[victoria's pov]

It happened in a flash and I found myself in Tom's chamber, his journal nowhere to be seen–my wand wasn't in sight either. The familiar dewy walls dripped onto the moist ground. The chamber was lit by the near moon, revealing the massiveness.

"This must be how Tom gets in and out of his chamber so fast," I said with a scoff. I knew he was clever, but not this clever. It was advanced magic, if you wanted to travel from one place to another in a second, especially on Hogwarts' school grounds because of the anti-apparate spell.
"I have to give it to him," I admitted to myself. "I'm impressed."

There was a little cobble so I turned around, assuming Tom had found me. I turned around to compliment his work but something made me freeze. Around me was what looked like a wall of purple- no–green fingernails. But the realisation sank in, panic just as fast.

I stopped myself from gasping.

They were scales.

Attempting to back away to a further column, I bumped into a leaning figure and yelped, which caused the creature to freeze. It heard me. Their body pinned me against the wall forcefully. The figure behind me wrapped their hand over my mouth as I pushed myself out of their arms and turned around.

It was Tom.

I wanted to curse at him, question him about this creature but I was more concerned about the situation itself, rather than scolding him for answers at the moment.

Tom quickly signed for me to "hush," with his finger over his lips. He tugged my wrist and we both hid behind a column. Once the creature was distant, I gave Tom a look for an explanation. He knew exactly what I wanted: answers.

"Hagrid's monster is still roaming in the school!" I exclaimed. "We have to get back and tell Dippet."

His eyes told me the opposite. He replied in a whisper. "That's not our concern, no one's really in danger." His eyes never left mine, as he was trying to explain the situation.

"At least, no one in the real world," he added.

I raised one of my brows in question.

There was a hissing sound and Tom pushed me against the column, his face stern and hands over my mouth, knowing I was going to explode with a great deal of questioning right then and now. I didn't demand for further questions though when I thought of the beast's potential wrath.

"We don't have time to argue right now," Tom said. "Nothing we do can change the past–just the events of this book, it's all just based on what I wrote down in the journal. We're only here until the last passage is played out, got it?"

I nodded. His hand moved away.

"You did this?" I whispered. "You created this- this place?"

"I only created a spell on the journal to play out the events," he said. "Intentionally forbidding magic just in case anyone decides to sneak around my things like you."

"So what?" I asked. "Someone snoops around your things and you give them a big scare?"

He stood silent.

"What aren't you telling me, Tom?" I questioned.

"We can be killed."

"I- we can be killed? You told me-"

He interrupted me. "I told you nothing we do will affect this place. Though on the other hand..."

"Anything in this world can kill us, even in the real world," I put together and he nodded.

The surroundings began to shift like how you'd view your surroundings when you apparate but almost in slow motion.

"We're being sent to the next passage," Tom said in a way of reassurance but I doubted things could get any better. We were sent to a very familiar restroom...

And before my very eyes, I saw her. Myrtle.

Alive.

"Stupid Olive Hornby," she mumbled as she sped-walked into the restroom, her face buried in her sleeves.

I ducked behind a wall and pulled Tom Riddle near me as he didn't protest and we both hid, his chin almost touching my forehead. Our chests beat against each other, heart almost to heart.

She walked into the stall and quietly sobbed. Riddle and I stayed hidden behind the sinks. I realised we were brought to the mere moments before her death. I turned to Riddle and he knew immediately what I was thinking.

"No," he warned, his hand gripping my forearm. "You can't save her. This isn't real."

"Tom, if there's any chance to keep her from dying–in any world–we have to save her! It's not fair how she died!"

"You could be killed." His tone was more concerned than caring.

"By who exactly?"

The sinks started to separate. Riddle forced us into a locked stall and we both stood on a toilet, my arms wrapped around his torso for balance. There was the familiar hissing sound and I could hear the creature's slime pull from the floor.

"Shove off, Olive!" Myrtle cried out, finally having enough of the teasing.

There was a horrific start of a scream, but it was cut off immediately. Myrtle's body dropped and she fell limp in front of our stall. Her spectacles had flown in front of us from under the stall. I could sense how still her body had become from the other side. I clung myself closer to Riddle, burying my face into his jumper, trying to get rid of Myrtle's horrid scream that was echoing in my ears. It rang until light footsteps entered the restroom.

Under the stall, I could see a figure near us–or Myrtle. It was a young man. He used his shoe to turn her head towards his direction–to give her a closer look. Tom flew his hand over the back of my head and tried to bury my eyes under his arms. But I had to know who did it, who was really behind the crime of this injustice. I fought him to find the truth.

The man muttered something I didn't understand. A native tongue.

The realisation hit me faster than a killing curse. I freed myself from Riddle's grasp and stepped down, away from him. His face said it all. Standing outside the stall was none other than himself. I gasped and pushed myself away from Riddle. I fell to the ground, expecting past-Riddle to react.

He didn't. 

My breath quickened and I stood up as Riddle neared me. "Don't touch me!" I exclaimed, backing away as he grabbed my arm and tugged me harshly toward him. Riddle's eyes glared down at me and scowled.

"You should have heed my warning, Locke," he said. "Look what you've done."

My body quivered. "You killed her," I snapped. "You blamed Hagrid- you-"

"I am finishing Salazar Slytherin's noble work!" he said, loosening his grip. I backed away from him and stumbled out of the tiny stall. I stumbled over Myrtle's body and yelped when I saw her face. Her face turned cold and pale like the moon. I turned my head and saw the creature that had killed her. Past-Riddle caressed the scales of the monster as it bowed its head obediently. They were both oblivious to my presence.

A woman's voice joined the presence. "Done it now, have you?" she asked the past-Riddle. I turned my head.

But it was all too much and the walls around me began to close in as Riddle tried to grab me. In a second, I forgot about the stranger and fled Riddle's grasp. I backed away and our surroundings changed. I fell onto the stone ground of a new setting and the bathroom's warm lighting disappeared. It was as if I apparated.

I quickly stood up, keeping my distance.

"You're going to kill me now, aren't you?" I asked.

"Now why would I do that?" he asked with a grin. "You're just barely scratching the surface."
"This isn't a game of cat and mouse, Riddle!" I exclaimed. "You. Killed. Someone."

His face was inches from mine. Remorse was absent in his eyes.

"Myrtle was nothing to me," he said softly. "Just a mere asset. All of them were."

I bumped into a tree behind me and finally looked around. It was dark out and the air was moist. A large manor garden surrounded us and the stone grounds were covered with fallen leaves.

"Where are we, Riddle..."

A scream from inside the manor shattered the silence. I turned my head and looked inside the window, seeing a man's figure run past.

"You don't belong here!" he shouted at someone and I ran for the manor's door. I entered the large home, followed my Riddle and hurried to the commotion, down a corridor. On the wall hung a painting of a handsome man. I felt my heart race.

"You're his spitting image," I said softly, stunned by how similar he looked. How normal he could have been if muggle-born.

A green light flashed and my heart stopped. I knew the curse that had been shot. I slowly entered the sitting room and on the floor were three muggles, lifelessly laid on the ground. Past-Riddle left in search of something as Riddle and I entered the horrific scene.

Portraits fell off the wall, shattered glass scattered on the floor as the blazing fireplace created lean shadows over us. Shattered ceramics and vases coated the floor like snowfall. The walls were torn through like a savage beast had been released and the air was sharp and cold, reeking of death. 

My heart pounded and my breath stopped short.

"Riddle-"

"My name is Voldemort," Riddle interrupted me coldly. "Surely you didn't think I'd keep my pathetic father's mudblood name?"

I stood there speechless. Afraid. Horrified.

He neared his father's body, reliving the scene. Resentfulness was painted on his face. His back was faced away from me and I slowly picked up a long, glass shard.

I neared him and swung my arm toward his back. As I did, he whipped around and grabbed me by the neck, pinning me up against the wall with an inhuman strength. He harshly grabbed the glass from my hands and threw it into the fireplace. Air slowly began to leave my body as I struggled to breath.

"Let's not do anything impulsive right now," he said with an amused smirk.

Tears began to surface as I fought for air. His grip around my neck only tightened.

"Though I do admire your bravery," he scoffed. "You'd be in Gryffindor if it weren't for that strong ambition of yours. Always loving the part of detective, hm?"

I pushed him away from me as his grip loosened. He let me fall to the ground as I gasped for air, coughing. He watched me at his feet as I stroked my neck, feeling the dents in my skin.

"Killing your father won't change the fact that you're a half-born," I said, sitting against the wall with my head thrust back. "Killing half bloods will never change that."

His brows arched in and his jaw clenched. He shuffled closer to me, grabbing me by the hair to force my eyes closer to him. Pain shot through my head. 

"Didn't I tell you?" he spat. "For many months now, my new target has been you."

I shut my lips shut tightly and a tear fell down my cheek. The corner of his lips curved.

"Why?" I asked desperately.

Riddle seemed intrigued as his eyes darkened. "I know for a fact you're hiding something yourself," he said softly. "And I intend to find out."

My eyes slightly widened. What was it he thought I was hiding from him?

"Your memories have been erased," he realised with a sly smile.

My eyes widened. What in the worlds was he talking about? I stopped shaking and looked away from him, flooding with confusion.

"How would you know that..." I asked him with great concern.

He held a smug expression and tilted his head like it was the simplest answer ever. "You'll find I'm- how do I put it? Quite skilled when it comes to legilimency."

I locked my eyes with him, questioning every interaction we'd ever had.

Questioning the moment I thought we could be friends.

Or the moment we met.

"You're not easy to put together," Riddle continued. "But know that I will find your memories."

Our surroundings began to change and my heart began to race again. The room spun until I shut my eyes tightly.

I fell onto a soft landing, Riddle beside me. We were back in his dorm, I realised. I grabbed my wand and I quickly got to my feet, rushing out. He didn't call for me as I I ran past a couple of students, making my way away from the dungeons.

Away from the castle.

Away from Voldemort.

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November 12th, 2023.