THEY WERE STANDING AT THE END OF A VERY LONG, DIMLY LIT CHAMBER. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

Harper's heard was beating very fast, as she stood listening to the chill silence. Could the Basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?

Both of them pulled out their wands and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footsteps echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. They kept their eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement.

Then, as they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. They had to crane their necks to look up into the giant face above: it was ancient and monkey-like, with a long thin beard that fell almost on the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small, black-robed-figure with flaming red hair.

"Ginny!" Harper exclaimed, sprinting towards her and falling on her knees. "Ginny! Don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" Harper grabbed her shoulders and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be . . .

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, his wand flung aside, as Harper kept on shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

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

Harry and Harper jumped and spun around on their knees.

A tall black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though she was looking at him through a misted window. Harper did not recognize him.

"Tom—Tom Riddle?" Harry said in disbelief, who did recognize him. Harper tightened the grip on her wand.

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry asked, as Harper stood over Ginny, protective. "She's not—she's not—?"

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

Harry stared at him and Harper didn't know why, but she knew something was off with this Riddle person.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainty.

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

He pointed towards the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary they had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"You've got to help us, Tom," Harry said, as Harper raised Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a Basilisk . . . I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment. Please, help us . . ."

Riddle's eyes shifted from Harry to Harper for the first time since they'd entered the Chamber.

"Harry, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

"Right, er, this is Harper, my sister . . ."

"Your sister?" Riddle repeated, watching her with more interest now, Harry's wand was magically in his hands.

"Listen," Harry began urgently, "we've got to go! If the Basilisk comes . . ."

"It won't come until it is called," Riddle said calmly.

"What'd you mean?" Harry said. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it."

Riddle smiled. "You won't be needing it."

"What d'you mean, I won't be—?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," Riddle began. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you." His eyes darted over to Harper. "And your sister."

"Look," Harry said, and Harper saw that he was starting to lose his patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," Riddle said, smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

"How did Ginny get like this?" Harper spoke up for the first time and both boys looked at her.

"Well, that's an interesting question," Riddle said pleasantly. "And quite a long story. 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?" Harry said.

"The diary," Riddle replied. "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, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom . . . I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in . . . It's like having a friend I can carry round in my pocket . . ."

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs on the back of Harper's neck stand up.

"If I say it myself, Harry, Harper, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her souls 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 . . ."

Harper paled. "You didn't," she muttered, knowing what he had done.

"What d'you mean?" Harry said, looking from her to Riddle.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter? Your sister has," Riddle said 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 four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"No," Harper growled. "You did!"

"Yes," Riddle said, calmly. "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, watching our horrified faces, "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got here. Dear Tom, I 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."

Harper's fists were clenched, the nails digging deeper into her palms.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," Riddle said. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet . . ."

"And why did you want to meet me?" Harry said, while Harper felt anger coursing through her.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," Riddle replied. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and his expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust."

"Hagrid's our friend," Harper defended the half-giant.

"You framed him, didn't you?" Harry spoke up. "I thought you made a mistake, but . . ."

Riddle laughed his high laugh again.

"It was my word against Hagrid's. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school Prefect, model student; on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls. But I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I though someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance . . . as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed. Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did . . ."

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," Harry said, gritting his teeth.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," Riddle said 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 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 Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

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

"Haven't I already told you," Riddle said quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me any more? For many months now, my new target has been—your brother."

Harry and Harper stared at him and Riddle turned back to her brother.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that 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 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: 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."

"Like what?" Harry spat, fists still clenched.

"Well," Riddle said, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that a baby 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? And why didn't he know that you had a sister?"

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

"Why do you care how I escaped?" Harry asked, slowly. "Voldemort was after your time."

"Voldemort," Riddle began softly, "is my past, present and future, Harry Potter . . ."

He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name for ever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Harper's brain seemed to have jammed. She stared numbly at Riddle. He had killed their parents and so many others . . . And then, she felt the need to be the smartest person in the room.

"You're not," Harper said, rather amused.

"What?" Riddle snapped.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," Harper continued and Harry nodded in agreement. "Sorry to disappoint you, and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days."

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.

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 Harper's scalp and made her heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that she felt it vibrating inside her own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

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

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

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

"Yeah, we know," Harper said proudly.

"Fawkes?" Harry breathed.

"And that . . ." Riddle said, now eying the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat."

Harper picked it up and looked at it. "So it seems."

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddle's were laughing at once.

"This is what Dumbledore send his defenders! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry and Harper Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

Harper glanced at Fawkes and the Sorting Hat. "You might be surprised, but actually I do."

"To business, Harry," Riddle said, ignoring her, while 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."

Harper knew Harry was thinking fast, so was she, weighing their chances. Riddle had Harry's wand. They had her, Harry, Fawkes and the Sorting Hat. Harry hadn't got his wand and Harper doubted that Fawkes and the Sorting Hat would be a great help in the fight. It looked bad, all right. But the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny . . . and meantime, she noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid. If it had to be a fight between them and Riddle, better sooner than later. And she knew Harry knew that.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," Harry said abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because our mother died to save me. Our commen Muggle-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul!"

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile.

"So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now—there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. 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."

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

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him. You can even use your sister."

He cast an amused eye over Fawkes, the Sorting Hat and Harper, then walked away. He stopped between the high pillars and looked up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed.

"Close you're eyes, Harp," Harry said who obviously understood him and she closed her eyes tightly. "It's coming."

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April 18th 2022
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)