Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.

Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas Umar, Luq707, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their work on this story.

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Recommendations:

Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man.

Harry Potter and The Boy-Who-Lived by The Santi.

Growing Up Black by ElvindorkNigellus.

The Hero and The Veela by JackPotter.

Stepping Back, and Honour Thy Blood by TheBlack'sResurgence.

The Mind Arts by Wu Gang.

A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned.

Magicks of The Arcane by Eilyfe.

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

Parseltongue.

Memories/In Story Text.

Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100.

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows.

Chapter 19: Checkmate.

February 14, 1993

The Second Floor Girl's Bathroom

11:57 PM

Hermione Granger was thoroughly annoyed. Not only had it been an exceptionally long day, with Professor Lockhart's Valentine's Day festivities serving as a major distraction for the majority of said day, but she had just been woken up by an extremely persistent owl scratching on the window of her dormitory. When she had opened the window and admitted the creature inside, she had removed the note with a frown of worry. It was a note from Ginny. One asking rather urgently to meet in the same bathroom that they once brewed Polyjuice Potion in.

Hermione's immediate reaction was to not go. After all, a full curfew was in effect. Breaking the rules was not a practice Hermione was well-versed in, let alone getting caught for breaking said rules. But Ginny was her friend; her only friend, really. It was true that Hermione was rather suspicious by now. She had put together, by this point, that the diary was in some way influencing Ginny. To what extent, Hermione wasn't sure, but she had slowly been putting the pieces together in the past few days. Now, with a chance to confront Ginny about it and hopefully get some closure on the topic, she could not resist.

That was the sequence of events that led to Hermione Granger standing outside the girl's bathroom with an odd feeling of foreboding. Pushing it to the side, Hermione slid open the bathroom door and stepped inside.

Then, a second later, she froze in awestruck shock and terror.

There, both seated against the far wall, seemingly bound and unconscious were Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas. There was a fair bit of blood trickling from a wound on Ron's hairline, but aside from that, the two of them looked untouched. Her attention was caught when the door she had just walked through slammed forcefully closed and she heard the lock click. With terror in her heart and a horrific realization slowly coming together in her mind, Hermione methodically turned to face the only other figure in the room.

"Ginny?"

"Good evening, Hermione." Ginny's voice was still her own, but it was very clear she was not in control of herself. It was what Hermione had noticed before, but so much worse. Before the disappearance of her diary, Ginny had been confident and well-spoken, for the most part. After it had vanished, she had changed completely. Only when the change happened did Hermione realize that something may have been wrong. Now, what she knew to be the irregularities in Ginny were turned up to eleven.

"You're not Ginny, are you?" Hermione asked in a slightly shaky voice.

Ginny smiled. "You're too clever, Hermione. Far too clever for your own good, at least."

"What have you done to Ron and Dean?"

"Nothing yet." Ginny said calmly. "For now, they're only stunned. That will change soon enough, but they are in perfect health for the time being."

"It was you then, wasn't it?" Hermione asked, terrified. It was not the first time the thought had crossed her mind. Ginny had seemed far too prodigious for a first year student. Then, the diary had gone missing and Hermione had realized she was being magically manipulated in one way or another.

"And that, Hermione, is exactly why I can't just let you walk away. You see, I had a plan that involved Ginny giving up her little diary for the time being. When it didn't go as I had hoped, I needed to get it back to her. That only happened tonight, and I just so happened to notice a conversation you had with Ginny in the common room. You were onto the truth even then, Hermione, you just weren't ready to admit it to yourself. Still, after what's going to happen tonight, I can't leave any loose ends who know more than they should."

"But why?" Hermione asked. "Why are you doing this? Petrifying all of the students? Who even are you?"

"My name is not important to you." Whoever was controlling Ginny dismissed. "Your other questions are more interesting, though. I'll confess, Hermione, I don't really care about petrifying mudbloods or professors. They were all pawns to get to my final play. Unfortunately for you, it will play out while you're… indisposed."

Hermione could sense the attack coming, so she scrambled for her wand, admittedly not too well-read in curses and defenses. She was a very good Defense Against The Dark Arts student, but other subjects had always interested her more. And naively, she had always assumed that she would never end up in a position quite like the one she found herself in now.

Before she could draw her wand, however, Hermione was hit in the back with a jet of red light. As she fell, the figure of a handsome man with blonde hair and blue eyes flickered for an instant, as the movement caused his disillusionment charm to falter.

Some time later, in the Gryffindor dorms…

Harry did not react for almost a full minute as he stared at the writing on the wall. His first action was to briefly scan the contents scattered on the floor as he did his best to maintain a clear mind and ignore the fact that his heart seemed to be putting in an admirable effort at beating straight through his chest.

To say that he was horrified when he realized that Riddle's diary was gone would be an understatement.

But to say he was surprised would have been a blatant hyperbole.

How they had broken the enchantment necessitating a Parseltongue password was beyond him, but Harry somehow wasn't surprised the diary was what the Heir of Slytherin had wanted.

Least of all now, as the pieces came together in his mind.

Harry actually let out a scream of frustration and rage as he grabbed the nearest textbook and hurled it at the wall as hard as he could. Seamus Finnigan had clearly been put under some sort of sleeping spell, for he did not so much as move as the book slammed loudly off the wall.

"H-Harry?" Neville asked, voice shaking as he regained enough control to speak.

"It's my fault." Harry whispered, terrified and overwhelmed by self-hatred. "I'm such an idiot! I should've seen it… I could've stopped it — all of it."

"Harry!" Neville said in a louder, more clear voice. "What is going on? What are you talking about?"

"The diary, Neville." Harry uttered in a toneless sort of voice. "That's what's been doing it the whole time."

Neville blinked. "What?"

"Fifty years ago, Tom Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets and framed Hagrid, getting off scot free. Obviously, we knew that already. But I didn't see the connection! Riddle's diary used Legilimency… or something like it, I think. Flamel told me at Christmas that Legilimency can be used to alter the mind of another person and even influence their actions. Riddle was so worried that I saw through his memory because it's been him the whole time! That's how Dumbledore knew the Heir was a he, but he couldn't tell me that because of contracts with the stupid Ministry. Somehow, a student got their hands on Riddle's diary. He's been controlling them all year through the diary. Which means..." he paused. Obviously, Riddle must be the Heir of Slytherin, and therefore a Parselmouth. There had been a moment when Harry's mind had connected the dots, and he had been sure that Riddle had used that ability to bypass the ward on his trunk.

But that couldn't be right.

It seemed, at least to Harry, that Riddle was confined to the diary unless he had somebody to control. While locked in Harry's trunk, there was no possible way he could have controlled anybody with mind magic and forced them to somehow use Parseltongue.

Which meant…

"And he's got help, of some kind. My trunk was warded and had a Parseltongue password. Nobody's a Parselmouth here except me and him, but he was locked in the diary, which was locked in my trunk, so obviously, it couldn't be him. Somebody who knows how to break wards is helping him. Or… or he's got someone under the Imperius Curse or something and can still control them while inside the diary."

"How do you know all of this?" Neville asked, astonished.

"I… actually don't know." Harry admitted, realizing that this was one of many times that a number of dots had simply come together in his mind. Perhaps he was just some sort of deductive genius? "But it doesn't matter." He dismissed, actually slumping to his knees and burying his head in his hands. "I had the diary! I could've stopped it all right then! I should've got rid of it, destroyed it, given it to a Professor like I'd planned… something! Now, the bastard has Ron and Dean and it's my fault — all of it! When will people stop getting hurt because of me? My parents, you, Augusta, now Dean and Ron. When will it stop!?"

There was a long moment of silence in which Harry allowed himself to remain slumped and defeated on the floor. For his part, Neville's brain was in overdrive, making sure he'd understood everything his friend had laid out correctly. Then, after a minute or so had passed, Neville's jaw set in a line of resoluteness. With calm, measured steps, Neville made his way towards his friend and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. He frowned at the way Harry flinched, but he did not remove his hand.

"I don't know when it'll stop, Harry." He said honestly. "But it can at least be paused if this Heir of Slytherin is stopped. Come on, we can do this! You've figured all of this out; we're almost there. We just need a little bit more. If anyone can do it, it's you."

Harry took about twenty seconds to compose himself. Twenty seconds to allow himself just a few more moments of weakness. Then, with one last deep breath and a stiff nod, Harry climbed back up to his feet and Neville could have flinched backwards. The ever present emerald light that seemed to forever dance behind Harry's eyes seemed to be flickering like a flame. Plus, the light itself seemed to have been turned up a notch. It appeared as if Harry's eyes would burn straight out of his skull at any moment.

"Okay..." he muttered, "okay, think Potter, think. We know Riddle is the Heir of Slytherin. We know he's been controlling students with the diary. That means that honestly, it doesn't matter which student it is, so we don't have to worry about that until we're done with Riddle. So that means… two more things to figure out. Where the Chamber of Secrets is, and what the monster of Slytherin is. Personally, I don't like our odds in a fight if we don't even know what we're fighting until we get there."

"Agreed." Neville said. "Your first question's been answered though, I think."

Harry blinked. "Um… what? Haven't Headmasters and Headmistresses failed to find this Chamber for centuries?"

"Well yeah," admitted Neville, who seemed almost eerily calm under the oppressive pressure of this situation, "but they didn't have this." He gestured at the wall and Harry reread the message.

"I don't get it." He murmured.

"He's killed a muggleborn already." Neville said. "And SHE still inhabits the castle. Don't you remember Parvati going on about how annoying that ghost was that haunted the girl's toilet? Don't you remember how she said it made no sense why she was in the castle?"

Harry actually slammed his hand against his forehead in annoyance. "Damn!" He cursed. "It all makes sense! She haunts the bathroom on the second floor, doesn't she?" Neville nodded. "That's the same floor we found the spiders on. Which would make perfect sense, if they're running from whatever monster is in the Chamber." He paused. "But… how the hell do we figure that part out? It would take ages to find all the information in the library."

"I think I've got that part covered too." Neville said, actually smiling a rather proud smile. When Harry looked bemused, Neville just rolled his eyes. "Honestly, for how smart you are, you really need to get better at using everything you can. The Room of Requirement, Harry!"

Harry's jaw actually fell agape. It was true. Last year, when he'd needed specific information, the room had actually presented him with books on that exact information. Apparently, whatever deductive genius ability he had was used up for the night. "This is going to be a long night." He muttered, snatching the cloak and throwing it over top of himself and Neville. "A REALLY long night."

An hour later, in the Room of Requirement…

Harry was white as a sheet as he looked down at the cross-referenced information he and Neville had in front of them.

The giant spiders, as it turned out, did not fear much.

In fact, it seemed they were only widely known to fear one creature…

A basilisk.

A fucking basilisk!

A massive snake that had scales capable of resisting almost any kind of magic. A snake that could grow up to fifty feet long. A snake who's venom would kill a witch or wizard within a minute of injection. And a snake who could kill anything and everything with a glance.

"We're dead." Neville muttered, finally seeming to accept the reality of the situation. "How the hell are we going to beat that? Even if we get McGonagall, what is she gonna do against something like that?"

It seemed that tonight, the momentum seemed to switch between Harry and Neville. Now, it appeared as though it was Harry's turn to boost his friend's confidence.

"We have an advantage McGonagall doesn't have." Harry noted.

Neville gaped at Harry. "Oh yeah?" He asked in a rather high voice.

"Basilisks are notorious for being easily controlled by Parselmouths." Harry read aloud.

Neville looked up sharply. "You reckon-"

"That I can completely control it? No, probably not. Me and Riddle will probably both be battling for control of the thing. It might actually side with him if he's the Heir of Slytherin. But I don't need too long. I'll go in and you'll be under the cloak, behind me. Not even the human detection spell can pick up the cloak. I'll distract Riddle and if he calls the snake, I'll confuse the living daylights out of it with Parseltongue, at the very least. It'll be up to you to get to Riddle, or the diary. I'm not sure if we'll have to beat whoever he's controlling, or destroy the diary, or what. Might not hurt to do both, honestly."

"And we're not going to get McGonagall because…"

"Two reasons. One, we probably can't. The professors have all warded their quarters since Snape was attacked. At least, that's what the twins told me and I trust them on stuff like that. Even if we could, it wouldn't be any good. McGonagall would never let me go down there. Without a Parselmouth, she'd be dead, almost for sure." He paused. "Three reasons, actually. If she finds out a basilisk is under the school, she'll probably order it to be closed tomorrow."

Neville sighed. "I'm gonna say this one more time tonight, and then we're gonna do this because at this point, I'm so beyond thinking with my brain. I don't like this… not at all."

Minutes later, on the second floor…

As quietly as the pair could manage, Harry and Neville entered the girl's bathroom on the second floor. Immediately, Harry wished he'd actually asked Gabrielle how to cast the human presence revealing charm, not just to specify what it was. He had the unmistakable feeling that they were being watched, though he knew that while the two of them stayed under the cloak, they could not be spotted.

Unfortunately, this exploration was going to require that at least one of them stepped out.

Harry decided that if they were going to get attacked, he would have a better chance in open combat than Neville. So it was he who stepped out from under the cloak of invisibility and immediately raised his wand as he peered curiously around the room.

Nothing happened.

Tentatively, Harry began to examine the room more closely. At first, he was having no success. There was just too much to look for. Raising his wand, Harry silently cast the Muffliato charm on the room, intent on calling for the ghost of Moaning Myrtle. Before he could call her, however, it was Neville who cried out.

"Harry, behind you!"

Instinctively, Harry rolled, allowing the well aimed stunner to miss him by inches. When he rolled up to his feet, he noticed a distortion in the air.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Harry's well-aimed spell countered the disillusionment charm, revealing Gilderoy Lockhart with a rather blank expression as he raised his wand to attack once more. Harry deflected Lockhart's full-body-bind and countered with a chain of spells of his own. Lockhart deflected or blocked them all without issue and Harry's eyes narrowed. He was certain Lockhart was a fraud. So why was he proving such a capable opponent? The man hadn't even been able to fight pixies! Then, he took note of the vacant look on Lockhart's face. It must be he whom Riddle had control over to help him. Harry doubted he was the one being controlled by the diary, but perhaps the Imperius Curse.

Harry deflected several more spells before leaping to the side and unleashing a torrent of fire towards Lockhart. With a long, sweeping motion, Lockhart doused his flames and transfigured his wave of water into tightly wound ropes of the same substance. Harry tried to evade but he wasn't fast enough. The ropes entangled him quickly and he fell, struggling against the cold bindings of water.

"Stupefy!"

Neville threw off the cloak as he fired his own stunner towards Lockhart. Surprised, Lockhart turned, only just managing to bat the spell aside and not being fast enough to avoid Neville's follow-up impediment jinx. Unfortunately, Neville moved to help Harry, which gave Lockhart enough time to recover. Then, in the next instant, his wand was aimed at Neville as he turned away from Harry. In that same instant, Harry managed to counter Lockhart's water ropes, now able to cast without the fear of Lockhart stunning him as soon as he went for his wand.

Unfortunately, Lockhart's full attention was on Neville. Neville shielded against a full-body-bind but had to dive to the side as Lockhart's blasting curse tore straight through his shield. Then, Neville raised his wand, immediately bailing on that idea as he was forced to dodge left to avoid a stunner.

That also meant that he dodged directly into the path of Lockhart's banishing hex.

The spell sent Neville sailing backwards and slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch. With terror, Harry watched as Neville slumped to the floor, a thin trickle of blood streaming down his face. Harry saw red as he stood to his feet, now able to hear the blood rush in his ears from the fury conjured up by the image of his best friend, crumpled and lifeless.

Fury… red… crunch…

"OZIO FRACTO!"

Ozio Fracto, or the bone-breaker, had given Harry hell for weeks. When, the night after his mock duels against Fred and Katie, he'd looked in the restricted section, he'd found that his problem was the esoteric nature of the spell. In order to successfully cast the bone-breaker, one must truly have the intent to harm behind it. The easiest way to conjure up said intent was to force oneself to feel strong, negative emotions. Anger in particular seemed to work well, if the book was to be believed. Try as he might, Harry had found the practice exceedingly difficult.

Until Gilderoy Lockhart had presented him with oh-so-perfect motivation.

The bolt of crimson light shot from Harry's wand with enough force to make his wand recoil. Lockhart whirled to raise his wand, but he wasn't fast enough. Unable to dodge in time or to conjure a complex shield, Lockhart quickly conjured the Protego in a hasty effort to defend himself. The curse ripped straight through the shield as if it wasn't even there and a split second later, it made contact with Lockhart's wand hand with a sickening crack. The man screamed as his wand fell to the floor. For a moment, Harry stood transfixed as he looked at the mangled bones in Lockhart's hand and heard the cacophony of screams coming from the man's mouth. Then, as the urgency of the situation returned, Harry flicked his wand and silenced Lockhart with a wordless stunner.

At once, he scrambled towards Neville, quickly doing his best to heal the wound on his head with a basic Episkey. Fortunately, the blood did cease streaming from Neville's head. Unfortunately, Neville did not so much as move. Luckily, his pulse was still as strong as ever. With a deep sigh, Harry stood. It appeared as if his deepest suspicions had been true all along.

It really would be him against the Heir of Slytherin.

"MYRTLE!"

Almost at once, a translucent figure rose from out of one of the cubicles. Clearly, the bespectacled former Hogwarts student had been observing the happenings in her favourite dwelling for some time now.

"Yes?"

"I need a favour from you, Myrtle?"

"What kind of favour?" She had a constantly suspicious, forever pouty sort of voice.

"I need you to tell me how you died."

For a second, Myrtle looked stricken, and Harry suspected he had overstepped. Then, her face split into a wide grin. Why she took so much pleasure in telling him that she had seen large, yellow eyes, he did not know. The only thing he needed to know was where the Chamber entrance was. Thankfully, her tale narrowed it down greatly.

Minutes later, far beneath Hogwarts Castle...

When Harry reached the bottom of the slide, there was a period of time in which he stood with his eyes closed, waiting for any sound that indicated movement. When none made themselves present, he very slowly opened his eyes, privately reflecting as he did so that this was the second straight year he would be confronting some form of evil underneath Hogwarts. Like… seriously? Somebody needed to investigate down there.

After several more moments, Harry crept down the long, carved corridor, his cloak of invisibility serving as a method of protection, at least for now. He figured the basilisk would still be able to smell him, but that was a different matter altogether. It was then that Harry noted to learn a charm that masked one's scent. That was, if he escaped from this alive, of course.

When he saw the massive snake skin, Harry very nearly shed his own, but he managed to compose himself quickly and continue along the path. Finally, after about five minutes of walking, he came to a massive set of stone doors marked with rather ostentatious serpentine carvings.

"Open." Harry hissed, and the doors obediently parted. Peeking through his fingers to be sure, Harry realized that mercifully, there did not seem to be a basilisk looming in the shadows. Granted, the room in front of him was massive and full of high, dark columns. Any one of them could likely be obscuring the monster from his view, but he tried not to think about that as he crept forward. He was perfectly aware that any advantage his cloak might give him had been forfeited the moment he opened the doors. It was not a quiet process, and was impossible not to notice. If Riddle was here, he'd know he had a visitor.

And seeing as there was only one resident Parselmouth around, he would also know the identity of said visitor.

As Harry neared the end of the Chamber, his breath caught in his throat.

If he'd thought the entrance was ostentatious, it paled in comparison to this. Standing in front of him was a beautifully carved statue of stone. It was about twenty feet tall and depicted a man with a very long beard. It did not take a deductive genius to realize that the statue must have been a depiction of Salazar Slytherin himself.

But that was not what cut Harry short.

There were five figures at the feet of the statue.

Four of them were bound and gagged. One was Snape and another, to Harry's confusion, was Hermione Granger. The other two were very clearly Ron and Dean. All of them were obviously unconscious. Harry felt his heart rate quicken as blood surged to his ears once more. But he did not rage.

He was too dumbstruck by the appearance of the fourth figure.

Ginny Weasley laid motionless at the feet of Salazar Slytherin with no bindings in sight. She was pale and shaky and looked as if the very life was being drained out of her.

Just then, Harry was distracted when a silver dagger materialized from nowhere and slid under Ron's chin. For a fraction of a second, Harry thought it would slit his throat. But then, it paused.

"If you'd like to ensure the survival of your friend," said a calm, cold, familiar voice, "then I would recommend revealing yourself, Harry Potter. If you do this, both of your friends will survive. For now, at least."

Harry did not hesitate in removing the cloak. Whatever it took, he was going to get Ron and Dean out of here. And the others too, he supposed. If that meant he had to leave himself exposed and vulnerable in the process… well, he'd known the risks when he'd entered Slytherin's fabled Chamber.

"Riddle!" He snarled in way of greeting as soon as the cloak was removed and discarded. His wand was in his hand but to his dismay, Riddle too was armed. There was something about him, though. He was not entirely solid, per se. He seemed more than a ghost, but certainly less than a person. There was also the rather troubling issue of how he was there in the first place. "What are you?"

"A memory." Riddle answered simply. "When it is broken down to its simplest form, the diary is little more than a container. A container left by my sixteen-year-old self with the purpose of containing my essence in hopes that one day, it could serve to reopen the Chamber of Secrets and fulfill Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"You haven't, though." Harry countered. "Nobody's died. Petrification is temporary. When the Mandrakes are ready, everybody will be brought back to life. The best case scenario for you is that the school closes."

Riddle quirked an eyebrow. "And what, Harry, is the worst case scenario?"

"That I end this now." Harry answered with a shocking amount of finality.

Riddle just smirked. "Ah, the naivety of youth. I was naive once too, Harry. Even at the time this diary was created, I was still clearly naive. Naive enough to believe that the most important thing was to see the purging of filthy blood from this school."

"You haven't purged-"

"Aren't you listening, Harry? Haven't you been keeping up these past number of months? Perhaps I gave you too much credit. I was worried, you know? First, that you would figure it all out. When it became clear you had pieces of the puzzle but had yet to connect them, I knew I had to move. But still, I worried. This time, I worried you might not be clever enough to put them together in time." Riddle's dark, intense eyes found Harry's. "If you've yet to realize, Harry, I don't care about petrifying mudbloods anymore. I gave up on that ambition months and months ago. For months now, as I have made very clear as of late, my only true target has been you."

Harry scowled. "Why me, Riddle? Why am I more important than your stupid blood purist nonsense?"

Riddle's lips twitched, but he gave no further reaction. "I have wanted to meet you properly for some time now, Harry Potter. Ever since Ginny Weasley told me all about her new friend. She idolized you, you know? Every interaction between the two of you was measured. She was so worried at coming across as a typical fan girl that she tried to do everything in her power to be genuine while still doing her best to please you." Riddle frowned. "How she did not find herself in Slytherin, I sometimes wonder. Not a bad mind, either. She realized after too long that the diary was affecting her. Unfortunately, my grip on her was far too strong by that point. I admit, I did have quite the scare when the diary fell into your hands."

"You tried to trap me."

"Yes and no." Riddle said, clearly amused. "I was, in essence trying to trap you, but not in the way you may suspect. You see, I'd wanted to show you the memory of Hagrid. I'd hoped you would go looking after that. My hope was that soon, you would find the Chamber of Secrets and we would meet in the flesh, in a manner of speaking."

"But how would that have happened?" Harry asked, frowning. "How would you have gotten out of the diary if it was locked in my trunk." He paused. "Come to think of it, how did you get out of the diary when it was locked in my trunk?"

"Ah, you are clever, Harry, but you missed several pawns in your evaluations of my moves. Though I suppose there's no way you could have seen them. Not unless you'd successfully breached my mind with that little stunt of yours in my mindscape. It was clever, but you'd never have breached my shields. In any case, let me enlighten you as to what you've missed, Harry. As I am sure you're now aware, Gilderoy Lockhart is under my control. He has been for weeks. He was actually supposed to deliver you to me when you entered the bathroom. Evidently, I underestimated you once more."

"He's working for you, then? Is him being a fraud just an act, or something?"

Riddle laughed harshly. "Oh no, Gilderoy Lockhart is every bit as pathetic as you think he is and more so. You see, he did none of those amazing things in his books, as I'm sure you've gathered. What you might not know is that other people did do those things. Other people who now conveniently remember none of it."

Harry took a sharp intake of breath. "The memory charm." He breathed.

"Precisely." Riddle said with a smirk. "It is quite a useful charm, after all. Aside from Imperiusing the fraud, I've used his favourite spell a number of times this year. Why, your friend, Ron Weasley, for instance." Harry's jaw tightened. "I admit, he put up quite the fight when he was woken by a mysterious assailant in the middle of the night over the Christmas Holidays. It took quite an effort to subdue him, but of course, he remembered none of it after the fact. I also attempted to use it on your Potions Master, but his Occlumency negated the spell, something I never even realized was possible.

"But that's less related to your question. I took hair from your friend and brewed Polyjuice Potion, much like I did through Ginny with Miss Granger earlier in the year to learn some additional information. When you locked the diary away in your trunk, I still maintained my control over Lockhart. I had him watch you closely. When he noticed some irregular behaviour with yourself and Mister Longbottom, I knew at once. It was then that I had him dispatch Weasley in the restroom and take his place with Polyjuice Potion. That was when he deduced that you and Longbottom would be out that night, doing Merlin only knew what. So he went back and recovered Weasley and placed him under the Imperius Curse and let him go about his business as normal until you and your friend vacated the common room. From there, it was quite simple. Weasley evaluated your trunk while mentally informing Lockhart and myself through the mental connection forged by the Imperius Curse that you had left. I admit, Harry, a Parseltongue password was rather ingenious. Where you failed was not installing more wards on top of the one necessitating a password. It was quite easy to break.

"After that, I had Weasley cut himself to add to the scene and attack your friend Thomas. They waited in this restroom while Lockhart placed poor Ginevra under the Imperius Curse. She was… rather unwilling to take back the diary. She wanted to warn you, but couldn't quite work up that legendary Gryffindor courage." Riddle was definitely smiling now, and Harry's blood boiled the more he spoke. "Once Ginny was under my control, it was quite simple. She opened the Chamber of Secrets and allowed your friends to rest here with your Potions Master while we waited. Granger got suspicious in the meantime, so she joined them. She too is rather clever. She got too curious after noticing inconsistencies in Ginny, but oh well. From there, it was simply a matter of waiting for you."

Harry's mind was working at top speed. It was so complicated, so convoluted, but so perfect. "And you had Snape attacked because the memory charm failed?"

"I did, yes. I was also curious; Snape's Occlumency had interested me and I wished to question him on it."

"Question him? How did you get him down here then? Surely he didn't just let you stun him? Or did you sneak into the Hospital Wing?"

"Neither, I'm afraid. I set up a rather obscure tracking charm on Snape, not one that is detectable. It is blood magic, of a sort. When his blood started flowing at a rate fast enough to imply frequent movement, I was alerted. From there, I ambushed him with Slytherin's monster. He never stood a chance."

"But that doesn't make any sense." Harry argued. "The basilisk's stare kills."

"I admit, my plan was to make him believe he was about to die at the hands of the serpent, whom I am very impressed you came into knowledge of, before stunning him myself. Snape made the second part negligible. It was quite ingenious, really. A basilisk's stare only kills if it is met directly. That's how all the mudbloods have been surviving this whole year. They've all seen it in a reflection. The cat in a puddle, the photographer through his camera, the Hufflepuff through the ghost. Snape conjured glass at the last possible second. The stare melted straight through it, but it was enough to spare his life. Slytherin did leave antidotes down here. It was quite easy to reverse the process. Unfortunately, he was unwilling to talk no matter what… method I utilized. His Occlumency is astoundingly impressive, so I wasn't going to get anything out of him in that way either. So, for now, I've magically sedated him. For all intents and purposes, he's brain dead for the time being.

"So, needless to say, I had several reasons for attacking him. It also had the wonderful side effect of getting Dumbledore out of the castle. He never did like me when I was at Hogwarts, and still to this day, I find him rather bothersome. Mind you, he'd have been gone soon anyway, but it certainly sped up the process."

"Why go through all of that for me?" Harry asked, circling back to his original question. "Why am I this important to you, Riddle?"

Riddle smiled indulgently. "Yes, I've monologued quite enough, haven't I? I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter, but first, you're going to answer some very important questions."

"And if I refuse?"

Riddle shrugged. "I'll get the information from you one way or another. And don't lie, Harry. I'll know if you lie."

Harry set his jaw. He would talk, for now. If he kept Riddle talking, perhaps it would give him enough time to figure something out.

"First question," Riddle asked, leaning towards Harry as his eyes gleamed, "how is it that a baby with no incredible magical power managed to defeat the most powerful sorcerer to ever live? How did you survive while Lord Voldemort's powers were broken?"

Harry frowned, actually taken aback. He had somehow expected better from Riddle. The last thing he'd expected was for the Heir of Slytherin to be some sort of fanboy. "Why do you care?" He asked cautiously. There was something rubbing at the edge of his mind, a realization of sorts. Unfortunately, he thus far had no idea what that realization was. "Voldemort was after your time."

Harry nearly recoiled at the predatory smile that crossed Riddle's regal face. "Voldemort," he hissed softly, "is my past, my present, and my future." Then, Riddle lifted the wand in his hand and elaborately wrote a name in the air in flaming red letters.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Then, with a flick of his wand, Riddle caused the letters to rearrange and Harry actually gasped.

I Am Lord Voldemort

"You." Harry hissed. His voice was void of anything Riddle may have expected. There was no fear, no shock, no apprehension.

Just unmistakeable hatred.

"Me." Riddle hissed with a curled smile. "Now, I will ask you again, Harry. How is it that you bested Lord Voldemort that Halloween night?"

"Because you're an idiot who's too focused on himself to see the bigger picture." Riddle's eyes narrowed with danger. "My mother died to save me, Riddle. My mudblood mother refused to step aside. She beat you and she didn't even have to raise her wand. And you know what?" Harry continued, spurred on by anger and hatred. "The same thing happened last year. You were so convinced I was no threat, so convinced you'd crush me easily. And then I beat you without a wand. You're pathetic, Riddle, I've seen the real you. You're disgusting, disgraceful, and nothing more than a shell."

Riddle shrugged. "Perhaps, but unfortunately for you, I am also the greatest sorcerer of all time. Not even death can conquer me, Harry Potter. You see, that diary is doing far more than opening the Chamber of Secrets. The moment Ginny Weasley poured her soul into that diary, she had already lost. Now that I do not require her any further, she is dying, Harry. Every passing moment, Ginevra Weasley grows weaker as I grow stronger. Soon, the last of her life will be mine and I shall truly live once more. I will dispose of the famous Harry Potter, find my core self and revive him once more. From there, we will succeed in doing what your mother prevented the first time."

There was a long, tense pause in which the two Parselmouths stared intensely at one another. "You're not." Harry said in just more than a whisper.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Not what?"

"Not the greatest sorcerer of all time, not even in the world."

Riddle frowned. "Who is greater?"

"Albus Dumbledore! You always feared him. You never had the balls to attack Hogwarts even at the height of your power. Almost every time Dumbledore appeared on the battlefield you fled. He scared you in your school days and he still does now. Even with every advantage you could possibly want and a pet murder machine, you were too afraid to act until Dumbledore was gone! While you're wasting away as a pathetic parasite in Merlin only knows what god forsaken corner of the world, Dumbledore's running this whole damn thing and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Albus Dumbledore has been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me."

"He's not really gone though, not beaten yet. Not while I'm here. Not while those loyal to him are still here."

Instantly, music permeated the tense atmosphere around them as an ethereal song seemed to play from every direction. Then, with a flash of fire that would have made Harry jump had he not been glaring at Riddle with utter hatred, Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, appeared on Harry's shoulder, something black and tattered clasped in his claws.

Riddle studied him for almost a minute before he spoke, ignoring the flush of anger on Harry's face and the phoenix altogether. "Such a strong reaction to a simple name." Riddle purred. "Of that, at least, I can be proud. I must admit, Harry, it perplexes me how you can hate somebody who is so similar to you."

"Shut up!" Harry snapped. "I'm nothing like you, Riddle!"

"Aren't you?" Riddle asked with that same, smug smile. "Both halfblood orphans left to be raised by muggles who despised us — oh, don't look so surprised, Harry. You've spoken to your friend, Weasley about them, at least vaguely. His mother is quite persistent in asking about you out of Hogwarts, you know? Ginny was very interested in those conversations. It doesn't take a deductive genius to know that your muggle relatives disliked you. I was much the same. My parents abandoned me, but both of us ended up with muggles who hated us. I bet you were called a freak, I bet you were isolated, I bet you were punished when mysterious things started to happen around you."

"Riddle, I swear-"

"Oh, come now, Harry, we both know I understand you better than any of your friends. After we were both done getting abused for years by muggles who weren't fit to wipe the scum off of our boots, we arrived at Hogwarts. The two orphaned halfbloods, both of whom turned out to be magical prodigies. We're both easily the most gifted sorcerers of our generation, both of us deductive geniuses and gifted in the mind arts at a young age. We're probably the only two Parselmouths to have attended Hogwarts this century and to my knowledge, we're the only two students to ever find Salazar's fabled Chamber of Secrets." Riddle paused, examining Harry again. "Come on, Harry, we even look alike. You may not like it, but we are similar, eerily so, even. There is no running from the truth, Harry. Unfortunately for you, I'm just a few moves-"

"I SAID, SHUT UP!"

Riddle scowled. "Have it your way." He said. "Let us decide who is the greatest sorcerer in the world, shall we? Let us test the famous Harry Potter, armed with the gifts bestowed upon him by whom he believes to be the greatest sorcerer in the world. Let us test the greatness of Harry Potter, a pet bird and a stupid old hat against the might, prestige and power of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful sorcerer of all time!" With that, Riddle turned to the statue of Slytherin and began to hiss. With widened eyes, Harry realized what was happening.

"Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts-"

"BOMBARDA!"

Harry's curse was aimed not at Riddle, but at the statue itself. Unfortunately, the teenaged Voldemort whirled and with a stab of his wand, he sent Harry's curse off course.

"Fine, Potter." Riddle sneered. "Let us test your talents more… directly. Avada Kedavra!"

Before Harry could move, all he could see was fire. Then, an instant later, he rematerialized behind Riddle and the phoenix, Fawkes, took off from his shoulder with what Harry now recognized as the Sorting Hat clasped in his jaws.

"OZIO FRACTO!"

Riddle didn't even block. He just let the spell fly straight through him. "Such dark magic, Harry." He chided. "And you should really know better. A bone-breaker? What good is that against something that is not truly substance?"

"Flagrete!"

Harry, taking inspiration from Fred, moulded his fire into a set of ropes. Unlike Fred, he did this all with one spell before whipping them towards Voldemort. With a flick of Riddle's wand, the flames were snakes, which reared to strike Harry.

"Evanesco!"

With a long sweep of his wand, the snakes vanished. Internally, Harry noted that he would have to thank Gabrielle at some point if he made it out of this. That little tidbit at the end of her letter, playful as it may have been, had just saved his life.

Unfortunately, Harry knew he would lose.

The few spells he snuck through Riddle's defenses had done nothing. By this point, several minutes later, it was apparent Harry had no chance. The worst part was, he could tell Riddle was holding back. Or, more likely, he was weak. What had he said? Every second Ginny grew weaker, he grew stronger? Perhaps magic like the killing curse had taken a lot out of him. He was certainly not casting magic as powerful or awe inspiring as Harry might expect.

But even still, Harry was outmatched.

He was breathing heavily as he came up from a roll just feet away from the unconscious hostages.

"Crucio!"

"Protego!"

Immediately, Harry realized his mistake with dread. Moody had always preached the importance of experience, and here it was on full display. Harry very obviously had no experience in fighting a foe who wielded the Unforgivable Curses so freely. As a result, Protego had become a default defense for him and he had reacted on instinct.

The problem was, no shield could block the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry cried out in pure, unadulterated agony as he slumped to the floor. His wand clattered to the floor as his hand spasmed badly. Harry suddenly forgot he was in the Chamber of Secrets. He forgot that his name was Harry Potter, or that he was standing in front of the teenage version of Voldemort. This was pain on an entirely new level. He just wanted it to end — by any means necessary.

Mercifully, about forty seconds later, it did. Absentmindedly, as if from far away, Harry could hear the sounds of Riddle trying to fend off Fawkes. Clearly, Dumbledore's phoenix had taken exception with its owner's protege being tortured to death. Harry tried to push himself up to his feet but he couldn't. Pain wracked his body every time he tried to move. That curse was meant to break people within about ten seconds.

Harry did not even want to think of its effects on a twelve-year-old boy when applied for more than quadruple that time.

As Harry slumped back to the floor, he felt a pair of eyes from his side. He looked to his side and almost gasped. Snape's eyes were open and he was peering imploringly at Harry. Glancing up with some difficulty, Harry realized that Riddle, who had almost warded off the phoenix by now, had not noticed.

Somehow, Snape had bested Riddle again.

Slowly, Harry began to crawl for his wand.

With a blast like a firework, Fawkes squawked indignantly and Riddle whirled on Harry, wand aimed. Harry knew what was about to happen, but he was too weakened to prevent it.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Before Harry's world could be consumed in green, his eyes burned from a different shade of light. Fawkes had flamed directly between Harry and the Killing Curse. When the curse slammed into the bird, it let out a high, agonized cry and burst into ashes. Harry knew that a new phoenix would be born from the ashes in seconds, but it wasn't going to matter.

"Too late, bird." Riddle snarled, now breathing heavily as he aimed deliberately at Harry. "You've only delayed the inevitable. Goodbye, Harry Potter.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Instead of a jet of green light emerging from his wand, Riddle let out a cry of pain as he fell to the ground, shaking. After a moment, he slowly stood to his feet and twirled the wand in his hands distastefully.

"It appears your death has been delayed one more time, Harry." He hissed in a voice suddenly raspy and filled with anger and annoyance. "In this form, I fatigue too quickly. It seems hurling Unforgivables around is fairly taxing for a memory, but no matter. You will die nonetheless." In a dramatic motion, Riddle whirled to face the statue and now, his voice came out as a hiss.

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

Harry could hear the statue's mouth unhinge far above him. About fifteen seconds later, he could hear the loud thud of the snake's body hitting the cool, Chamber floor. He could hear Riddle's command to kill him in Parseltongue and he could hear the snake crawling nearer.

"Just look up, Harry. It will all be over in a flash."

Harry did indeed look up, but he did so with closed eyes and a wand in hand.

"FINITE INCANTATEM!"

Though Harry's eyes were closed, he knew it had worked. He could hear the scrambling of Snape as he stood quickly to his feet, hear Riddle commanding the basilisk to divert its attention from Harry to Snape. And then, Harry heard the Potions Master cry out in a snarl far more vicious than anything even he'd been on the receiving end of.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Harry heard a smack as if the snake had fallen. Then, he heard mad, agonized sputtering and disjointed complaints in Parseltongue that all worked out to about the same in terms of their meaning…

"My eyes."

Tentatively, Harry chanced a glance from his spot on the floor. He did try to get up, but his body still rejected the motion. There was the basilisk, slowly rearing back up, blood pouring from the open sockets that used to contain its eyes. Whatever spell Snape had used, it had destroyed the things eyes in one go.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

This time, the spell smashed against the armoured scales on the things head and to Harry's shock, blood poured from the point of impact. The basilisk's scales could resist almost all magic, but whatever that spell was, it was slicing straight through it. It had not cut deep enough to kill the thing, as Snape began firing the spell repeatedly, but it had wounded it.

Riddle was hissing instructions frantically, but he could not yet do more than that. Then, Harry felt a nudge against his arm. When he looked down, it was the baby phoenix, Fawkes. Somehow, the miniature bird had managed to drag the Sorting Hat towards Harry. Perplexed, Harry made to grab the hat, but instead, his hand plunged into the thing…

And closed around something very solid.

With tremendous effort, Harry drew a ruby-encrusted sword from the hat, one that was long and deadly in appearance. Then, he glanced up. Snape was clearly trying to hit the same point that his second spell had impacted, but the basilisk kept evading.

"PROFESSOR!" Harry screamed, just barely managing to lift the sword above his head for Snape to see. Only later would the youth reflect how proud Dumbledore would be at his proper address of the man.

Snape's dark eyes, filled with such intensity that Harry actually flinched, landed on him and the sword. For a second, Snape seemed shocked. Then, with a swish and flick of his wand, the sword levitated.

And then drove itself forcefully into the open wound on the basilisk's skull.

Riddle screamed in fury as his pet murder machine fell to the floor, twitching and convulsing before, a moment later, it ceased moving at all.

Snape's wand turned on Riddle, but the boy only sneered. "You can't so much as hurt me, fool! Soon, I will be restored to full power and the both of you will die!"

He wasn't lying.

Ginny looked terrible. She was beyond pale now, almost ghostly in her appearance. The diary seemed to be glowing, increasing in brightness each and every second…

"Professor, the diary! Destroy the diary!"

Remarkably, Snape did not question Harry. He whipped around, firing several cutting curses at the diary. When none of them did so much as scratch the thing, he sneered.

"Sectumsempra!"

Again, nothing happened.

Riddle was laughing. "You don't understand the scope of the situation, Professor." He drawled in a mocking tone of voice. "There is nothing in your arsenal that can leave a scratch on that diary."

Snape sneered. "Cease your taunting, you insolent, incompetent dunderhead!" Riddle actually faltered and Harry would have laughed if it wouldn't have hurt. "I am Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, seventh level Occlumens and master of the darkest of arts! You have underestimated me for the final time!" Then, with a flourish, Snape swept his wand in a wide arc towards the diary.

"FIENDFYRE!"

Red hot flames surged from Snape's wand and engulfed the diary.

Harry knew that it had worked as soon as Riddle began to scream. As the flames began to coalesce into the form of a beautiful, yet terrifying doe, the horrified, furious form of Tom Riddle began to fade. Before it could do so completely, Harry looked up and met its eye with a triumphant, shit-eating grin and uttered one last, poetic word.

"Checkmate!"

Author's Endnote:

So there it is! The Chamber of Secrets over and done with!

I hope you guys are satisfied with that conclusion. I am a bit worried people will say I stuck too close to canon but honestly, there aren't many believable ways a twelve year old Harry Potter could beat Tom Riddle. I personally like the way everything came full circle, but let me know what you think in the reviews.

Also, don't think this is the end of year 2. We have several more chapters left and I still have an ace or two up my sleeve to play before the conclusion of this year…

It should be noted that there will be no chapter for this story next week. I am taking a one week hiatus to finish some other projects. Weekly uploads will return on Sunday, August 2nd and continue for the duration of year 2.

Please read and review.