thing that got him to Hogwarts in the first place after all. It was all scratched up with mud covering the sides and thick branches wrapping around certain parts. It certainly had gotten wild since the last time he saw it.

"The trails gone," Harry said looking around while Ron turned extremely pale.

"Uh, Ron?" Vincent waved a hand over Ron's face.

He soon heard clicking sounds coming from behind.

"Harry move!" Vincent yelled as he narrowly missed getting snagged.

Harry wasn't so lucky. Something grabbed him by the leg before lifting him up. Vincent quickly threw a rod which collided with the furry like-limb. The moment of collision created a small boom sound followed by a gust of wind accompanied by the screech of the creature as it dropped Harry. Vincent caught the rod, the silver glow gone, and slid it in his sheath and back out. When it came out, it regained its silver light.

"Spiders," Vincent mumbled as they surrounded them, "just great."

Spiders. Not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves below. Spiders the size of carthorses,eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy, gigantic. He heard a yell from behind and cursed. He turned to see Ron being carried off by one of the spiders, looking like he was going to faint at any moment.

"Dang it," Vincent said with gritted teeth before running after with Harry and Fang right behind him.

He was about to throw his rod when Harry grabbed his arm, "Wait, I think they're taking us somewhere."

Vincent took a glance at the pale, yet unharmed Ron and nodded before following in pursuit. They were moving into the very heart of the forest. After a long time of chasing Ron, he was dropped off in a large open clearing. They had reached the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene Ron had ever laid eyes on to the point where he wanted nothing more than for this to be a nightmare.

"Ron, don't you dare faint now," Vincent muttered as he held his rods at the ready while Harry held his wand up.

"Aragog!" spiders started gathering around them, "Aragog!"

And from the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was milky white. He was blind.

"What is it?" he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.

"Men," clicked a spider with a broken limb, it was probably the one that Vincent attacked, "Is it Hagrid?" said Aragog, moving closer, his eight milky eyes wandering vaguely. "Strangers," clicked the spider who had brought Ron.

"Kill them," clicked Aragog fretfully, "I was sleeping..."

"We're friends of Hagrid's," Harry shouted.

"Hagrid's?" all the spiders started chittering, "Hagrid has never sent anyone into our hollow before, why are you here?"

"Hagrid has been taken to Azkaban, being suspected in opening the Chamber of Secrets," Vincent said while readying himself for any attack that might come.

"But that was many years ago," Aragog said, his voice rasping with age and unease. "Years and years. I remember it clearly. That was when they made Hagrid leave the school. They believed I was the monster said to dwell within the Chamber of Secrets. They thought Hagrid had opened it… and set me loose."

His many legs shifted slightly, clicking against the dirt as he grew agitated.

"I was not born in the castle," he clicked sharply. "I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid—when I was still an egg. Hagrid was just a boy then, but he cared for me. He hid me in a cupboard, fed me scraps from the kitchens… looked after me when no one else would."

Aragog paused, his tone softening for a moment.

"Hagrid is a good man. A dear friend. When I was discovered—when they blamed me for the girl's death—he protected me. Risked everything to save me. He carried me out into this forest, gave me freedom… and later, even found me a mate. Mosag. Everything you see here, my children, my home—it's all because of Hagrid's kindness."

His fangs clicked together solemnly.

"I have never killed a human," Aragog croaked. "It would have been my instinct… but out of respect for Hagrid, I never once raised a fang against your kind."

He shifted again, more slowly this time.

"The girl they said I killed—her body was found in a bathroom. But I had never even seen the castle outside my cupboard. Our kind prefer the dark. The quiet. We do not wander."

"What do you know of Tom Riddle?" Vincent asked.

"Tom Riddle?" Aragog paused, "Yes, I remember that boy. He's the one that had gotten Hagrid expelled, the one who caused me to flee to the forest. Other than that, I know nothing."

"Harry, Vince, I think we should go," Ron said, making the boys look around to see the spiders slowly closing in on them.

"We'll just go, then," Harry called desperately to Aragog, hearing leaves rustling behind him.

"Go?" said Aragog slowly, "I think not."

"But — but —"

"My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them freshmeat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friend of Hagrid."

"Crap, guys duck!" Vincent threw a transparent vial at the wall of spiders before tackling both Ron and Harry to the ground.

A booming sound went off, giving a blast of energy that sent spiders flying everywhere chittering in confusion. Both Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed as Vincent urged them to follow. However, that only brought them a few seconds of time before they started crawling back.

"There's too many!" Vincent cursed before a bright flash of light appeared in front of him.

The car came thumbing down into the hollow, knocking aside many spiders along the way. It screeched to a halt in front of the boys before opening the doors.

"In now!" Harry yelled while edging Fang in, Ron was all too eager to get away, "Vince, come on!"

"Coming!" Vincent said as he threw his glowing rods at some spiders that were too close, at the collision the spiders were thrown back a few meters with visible damage. He jumped in the backseat with Fang. The car's engine roared, sending them off through the forest.

It was by far the worst ride Vincent ever had. They smashed through the undergrowth of the trees, making the ride more than a little bumpy. After an excruciating ten minutes, they made their way out to the edge of the forest, getting chucked out by the car. Fang landed on Vincent with a bark.

"I am never, letting you drive anything again Ron," Vincent said sounding slightly nauseous.

"That wasn't even me!" Ron felt wronged as he started vomiting beside Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

Harry guided Fang back into the hut before coming back out with his invisibility cloak.

"Follow the spiders," said Ron weakly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive."

"I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," said Harry.

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" said Ron, thumping the wall of the cabin, "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!" He was shivering uncontrollably now, "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"That Hagrid really was innocent," Vincent muttered as they trudged back to the castle under the cloak, "just confirms the theory of Riddle being the culprit."

"What was with your rods and that potion?" Harry asked.

"Pulse potion," Vincent said, "at the moment of collision, it generates a pulse of sorts. My sheaths insides contain a gel version of it, making it latch on to my rods. When my rod collides with something, the force and impact would be multiplied by ludicrous amount."

"I don't get it," Ron muttered.

"When the potion hits something, it hurts and blasts people away," Vincent simplified, "it's basically an extremely diluted Thunderbolt potion."

"So you just carry that stuff around with you?" Harry asked stopping just outside the castle.

"Yeah, this pouch here is filled with that Potion, why are you backing away?"

"He's a ticking time bomb," thought Harry and stood a fair distance from Vincent.

"He's mad, he's bloody mad," Ron thought dreadfully.

Vincent's eyes twitched as he looked at their wary gazes.

"But wait, doesn't you're rod negate magic?" Harry asked. "Shouldn't the potion lose it's effectiveness then?"

"Yeah… about that," Vincent scratched the back of his head. "The rods… are a bit strange."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if I apply the potion to the rods, it works, and doesn't lose it's effectiveness. If someone else did it though, it's disrupts or outright negates it."

"How does that make any sense?" Ron asked.

"I have no clue, but that's the way it works."

Vincent didn't know what Dumbledore did to the rods, it's not the first time he thought about it. But the more he found out about it the more he started to realise that there was a lot more to it than he thought.

Back in bed, Vincent was going to doze off when Harry started whispering to him and Ron.

"Ron," he hissed through the dark, "Vince—"

Ron was slightly startled as he rubbed his eyes tiringly.

"Ron — that girl who died. Aragog said she was found in a bathroom," said Harry, ignoring Neville's snuffling snores from the corner, "What if she never left the bathroom? What if shes still there?"

Ron rubbed his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. He and Vincent looked at each other, understanding what Harry was trying to say, "You don't think — not Moaning Myrtle?"

...

It was the three days later at breakfast. Everyone was in high spirits after Professor McGonagall's announcement. It seems that tonight, those that were petrified would be cured. While Vincent felt happy about it, something kept nagging at the edge of his mind.

"What am I missing?" he thought, munching on his toast, "The teachers has been keeping an eye on the students, so there hasn't been a chance to talk to Myrtle, hm?"

"Hey Ginny, what's up?" Ron asked as his sister sat next to him.

Ginny kept looking around, as if scared. She kept rocking back and forth on her seat.

"Spit it out," said Ron, watching her.

Something about this behaviour rang so many bells in Vincent's head.

"I've got to tell you something," Ginny mumbled, not looking at either of them.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?" Harry asked in a low voice.

It was then that Percy decided to interrupt. He startled Ginny, making her runoff. Vincent looked at her retreating back before it hit him. He stood up so fast before rushing after the disappearing back of the young girl, earning a number of odd looks.

"Nyx, listen to me," Vincent said to the pixie in his pocket, "here's what I want you to do."

...

He followed her up to the second floor—where the writing on the wall still loomed like a curse.

"I… I don't want to do this… Please…" Ginny whispered shakily, frozen in front of the wall, her hand trembling as she held the paintbrush, scarlet words half-formed.

Vincent stepped into the corridor, silent as a shadow.

"Ginny."

She flinched, spinning around. Her eyes were red, cheeks streaked with tears. For whatever reason, the corridor was empty—just the two of them.

"Where's Riddle's diary?" Vincent asked quietly.

Her eyes widened. "Don't come closer," she whispered. "Please—he'll kill you. I'll kill you…"

She clutched at her arms, sliding to the floor, trembling. Vincent stood there for a moment, watching her break. His fists clenched at his sides. He'd noticed—how pale she'd grown, how distant—but he hadn't done anything. Why hadn't he done anything?

"It's not your fault, Ginny," he said gently, stepping closer. "None of this is your fault."

"Stay back!" she screamed, curling in on herself. "Tom, please don't make me—don't kill him—!"

Vincent knelt and wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed, burying her face into his chest.

"I told you, didn't I?" he murmured. "If you ever need help… just ask."

She didn't respond in words, only held him tighter. It felt like forever before her sobs faded and she slumped, exhausted.

"Get some rest," Vincent said softly, easing her to the floor. "I'll take care of it."

Then he stood and raised his voice.

"Come out, Tom. We need to talk."

Ginny stirred. Her body stiffened unnaturally, then rose to her feet—not by her will. A shadow appeared behind her: a tall, handsome boy with slicked-back hair and a cold smile carved into his face.

"So this is Vincent Wong," Tom Riddle said, like he was greeting an old acquaintance. "The Trespasser. Ginny's told me so much about you."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. His drew his rods, feeling comfort at their presence in his hands.

"Release her."

"But where's the fun in that?" Riddle said cheerfully, as he used Ginny's hand to scrawl words across the wall. Then, still smiling, he made her raise her wand.

And point it at herself.

Vincent's grip on his rods tightened so hard his knuckles cracked.

"Don't call for help," Riddle said lightly. "If you want her to stay alive, you'll follow."

He turned and walked straight into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Vincent followed without hesitation.

"Now, Ginny… if you would." Riddle said mockingly, as Ginny began to hiss in Parseltongue.

Vincent recognized it immediately. As Riddle turned his back, something slipped from Vincent's pocket—a small, gleaming blur that vanished into one of the stalls.

Riddle turned sharply, sensing something, but saw nothing.

Then, the sink began to shift and groan, sliding down into the floor to reveal a gaping pipe—large enough to crawl through.

"After you," Riddle smirked.

Ginny slid in first, silently. Vincent followed. The entrance sealed shut behind them, and a flicker of blue light zipped out from the stall with a small pouch and vanished down the corridor.

…

Deep beneath the school, in the darkness of the Chamber's outer tunnels, Tom walked ahead like a man giving a tour.

"As you can see," he said, gesturing casually, "our dear basilisk has shed its skin."

Vincent gave the enormous slough of scales a glance. "A burn mark… Must have been from when I bombed it last."

He stepped forward, eyes never leaving Tom's. "Let me ask you something. When did Ginny first get your diary?"

"Before she started at Hogwarts," Tom replied without missing a beat.

"Then the first time I saw her… when she was out on the streets…"

He stopped a few steps from Riddle.

"That was your doing, wasn't it?"

Tom raised a brow, intrigued. "Very good. How did you know?"

"Ginny's not the type to sneak around," Vincent said flatly. "She wouldn't have wandered out for no reason. You were testing her—how far you could push. How long you could stay in control. And once you figured it out, you didn't need to force it anymore. You slipped deeper into her head. Slowly. Until she was yours."

Riddle laughed—a dry, hollow sound that echoed off the chamber walls.

"Aren't you clever."

Then he started clapping slowly, mockingly.

"Honestly, with a mind like that, it's a shame you're not a wizard. You would've made a fine one."

"I'm not done," Vincent said.

Tom raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"During your time at Hogwarts, there were rumors—the earliest whispers of the Death Eaters forming. But after that, nothing. No further records, no public mentions. Which leads me to suspect only a few possibilities." Vincent's golden eyes narrowed, drilling into Tom's dark ones. "You're either dead, hiding… or perhaps, you were mentioned. Just under a different name."

He took a step closer.

"Am I right, Tom? Or should I say—Voldemort?"

For a moment, Tom was silent. Then he threw his head back and let out a manic, delighted laugh that echoed through the ancient stone.

"Indeed, indeed!" he said, eyes glittering with malice. "Impressive, Trespasser. Oh, how that name fits you. A man who walks between worlds—Muggle and magical, body and mind—ignoring every rule. A boundary-breaker in every sense."

With a hiss of Parseltongue, he stepped forward and spoke to the carved serpents on the great stone door. They unwound and slithered aside, revealing a darkened corridor beyond.

He strode ahead into the massive, echoing chamber—towering stone pillars wound with serpentine carvings stretched toward the blackened ceiling, casting twisted shadows through the eerie green light that seemed to ooze from the walls themselves.

Vincent followed, steps steady, gaze never leaving Riddle's back.

"I was going to ask what your end goal was," Vincent said at last, "but I think I know already. You want Harry Potter."

Tom turned, grinning. "Brilliant again. Tell me, how could a mere infant—just a child—defeat the greatest wizard of all time? And leave behind nothing but a scar?"

Vincent said nothing at first. Despite the compliment, he didn't feel particularly brilliant. If anything, he felt like a fool for letting it get this far.

"If I were truly smart," he muttered, "I wouldn't have let any of this happen."

He closed his eyes, willing away all the 'should've' and 'could've' thoughts from his mind. None of that was relevant at this very moment. Only one thing mattered, and it was right in front of him.

He opened his eyes, his gaze hardened at he glared at the boy in front of him.

"That's where you're wrong, Tom."

Tom narrowed his eyes.

"You were never the greatest wizard," Vincent said calmly. "I can name a dozen people greater than you."

Tom's lip curled.

"Neville Longbottom," Vincent began. "People call him clumsy, even slow. But he's brave. Loyal. And he works harder than most."

Tom scoffed.

"Luna Lovegood. Strange? Sure. But she's kind, honest, and never afraid of who she is—or who others are. That kind of strength? You'll never understand it."

"What are you playing at?" Tom snapped, voice tight.

"Ron Weasley," Vincent went on. "He can be an idiot. Jealous, insecure. But when it matters, he's always there. No one's more loyal."

"Hermione Granger," Vincent added, ignoring the tick in Tom's jaw. "A Muggle-born. Brilliant. Fierce. The kind of person who'll solve anything, no matter how impossible it seems."

"Enough—!"

"Harry Potter," Vincent continued, finally freeing the wand from Ginny's grip. "He's reckless, stubborn, and far too willing to throw himself in danger. But he fights to protect others. He'd die for someone he loves."

"And Ginny…" Vincent looked down at her trembling form. "She spent the whole year suffering, alone, possessed. And she still kept going. Still fought. Despite the confusion, the pain, the fear—she never gave up."

"She couldn't fight me!" Tom barked. "She was mine!"

"Even under your control, she went to class. She lived her life. She held on to every bit of herself she could. And right now?" Vincent raised his rod and aimed it at Tom's chest. "She's still fighting."

"Shut up, you little brat!" Tom roared. "Ginny—I order you to—!"

A strangled cry broke from Ginny as she collapsed forward, body shuddering violently.

Vincent caught her, easing her to the floor as he stared Tom down.

"See?" he said softly. "Still struggling."

Tom's face twisted with rage. "YOU BRAT!"

In a puff of black smoke, he vanished.

Vincent barely turned before a brutal kick struck his side. He hit the ground hard, the wand slipping from his grasp—snatched away by a blur of motion.

"I'll make your death painfu—!"

Tom didn't get to finish.

His face caved in with a sickening crack as Vincent's fist connected in a devastating punch. The sound echoed like a thunderclap through the stone chamber. Tom flew several meters before hitting the ground and re-materializing in a kneeling position, one hand clutching his face, eyes burning with fury.

Vincent stood over him, golden eyes glowing like molten metal. "I'm going to enjoy beating the hell out of you," he muttered.

Tom growled and flicked Ginny's wand.

A massive serpent formed—black energy slithering from the wand's tip, hissing violently as it lunged for Vincent.

Tom expected fear. Panic. Retreat.

Instead, Vincent raised a leg and stomped.

The impact shattered the snake, scattering the dark magic into wisps and sending a tremor through the stone floor. A crater cracked beneath his foot.

Tom stared in open disbelief. What—? How?!

Before the thought could finish, Vincent rushed him.

Twin rods flew from Vincent's hands like bullets. Tom stabbed the wand into the ground and conjured two stone pillars in defense—only for them to explode into rubble on impact. Dust clouded the air.

Then two feet slammed into Tom's chest.

Vincent's dropkick sent him crashing into the wall with enough force to crack it. Tom hit the ground hard—but stood again, somehow uninjured. His form was still incomplete, more soul than body.

Vincent got up and took a step forward. "And there's one more person who's not just greater—but stronger than you."

Tom's expression darkened. "Who?"

Vincent stared him down.

"Dumbledore, you'll never be as great as him."

That hit home.

Tom froze. His face went blank for a moment. Then his jaw clenched, and his fingers curled tight around the wand. Vincent could see it—the fury building behind his cold eyes.

Vincent didn't flinch. He pulled out a small vial from his belt and downed it in one motion. Leg-Strengthening Potion. The last of it. He tossed the bottle aside with a clink.

Tom watched him with hate.

He wanted to kill Vincent. Rip him apart. But he couldn't. Not yet. His body wasn't fully formed. He hadn't absorbed enough of Ginny's soul. And the wand he held—it didn't recognize him as its master. The spells he could cast were limited.

"I could threaten the girl," he thought, "No, what if he finds out that I still need her soul. I suppose, I have no choice..."

His expression twisted into something smug.

"You seem to forget where you are, boy," Tom said smoothly, raising the wand. "This is the Chamber of Secrets. Did you forget the beast that slumbers here?"

Vincent's eyes widened as Tom pointed his wand at the floor beneath Vincent.

"Bombarda!"

The floor beneath Vincent erupted.

Stone shattered as he fell through the sudden hole. Transfigured chains coiled like snakes across the opening, sealing it off.

Vincent cursed as he landed hard, rolling across the wet floor, completely soaking him.

He groaned, forcing himself into a kneeling position. Only a faint shaft of light came through the broken floor above. Everything else was pitch black.

Then—hissing.

Vincent turned just in time to see the outline of something massive surge forward.

WHAM!

The blow slammed Vincent into the chamber wall. Pain exploded down his spine as the breath was driven from his lungs. He hit the floor hard, coughing, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Something cracked—a rib, maybe two.

Wincing, he pushed himself upright, one hand pressed to his side.

The chamber was nearly pitch black. Only a thin beam of light trickled in from the hole above, and even that was swallowed by the gloom.

Then—movement.

Something shifted in the shadows. Huge. Heavy. Slow.

Vincent squinted.

Barely, just barely, he could make out the outline of a massive serpent sliding through the darkness. Its body coiled with a deliberate menace, scales gleaming faintly like wet stone. The eyes were hidden beneath thick lids, but the presence—the weight of it—was unmistakable.

And along its flank…

There. A burn mark. Faint, but visible. Like a scar.

Vincent blinked. "... Is that from the potion I hit it with a while back?"

He reached into his belt and pulled out a small, metallic vial. His fingers were shaking.

The serpent let out another hiss—low, rattling, furious.

"Yeah," Vincent muttered, forcing a grin despite the pain. "Definitely holds a grudge."

He uncorked the vial with his teeth and downed it in one quick motion, bracing himself as he faced the dark.

"I'll take that as a yes."

...

Above, Tom peered into the sealed dark pit with cold satisfaction.

"You might've become a real threat… if I'd let you live," he murmured.

A sharp bang echoed from the far end of the Chamber, making him flinch. He turned, frowning.

Who could have gotten in?

Footsteps followed—light, hurried, echoing across the wet stone.

"Ginny? Ginny, wake up!"

Tom turned fully, brow arched.

There, kneeling beside the unconscious girl, was a black-haired boy, his voice tight with panic.

"Well, well," Tom said, a slow smile spreading across his face as he stepped away from the pit.

"Harry Potter."