Archive of Our Own

Come to the girls' bathroom on the second floor after curfew. I'm ready for you now.

Harry put the note back in his pocket. It was the fifth, tenth, hundredth time he'd checked since Colin Creevey passed it to him at dinner. The piece of parchment had been folded into crisp thirds, with Tom's handwriting firm and flawless in its confidence, when he had received it. Now it had rough, ragged creases and greasy fingerprints from Harry folding and unfolding it.

It was after eleven. The invisibility cloak fluttered around him as he hurried down the hall. Ron had stayed up late playing wizard's chess, and then spent an excruciating amount of time on a play-by-play retelling before finally falling asleep.

The hallways were empty, echoing, desolate. Harry was pretty sure this was the first time he'd been out past curfew and not run into someone. The portrait residents were gone or asleep. There was no Filch or Mrs. Norris. No Snape. Just Harry gradually speeding up until he was running down the hall. There was something wrong. There had to be something wrong.

Panting, Harry slammed through the girls' room door and slid on the slippery tile. His hand passed through a shimmering white facade before connecting with the counter. He snatched the invisibility cloak before it slid entirely off of him, tucking it under his arm. Moaning Myrtle frowned at him, teary eyed.

"If HE hadn't told me to be nice to you, I would scream and scream until someone came. I don't want you here, though, so go away already."

"I don't- I was told to come here?"

"He said 'Tell the boy with a scar on his forehead to find the snake, and then tell it to open.'"

Harry turned in circles, careful to keep close to the counter in case he slipped again, but didn't see anything. "In here? A snake?"

"Yes," she said, her lips protruding in a frowning pout.

"Are you sure? I mean-"

Shrieking, Myrtle flew through him and ripped open one of the stalls. She turned to him just before jumping in and sobbed, "You don't believe me! No one believes me!" and then she was gone with a mighty splash that somehow drenched Harry from across the room.

Shaking himself vigorously, he held the sodden cloak out and tried to wring it dry. When that didn't work after a couple attempts, Harry balled it up and shoved it under his arm again. Glancing around, he frowned. He didn't see any snakes.

Knowing that Tom wouldn't send him there for nothing, Harry sighed and started checking the stalls. He skipped over Myrtle's strangely gurgling one, before giving in and going back when the others didn't appear to have any snakes. The water in the bowl bubbled up at him like a cauldron at full boil, and he hurriedly backed out.

Harry's right foot slipped to the side and his left tripped over it, sending him to the ground. Groaning, he opened his eyes and pulled himself up using the sink, determined to leave and risk Tom's wrath, when he noticed the snake on one of the taps. "Uh.. Open?"

Nothing happened and Harry sighed. "Please open? Open Sesame?"

Still no response. He stood up and glared at the snake. "I said open!"

The tap glowed a brilliant white and then spun in frantic circles before the whole sink dropped down and disappeared, revealing a massive pipe leading downwards like a slide.

He turned back to Myrtle's stall. "I'm supposed to go down there?"

The water bubbled aggressively and he quickly dropped to his butt and swung himself down the pipe. If it had been lit up, clean, and outside in the hot summer sun, Harry might have enjoyed it. As it was, the pipe was dark and full of jarring bumps that were only partially smoothed by the cold, clinging slime that caked the entire thing.

Hurtling along, faster and faster, he didn't realize the pipe had ended until he was midair after being shot out of the opening. Harry landed on his side and skidded to stop after a series of three bumps over the tacky sludge covering the ground. He rolled to his stomach and then pushed up to a sitting position, pulling out his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered.

The single point of light illuminated a floor covered in such a thick layer of crud that he almost couldn't see the individual stones. Disgusted, Harry clambered to his feet and tried to wipe himself off. His attempts yielded no better results than to mix the slime into thinner and thicker layers. The cloak of invisibility was a giant, sticky mass sitting on the ground.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, picking up the cloak and squinting to see in the dim light. He was in a tunnel tall enough to walk in, but not quite as big as one of the castle hallways. Where was he?

"Tom!" His voice echoed back distorted versions of his friend's name. He tried again. "TOM!!"

"Why'd he want me to come down here?" Harry wondered, turning in a circle again in the hopes that something had changed. He sighed and started trudging down the hallway. It had to lead somewhere.

His wand wasn't bright enough to do more than distort his shadow into an alarming blur of flailing appendages reflecting off the slime. He shuffled along, staying close to the wall, until he stepped on something that crunched.

Sweeping his wand down low, Harry saw that the floor ahead was sporadically covered in rodent bones. He stepped away from the tiny carcass he had crushed and tipped his head back with an aggravated sigh. "What the hell, Tom?"

Face stuck in a grimace, Harry did his best to ignore the constant crunching as he continued. A giant mass suddenly loomed out of the shadows cast by his wand. He jumped back, slid in the sludge, and fell hard on his butt.

"Ow!" Harry yelled, scrambling backwards. Using the grimy wall to pull himself up, he eyed the enormous snakeskin draped along the side of the tunnel. The skin was a good twenty feet long and bright green. He hadn't signed up for this.

Trying to move around it was difficult, and he often had to step on it to get by. He had to hike up the cloak when the jagged scales caught on the trailing end. Scowling, Harry wished he hadn't brought it.

Soon enough the skin was left behind, and the end of the tunnel was in front of him. Two entwined snakes with glittering emerald eyes watched him approach. Harry cleared his throat. "Open."

The snakes separated, the double doors forcing them apart as they opened, and Harry stared into the massive room beyond. His fingers twitched on the cloak of invisibility. Should he cover himself and sneak in?

"Harry!" Tom's voice echoed, his call distorted by distance and seemingly swallowed by the stone snakes clinging to the tall pillars inside the cavern. There were no more emeralds, and still their eyes seemed to flicker with life in the strange green light.

"Nox," whispered Harry, pocketing his now dark wand before entering the room. The carved snake pillars rose into nothingness, the openness of the space oppressive when he thought about how deep under the school he must be. It didn't take long for a statue of a tall, bearded man to come into view.

Tom stood with his back to it, facing Harry. He grinned when their eyes met. "You came."

Harry shrugged self-consciously and looked around the cavern. "What is this place?"

"What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Nothing."

"One day I will tell you all its history." Tom's smile widened, looking eager and somehow less friendly. He strolled forward until he was close enough to grab Harry's shoulder. He gave him a soft shake, enough that Harry wobbled on his feet but not enough to push him around. "For now, the short version."

Harry nodded, hating that he was relieved to be talking to Tom again. Being reunited after the past couple weeks apart felt as good, and as alarming, as he had expected. "Where's your diary?"

Tom's impossibly wide grin widened further. "It's around."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It doesn't."

Harry tried to stare the older boy down, but his glare had no effect on Tom aside from further amusing him. He sighed. "What do you want to tell me?"

"This chamber was built by Salazar Slytherin himself," Tom began, releasing Harry's shoulder and pacing around him, "for him and his heirs. This was a place to escape from the other founders, and their insistence on educating Muggleborn children."

"This is the short version?"

Tom was suddenly in his face, hands fisting in Harry's shirt and pulling him up onto his toes. "Do not interrupt me."

Harry nodded, but Tom didn't release him. There was a muffled sound coming from the base of the statue, and Tom pulled him closer while turning them so Harry couldn't see what the source was.

"As I was saying," he paused to raise an eyebrow at Harry, who remained silent, and continued, "before the others drove Slytherin away, he brought a basilisk here and placed her into hibernation."

"Why?" Harry dared to ask. He put his hands up at Tom's frown and quickly added, "What's a basilisk?"

"How do you not know what a basilisk is?" Tom released Harry and paced away before turning to hear his answer.

"Raised by Muggles. You also refused to teach me Care of Magical Creatures, so all I know is what the second years are taught."

Tom sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "I'll give the simple explanation."

"Actually simple, or simple for you?" Harry snarked. He backpedaled into one of the pillars when Tom came towards him. The older boy set his right hand against the stone by Harry's neck, close enough that his fingertips brushed against the sensitive skin there. His left rested up above Harry's head.

"Is there something the matter, Harry? You seem… unusually mouthy tonight."

"You don't know me."

Tom laughed and leaned in closer, pressing their foreheads together. "I know you better than anyone else ever has or ever will."

Harry closed his eyes and waited for Tom to move away. He did eventually, but only after ruffling Harry's unruly hair.

"Basilisks are known as the 'King of Snakes.' They are magical creatures created from a chicken egg being hatched by a toad. They are large, intelligent, and extremely venomous, but are mostly infamous for their ability to petrify or even kill anything that looks into their eyes."

"Why would Slytherin bring something like that into the school?"

"His hope was to someday unleash it on the Muggleborns at the school."

"But why?"

"Muggleborns are impure, dirty, and dangerous-"

"No they aren't. My mother was a Muggleborn! So is Hermione!"

Tom sighed. "There are always except-"

"They are not exceptions! How are we any better, Tom? You and I were both raised by Muggles! We didn't know anything about any of this."

"I knew I had magic, knew I was special, long before I received my Hogwarts letter. You did your best to repress your abilities; while I embraced them."

"And that worked out great for you, didn't it? I'm sure you made lots of friends at the orphanage."

"I didn't need to be friends with any of the pathetic scum at that place. Your efforts didn't make you any friends either, though, did they? You were just as alone as I was."

He scoffed and moved off the pillar. Tom stepped in his way when he started towards the statue. Harry stood his ground and glared up at him. "What's over there, Tom?"

Tom narrowed his eyes and didn't answer. Harry realized then that the other boy didn't look as blurred around the edges as he normally did. "How long have you been out of the diary?"

"I have plenty of time," was the careless answer. Tom didn't look as calm as he was trying to sound, though, and he didn't move out of Harry's way.

"What are you up to? You made me give Ginny the diary so she could help you get a body. Where is she? How did you get down here?"

"You're only just now thinking of this?" Tom taunted, lips turning up into a smile that his eyes didn't match. They were fierce, focused, hungry.

Harry didn't like feeling as if he were about to be devoured. "What's going on, Tom?"

"You know that I am the memories of myself as a fifth year student here."

"Yes?"

"You didn't wonder how that was accomplished?"

"No?"

Tom sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He started to move away, likely to pace again, but jerked to a stop and took a deep breath instead. "You are so willfully oblivious. It is very frustrating."

Harry just shrugged. "You're not answering my question."

"No, I'm not."

Harry stepped into Tom's space, standing toe to toe, and leaned up as tall as he could without going on tiptoes. "What are you hiding? What's behind you?"

Tom smiled down at him. "I don't think you'd like the truth, Harry. You'll be much happier not knowing."

Harry scoffed and shoved him. "Show me."

With a dramatic sigh, the older boy bowed out of the way, revealing Ginny's body sprawled at the base of the statue.

"Ginny!"

Harry didn't remember how, exactly, he got there. One minute he was staring at her body in horror, and the next he was on his knees next to her. His fingers trembled as he brushed them against her shoulder. She felt cold. "Is she-?"

Tom knelt down next to him and calmly flipped her onto her back. "She's still got some life left."

There were tear tracks on her ghostly pale face. "What did you do to her?"

"To get a body of my own, I need to drain energy from someone else. A lot of it." He paused, watching Harry push Ginny's hair out of her face. "All of it, in fact."

Harry froze and stared at him. "You're killing her."

"Yes."

He looked between Ginny and Tom for a moment, before wiping a hand across his face and leaning forward to whisper. "Stop it. You said it could be her or me. Take me instead."

"It's already done, Harry."

"No it isn't!" Harry yelled, shoving the older boy.

Tom didn't move. He frowned at the first clenching his robes before placing his hand on top of it. "You would have been the easier choice, I had a better hold on you, but she was willing and that let me pull from her instead."

"I don't understand."

"It was you or her, Harry. And I didn't want you to die," he paused, looking down at Ginny, before shrugging and meeting Harry's eyes. "Do you know why that is?"

"I don't- No. I don't want to hear it!" Harry yelled, pulling away. He drew his wand and pointed it at the older boy. "Stop it! Let her go!"

Tom idly twirled the wand he'd pulled from his robes. His handsome face was turned down in a resigned frown. "You don't want to fight me, Harry."

"Just let her go, Tom. Take me instead!"

"No. I made my choice, and so did she. It's done, Harry. She's already gone."

"You said she wasn't dead!"

Tom shrugged. "She wasn't then."

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried.

"Protego," Tom said before Harry had finished. The beam of red light bounced off his shield. "You don't know anything that can challenge me, Harry. I taught you everything you know."

"Rictusempra!"

Tom started laughing, and for a moment Harry thought his spell had actually hit, but then the older boy stood up straight and calmly said, "Confundo."

Harry dropped to the ground and rolled away from the spell. Ducking behind a pillar, he yelled, "I thought we were friends, Tom! I trusted you!"

"Oh, Harry. You really shouldn't have trusted a sentient diary," Tom's voice chided from somewhere on the right, "Your ignorance gave me access to parts of you it's best not to let anyone into."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, moving around the pillar to the left.

Tom popped up in front of him and grabbed his wand. Harry kicked at his knees, trying to pull away, and Tom released him. Landing flat on his back with a mighty oomph, he gasped for breath as Tom planted his foot on his wand hand.

"Strangely enough, as you were giving me these connections, I grew connected to you."

"What does that even mean?"

Tom tsked and applied pressure to Harry's hand. "The connection is supposed to go one way. You give me access, and I take what I want. But in this case, I began to see a lot of myself in you."

"I'm nothing like you!"

Tom just chuckled and pressed down harder. He watched Harry grunt in pain with a calm, almost curious, expression. "We have more in common than you will ever know, much less admit."

Harry swung his other hand over to punch at Tom's leg. "Let me go!"

Laughing, Tom obliged. He was still laughing when Harry got to his feet, and wordlessly deflected Harry's 'expelliarmus.'

Furious, Harry tried 'incendio' next.

Tom dodged the spell and cackled. "Are you angry with me, Harry?"

"Why did you have to do this, Tom?!" Harry yelled, casting an easily blocked 'diffindo.' "Why couldn't you just stay in the diary?"

"Why would I want to stay there, when I could get out?"

"You wouldn't have had to kill anyone!"

Tom threw his head back and laughed, a strangely high, cold laugh that Harry had never heard from him before. "You think she's the only person I've ever killed?"

"I- what?"

"The real question is, how many have you killed? How many lives have you ruined, Harry, all unknowing?"

"I haven't-!"

"But what counts as ruining a life? People you personally killed? People who died because of your actions? Or inactions? What of those left to mourn?" He took a step closer to Harry, bringing him within arm's reach. "You think yourself innocent? How many have you ruined? Do you even know?"

"I haven't done anything!"

Tom shoved him, but then grabbed his shirt; pulling him closer. "But you don't think of that, do you? You've been told that you are good and people like me are bad; that everything is black and white and there is no compromise. But I know."

Harry turned his face from Tom's, not wanting to look him in the eye. Tom allowed it, letting his cheek brush against Harry's as he whispered in his ear. "We are the same, you and I. You just don't know it yet."

Harry shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, frantically denying everything Tom was saying. The older boy tutted and chucked him under the chin. "It's ok, Harry. At least yours were an accident. Mostly."

"I have NEVER-"

"What about Quirrell?"

Harry blinked helplessly as Tom took a step back, smirking. "What about-?"

"Did he need to die, Harry? Did you need to press your hands into his face, his neck, his eyes? How did it feel, burning someone with just a touch? At what point did you realize that he was dead? How long did you keep pushing your hands into his sizzling flesh? When was it enough?"

"I didn't- I passed out. I don't remember-"

"But I know, Harry. I've been there. In your mind, in that memory. I felt your satisfaction, the thrill, at being able to hurt him. Did he deserve it?"

"Voldemort-"

"I'm not asking about the Dark Lord. I am asking about Quirrell. Did he deserve to die?"

"I-"

"Did he?!" Tom shouted, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and shaking him. Releasing him mid shake, he watched Harry rock on his feet and almost fall over. He calmly waited until the boy looked up at him, tears in his eyes, before continuing, "I can't say whether he deserved it or not, Harry. Only you can decide that. Not Dumbledore. Not your little friends. Just you."

"He- But he-"

"Just think about it. Whenever you feel yourself to be above others, blameless, remember this conversation and really think about it."

Harry nodded numbly, far more exhausted than he felt he should be.

Tom lightly ran the back of his fingers along his jaw up into his hair. He stroked Harry's hair, not bothering to try flattening it, and just watched himself do it. After a few moments, he stopped and cupped Harry's cheek. "I can touch you."

"Yeah?" Harry smacked Tom's hand away. "So?"

"It doesn't matter." Tom shrugged, looking away finally. He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and then abruptly turned back to Harry. "Would you like to see the basilisk?"

"I thought you'd decided you didn't want to kill me?" Harry snarked, taking a nervous step back.

Tom smiled. "She won't hurt you if I don't tell her to."

"You control her?"

"I never got to finish my story earlier," Tom pointed out, bouncing on his toes in excitement. "She's beautiful, Harry. Let me show you?"

"Won't just looking at her kill me? Pretty sure you said that."

"I can tell her to close her eyes. How else do you think I've been able to see her?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Knowing you, you're immune or something."

"No, just careful," Tom said, a genuine smile on his face. "Do you want to see her or not?"

"I mean…" Harry tried to look back over at Ginny's body, but Tom stepped in the way with a challenging scowl on his face.

"Ignore her for now. We'll get back to that soon enough. Do you want-"

"Yeah, sure, Tom. Show me the giant snake."

Tom practically giggled, alarming Harry, before giving him a stern look. "Close your eyes, and keep them closed until I say you can open them."

"You said-"

"You can trust me with this, Harry. I've told you more than once that I don't want you dead, and I have meant it every time."

Harry held eye contact for several moments, willing Tom's dark eyes to blink, before conceding and closing his eyes.

Tom's footsteps moved away from him, towards where Ginny lay.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

The sound of stone grinding somewhere above him made Harry flinch, but he stayed still and kept his eyes closed. The ground shaking thump that came after made him yelp in surprise, and he felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Close your eyes, beautiful one, and let the boy touch you."

His breath came in jagged little gasps, hearing something large moving towards him, but he squeezed his eyes as tightly closed as possible, covering them with his hands for extra protection, and stood his ground. Tom didn't want him dead. Tom didn't want him dead. Tom-

He jumped when his hands were tugged away from his face. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry let himself be led a few feet over. His hand was gently set on something smooth and scaled. It lifted up and down, breathing he assumed, but stayed still other than that. Tom's hands left his, and Harry tentatively stroked the basilisk on his own. The skin was lightly pebbled, places where the scales were not as smooth sticking out to catch on his rough hands, and cool to the touch. He slowly opened his eyes, lifting the lids little by little, to finally see what he was touching.

"She is beautiful," Harry eventually agreed, letting himself look away from the specific stretch of skin he was touching to admire the rest of the basilisk. There was a lot to admire. She was bigger around than he was tall, and so long that he couldn't see her tail from his place close to her neck.

"Look at her head," Tom whispered behind him, stirring the hairs on the back of his neck.

Rubbing a hand over his neck, Harry stepped away and craned his head back to see the head. He had to take another step back, then another, in order to finally see it. It looked like a normal snake head, with sharp ridges protruding above the eyes like eyebrows. Her eyes were shut tight, and she seemed calm and content.

Tom placed a hand on his shoulder. "If she were male, she would have a red feather on top of her head. Similar to a rooster."

"That's how you know it's a girl?"

"Yes."

"Does she have a name?"

"None that she will tell me," Tom answered with a frown. "I may be the heir of Slytherin, but I am still only a halfblood."

"She cares about that?"

"Slytherin imprinted a hatred of Muggleborns in her. I don't know how she can tell who is pure and who is not, but she knew I was a halfblood when I found her."

"And she was… ok wi-"

"No. She fought me. She has always fought me. She is angry now, because I haven't set her free on the school like I promised I would fifty years ago."

"You promised what?!"

"It isn't something people talk about, I'm assuming, but fifty years ago I did release her to fulfill Slytherin's purpose. She only killed one student before they threatened to close the school." Tom stepped away to run a hand down the length of her neck. "This place was my home. My only real home. I couldn't risk losing it."

"She KILLED someone?!"

Tom scratched a rough patch on the basilisk's neck, and she leaned into it. He huffed a laugh and smiled at Harry. "It's in her nature, her breeding, her purpose. There is no right or wrong with her."

"There's right or wrong with you, though."

"What is right and what is wrong is a very subjective topic, Harry."

"Killing people is wrong!"

Tom shrugged. "Some people need to die."

"But students! And only because they are Muggleborns?!"

"I have been thinking about that."

"About what? Killing people?"

Tom waved a hand dismissively, "I don't care about that-"

"That's obvious," Harry interrupted, turning to look at Ginny. He pointed a finger at her before turning back and glaring at Tom. "Do you care about her? Does Ginny matter?"

"I always intended to kill her. Her usefulness was only to be a means to open the Chamber and to gain a body. Then I learned about you, about what you had done, and knew I had to meet you."

"What I had done? Me?"

"Yes." Tom smiled, tight and secretive. "What an amazing talent you must be, to defeat such a powerful wizard as an infant."

"Disappointed?" Harry taunted.

"Yes and no." Tom laughed. "You are both more and less than I expected. And I found my plans changing."

"Changing?"

"I didn't care about the Chamber anymore, about Slytherin's mandate." He paused and looked at Harry's belligerent expression. "I found myself wanting to talk to you, to share with you. I offered to tutor you, to mentor you. I wanted to spend more time with you, for you to choose me over your friends. And you did."

"I did not! I-"

"Did you miss me? When I was gone? I felt your reluctance when you gave the diary to Ginny."

Harry frowned and looked away, refusing to answer.

"I missed you," Tom admitted softly. "I didn't want to talk to the silly girl, and she didn't want me. It took longer than either of us wanted for me to get the necessary link to her. To connect with her. Do you know what that connection was?"

"No, Tom, and I don't care!"

Tom chuckled quietly and looked at Ginny for the first time. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. She wanted you to know, though, that she loved you. With all her eleven year old heart."

"I don't want to hear-"

"You would take that away from her, Harry? These were her last words, her last thoughts. And you would deny them?"

"Her last-? She's-?"

"She's dead now, yes."

"How could- She can't be-" Harry gave up on words and started slinging spells again.

Tom blocked or dodged them all, drawing Harry away from the basilisk. "Do not defend me. Stay where you are."

Harry froze for a moment, horrified that he had forgotten the danger at his back, and that moment was enough for Tom to bind him with a quick 'incarcerus.'

"Harry, Harry. So brave, so brash. You should have let the hat sort you into Slytherin; they would have taught you subtlety, and the value of thinking before you act."

Bound in dark cords from his shoulders down, Harry glowered up at him. "I would never be a Slytherin. I'm not evil like-"

"Not all Slytherins are evil, Harry, just as not all Gryffindors are brave." Tom laughed. "That's not the comparison to make, I suppose; equating the main virtue of Gryffindor to a potential downfall of Slytherin. Causation doesn't equal correlation, though that point likely goes above your head."

He crouched down next to Harry and ruffled his hair, chuckling when the boy tried to shake him off. "Ambition and cunning; the virtues of house Slytherin. They are not inherently evil. Hermione is ambitious, with her fair share of cunning. You don't think she's evil, though."

"Hermione would NEVER-"

"I believe there is a lot that girl is capable of, much of which you wouldn't approve," Tom said, watching Harry's face contort in rage, "You are capable of much more than you strive for as well. You could do great things, Harry. You could outshine the happy coincidence of your defeat of the Dark Lord. You could truly earn your fame."

"I don't want-"

"I know," Tom interrupted patiently, "I know you don't want to be famous. You want a normal, boring life. You want to settle down somewhere, surrounded by people who love you, and live a simple, happy life."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Harry insisted, still glaring.

Tom shrugged. "For some people. It feels like a waste when someone with potential lets it lie stagnant."

He stood and went to the basilisk, leaving Harry lying on the cold stone floor. Stroking down her neck again, Tom patted her a final time before moving out of her way. "Be free, beautiful one. Leave the castle. Go to the forest. Live there in peace until I come for you again. This I command."

The basilisk stayed in place for a moment, seemingly processing his command, and then spoke. "My purpose is not yet complete. There live abominations here still."

"You have grown so much, so quickly. Soon you will not be able to leave the Chamber. Go now, while you can."

"I thank you, master," she said after another pause. Her head swung towards Harry, and he clamped his eyes shut. "I will await your return. Again."

Scales slid along the floor, the soft hiss swiftly growing fainter before disappearing. He hesitantly opened his eyes to find Tom leaning against one of the pillars. The older boy turned, wiping tears from his cheeks, before noticing Harry's regard. He waved a hand and the cords dissolved. "You can be free as well, I suppose."

Harry sat up and rubbed his arms. The chill from the stone had seeped into his body, and he shivered as the parts of him that had been falling asleep woke back up. "The forest? You sent her to the forest?"

"There isn't anywhere better to send her for the moment. I will look for something when I leave here." Tom shrugged, turning to stare at the tunnel the basilisk had disappeared into. He swiped an arm across his face angrily and faced Harry. "The halfbreed will likely find and befriend her, though. He has a way with dangerous animals."

"Halfbreed? Who?"

"The giant oaf, Hagrid."

"He's not a-!"

"He's half giant, Harry. He's literally a halfbreed." Tom scoffed and then mused, "Perhaps that is why they like him so much?"

"You can't just-"

"It doesn't matter, Harry," Tom interrupted. He paused and took in Harry's face before sighing and approaching him. "Now that that has been dealt with, though, it's time to wrap things up."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, taking a step back for every one Tom took towards him. "What do you have planned?"

"Well now… Now it is time for you to make an important decision, Harry."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Why? What am I deciding?" Harry angrily asked, flinching when his foot hit Ginny's body. He stared down at the little form, sprawled out gracelessly where Tom had left her.

"You see, there are many things that have happened this year, tonight in particular, that I do not want known."

"You can't make me-!" Harry shouted, looking away from Ginny to glare viciously at the older boy.

"I can and I will," Tom said, stopping a few feet away. "You can either make a pact with me, or I will obliviate you."

"You will what?"

"Obliviate. I will erase the memories I don't want you to tell, plant a few fake ones, and then 'imperio' you back to your room."

"Imper-?"

Tom laughed. "You really know so little. I forget at times. Imperio. I will take control of your body, and you will do whatever I say."

"You can't-"

"I can, I have, and I will do so again, if need be," Tom said firmly. His face was carefully impassive, save for a slight downwards tilt to his mouth. "I would prefer to not do any of that to you, however. It would be a waste of everything we have accomplished this year. And I hate waste."

"What's the other option?" Harry asked after a pregnant pause.

"A blood pact. We will swear to not reveal anything that happened tonight, and to discuss it only with each other. If you even think about breaking the pact, it will cause you extreme pain."

"I don't like either of those options."

Tom chuckled. "I wouldn't either, were I in your position."

Frowning, Harry glanced down at Ginny again. Dead because of him. A flicker of silver caught his attention, and Harry recognized his invisibility cloak lying next to the little girl. He must have left it there when he first discovered her.

"So which is it, Harry? We don't have too much more time."

Harry's answer was to dive for his cloak and duck behind the statue. Covering himself with it, he pressed his shoulders flush to the wall and held his breath.

"Ah yes. The invisibility cloak. Such a wonderful creation, is it not?" Tom said, calmly turning around the statue and glancing around. "I wonder how effective it will be at hiding you from me?"

Harry stayed where he was, not willing to risk moving while Tom was still so close. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead. A drop ran down the side of his face as the older boy paused next to him.

"You know, all I have to do is wait in the tunnel. You won't be able to get past without stepping on any of the rodent carcasses. It'll be easy enough to catch you."

Harry wanted to retort with 'Not if I jinx you first' but wasn't sure if he could land anything on Tom even with the advantage of being invisible. He couldn't cast wordlessly yet, and just that would be enough to alert the older boy. He had to try something, though. He couldn't let Tom win.

"Harry, Harry. There's so much we can do together. You have so much potential. I would take you with me now, but you just don't know enough to be anything other than a burden. You're too young, too naive, for what I want from you."

And what about what I want? Harry thought furiously. He hated that he had believed them to be friends. Was disgusted that he had missed Tom when he was gone. But mostly he was mortified that he had thought this boy like him, had thought he had finally found someone who understood.

Tom placed a hand on the wall to Harry's left. His fingers slowly trailed along the stone, towards Harry, and the boy realized that Tom knew he was there. Elbowing him in the gut, Harry took off for another pillar.

He ducked out of sight behind it, pulled the cloak up to fully cover him, and then tried to quietly walk away. A kick to the ankle sent him to his knees, though, and Tom tackled him the rest of the way down.

"Did you know" Tom hissed, dodging the elbow Harry swung towards him, and wrapping the cloak tight around his flailing arms, "if you know to look for it, that your ankles can be seen when you move?"

Arms now pinned to his side, Harry frantically kicked backwards. Tom managed to roll them over after fighting for several minutes. This resulted in Harry being facedown with his arms at his sides. Tom was on top of him with one knee planted in the middle of his back and the other on the ground next to them.

"Harry," Tom said through gritted teeth, "you are making this more difficult than it needs to be."

Harry's response was to buck up, trying to force the older boy off, but Tom shifted to straddle him instead. It was hard to breathe with the cloak over his face and Tom's full weight on his chest.

Tom shifted his weight, leaning forward, and pulled the cape off of Harry's head. He pressed the tip of his wand to the boy's temple and harshly whispered, "Make your choice, Harry, before I make it for you. Will you swear to keep my secrets, and so retain your memories, or will you make me take them from you?"

"Fuck you, Tom!" Harry yelled while wiggling from side to side.

"Make your choice, or I will start taking memories." Tom smacked his head. He leaned forward again and whispered, "What will I take? What will I let you keep? Perhaps I will take all the bad memories away? Hmm? You will be left alone, lonely, missing me. And how happy you will be to see me again, your long lost friend, when I come back for you?"

Harry frantically shook his head. "Don't you dare!"

"But why not? What's to stop me, Harry? What's to stop me from twisting what is already there? You are fond of me-"

"I am not! You-"

"-perhaps not so fond currently, though I'm sure we can overcome that with time. But you did like me, did enjoy my company, did miss me. So what's the harm in leaving that behind, when I take this memory away? Without all the unpleasantness of what has happened tonight, you would have no reason to hate me."

"Tom…"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Don't do it."

Tom sighed and sat back, alleviating some of the pressure on Harry's chest. "I don't want to. I want you to remember. I want you to rage at me, to hate me, and to then come to terms with it. I want us to move past this-"

"We won't. I'll hate you forever."

"You say that so ardently, and yet…"

"Yet nothing! I don't know what you want from me, but-"

"I'm not entirely sure what I want either," Tom admitted quietly. "I will have time to decide that no matter your decision, though. This is all for you, Harry. Do you want to remember, or do you want to forget?"

Harry tried to buck the older boy off again, but Tom just sat forward and let more of his weight fall on Harry's chest. Lightheaded, struggling to breathe, the boy finally rasped, "I want to remember."

Tom immediately got off and helped Harry to his feet. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Harry shook his head, not sure whether he was agreeing with him or denying it, and stared at the stone floor. "What do we need to do?"

"I would have preferred an Unbreakable Vow, but that requires a third person as witness. We don't have one here, and I wouldn't want anyone else knowing anyway."

"What's-?"

"An Unbreakable Vow is a binding magical contract that, if someone was to break the vow, would result in their death."

"Why would anyone do that?"

"Why are you agreeing to this?"

Harry scowled and didn't answer.

"We, however, are going to make a blood pact instead."

"And what does that do? Boil our blood if we break it?"

Tom chuckled. "Nothing so extreme. It will be painful if you even think of breaking the pact, and could kill you if you actually try."

"So how do we do this?"

"First, we cut our hands with our wands," Tom said, holding out his already bleeding hand.

Harry grudgingly held his hand out and pointed his wand at it. "How do I make it cut?"

Tom sighed. "Use diffindo."

"Diffindo," Harry muttered, wincing when a slice appeared in his palm. "Now what?"

"Repeat after me," Tom grabbed Harry's hand and pressed their palms together. Entwining their fingers, he solemnly said, "I swear to never speak of this night, of all that has happened in this room, to anyone but you."

"I swear to never speak of this night, of all that has happened in this room, to anyone but you," Harry grudgingly repeated. He gasped when two drops of blood suddenly appeared from their clasped hands and floated above them. They twirled in circular patterns together before finally merging to form a red stone.

Tugging his hand free, Harry leaned forward to examine their creation. Swirls of gold spiraled through the dull red stone, which was slightly smaller than a snitch. Moments after that, intricately detailed silver snakes slithered around it before locking in place as two distinct ouroboros.

"Curious," Tom said quietly, catching the pendant as it gently floated towards him. He reverently held it up in the green tinged light.

"What?"

"The ouroboros."

"The what?"

"Ask Hermione. I'm tired of answering basic questions." Tom sighed as he pocketed it.

"If it was basic, I'd know it."

Tom scoffed and walked towards the entrance. "Come on."

Harry didn't move. "What about Ginny?"

"What about her?"

"We can't just leave-"

Tom turned around and glared. "Yes, we can and we will leave her."

"I'm not leaving her," Harry insisted, walking back to her body. He was bent over trying to figure out how to pick up and carry her when Tom appeared.

He leaned against the statue and watched Harry struggle. "Are you going to carry her all the way back, Harry? How are you going to get her through the pipes?"

"You know a better way to get back to the school." Grunting, he managed to gather her into his arms and stand. His knees buckled and he swayed for a moment before regaining his balance.

"I do," Tom agreed, not moving from the statue, "but I'm not going to take you there. If you insist on bringing her along, then you will do it the hard way."

"Why do you have to be like this, Tom?" Harry pleaded, shifting Ginny's body in his arms as she began to slip, "Why can't we take her back to her family? We can't just leave her here!"

"And how will you explain her death?" Tom asked patiently, examining his now healed palm. "You can't tell anyone what happened here. Will you lie?"

Harry lost his grip on the girl and had to frantically grab her around the shoulder to keep her from falling to the ground. "I'll think of something! Just, please, please let me take her back."

"No. Convince me that you can come up with an explanation that won't hurt you."

"Won't hurt me?"

"Yes. Remember, the pact will cause you pain for even thinking of telling someone. You will need to think of something plausible that has nothing to do with the truth."

"I don't- I mean, I-"

Tom sighed. "I don't care about her body either way, but it seems you are determined-"

"I am," Harry cut in, holding Ginny's body close to him. "We can't leave her, Tom. We can't."

"Then I suppose I will deal with her."

"Deal with? What does that-?"

"Imperio."

-

Harry woke in his bed the next morning with an aching head and a sense of dread. Pulling the blankets back, he noted that he was in clean pajamas but was still grimy with sweat and slime under them. He rolled over and opened his bed curtains. Everyone else seemed to be sleeping.

Getting out of bed, he made his way to the bathroom and prepared to scrub himself raw. He was putting on fresh clothes when Ron appeared. The redhead sleepily waved before going to the toilet. It felt like time stopped, like his heart was collapsing in on itself, when he realized that his best friend's little sister was dead. And it was his fault.

Not able to stay in the same room as Ron, Harry finished clothing himself and made his way to the common room. Hermione was hogging one of the tables; books and notes and scrolls covered nearly the entire surface. Harry glanced at the clock. It was nine in the morning on a Saturday.

Hermione looked away from her book, spotted him, and let her frown fade into a small smile. "Good morning, Harry. You're up early. Sleep well?"

"Sure," he muttered, pushing a book out of the way so he could join her. He didn't feel rested. Whatever sleep he had gotten didn't seem to have done him much good. "Hey, what's an ouroboros?"

She blinked, and then smiled eagerly. "An ouroboros is a symbol of a snake or a dragon biting its tail. It was used in Greek and Egyptian mythology to represent the cyclical renewal of life, death, and rebirth."

"Ah," Harry said, resting his head on the table. That sounded like something Tom would like.

"In some religions," Hermione continued, completely oblivious to Harry's inattention, "it is a fertility symbol, with the head representing-"

"Anyone seen Ginny?" Neville asked, wringing his hands, "We're supposed to meet before breakfast."

"It's only nine," Ron said with a yawn, appearing to Harry's right. He shoved some scrolls off the table, enraging Hermione, and they began to bicker.

Ginny is dead, Harry wanted to say. He hissed in pain as his left arm cramped.

"You alright, Harry?" Hermione inquired, ignoring Ron's continued complaining.

He waved off her concern. "Just a cramp."

She frowned before diving back into the argument.

Head down on the table, Harry waited for the eventual discovery. Though he didn't know what that discovery would be. Had Tom moved her body out of the Chamber? If so, where had he put her? Harry didn't want to think about her being left down there to rot, while her family and friends searched for her.

He'd go back for her if he had to, Harry decided. He'd sworn to not talk about what had happened in the chamber last night, but had not promised to stay away from it.

"Ginny-!"

"-something wrong-"

"-won't wake up-"

"Someone go for help!" Percy cried, clutching the railing leading to the girls' dormitory. Frantically searching for someone to assist him, he spotted the twins just now coming down the stairs. "Fred! George! It's Ginny!"

"What about Ginny?"

"What's going on?"

Ron shoved the table out of the way in his haste to get to his brothers. Hermione's chair fell backwards, but the girl had gotten to her feet as soon as Ron pushed past her.

She wound her way through the growing crowd to get to the Weasleys. The remaining Weasleys. Harry sighed and turned his head to face the fireplace. He knew he should get up, that it would be strange for him to not be there with the rest of them, but he just didn't have the energy.

"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall shouted from the portrait entrance. She had to wade through the churning mass of students all clamoring to know what was happening. Finally reaching Percy, her face went ashen at whatever he said before she charged up the stairs.

Hermione was openly sobbing by the time she made it back to the table. "Harry. Ginny- She, she-"

He gave a tired nod and she sank into the chair next to him, burying her face in his jumper. They were still sitting like that when Dumbledore arrived. His eyes drifted from student to student before focusing on Harry.

He couldn't stand looking the headmaster in the eye, knowing what he knew and being unable to say anything, and so he dropped his head onto Hermione's and closed his eyes.

The Gryffindors were quickly ushered from the common room into the great hall, the Weasleys separated out from the rest, where they idled among the baffled students from the other houses.

"What did you do now, Potter?" Malfoy taunted from the Slytherin table. "Kill any other teachers? Where's Lockhart?"

"He didn't do anything!" Hermione yelled, struggling to get at the Slytherin table. Neville pulled her back, and the three of them sat at the end of the Gryffindor table.

Neville had tear tracks on his face to match Hermione's. Harry couldn't cry. He couldn't help but agree with Hermione. He hadn't done anything. He had let Tom kill Ginny. He had let Tom bind him. He had let Tom go.

Head down on the table, face buried in his arms, Harry longed to not know anything about this. He wished he didn't remember Ginny's body sprawled on the ground. The way Tom smiled when he got his way. How it felt to be trapped and helpless, struggling to breathe while Tom waited him out. Most of all, Harry wished he could forget how much he had missed the boy he thought was his friend, or how much his fingers still itched to pick up the diary. He hated that he wanted Tom there to comfort him.

Someone wrapped an arm around one side of him, and then another snaked around the other side. Popping his head up and opening his eyes, Harry found himself squashed between Neville and Hermione. Each of them had an arm around him. And it hurt. It hurt that they were comforting him.

The tears came then, and he quickly burrowed into his arms again before someone like Malfoy could see. He could feel his sobs echoed on either side of him. Hermione's came faster, with little muffled gasps. Neville's shook his whole body, and Harry's, and it felt like he would choke at any moment.

And Harry realized that he needed to remember this. He needed to remember what Tom had done. Without those memories, all he would have left of Tom were good things. And Ginny's sacrifice would be in vain. He had to remember that she died, for him and for Tom, so that he could make Tom pay for it later.

Her last thoughts had been full of love for him, so Tom said, and Harry swore he would earn that devotion. He would be better. He would be the best. And no one would ever die for him again.