Here's a bonus chapter to make up for the last one being so short.

It takes place after Harry's second year- in other words, right after he leaves the wizarding world.

Enjoy!

--

Interlude 1: Whistling in his head

Luna looked around. This was a dark, dank place, with a smell of rotten fruit hanging in the air. She could swear there were spiders crawling over her feet, or snakes. But somehow, she wasn't afraid. There were worse things that could have happened to her, and they already had. The diary, and the chamber. Her body would be there forever, she supposed. After all, no one could access the chamber unless they spoke Parseltongue, and Tom was the only one that could do that. Besides, it was summer. No one else was in the school. They'd all left on the train, hours ago.

Even if there had been someone there, they couldn't help her now. She was dead. She knew this; she'd seen her mother die, and she knew very well what Tom was doing to her. She hadn't been able to stop it- she'd realized too late what the lapses in memory were- but she'd slowed him down. No doubt Tom had wanted to force her to kill some students, to command that poor snake down there to do horrible things. But she'd held him off until summer, and that meant he couldn't hurt anyone else.

Luna felt the side of her head, and was pleased to find her wand still tucked neatly behind her ear. She had her mind, she had her free will, and she had a weapon. Things were looking bright.

She walked along for a while, stepping in piles of sludge and other things as she did so. She whistled a little tuneless little ditty as she went along, and wondered what the slime was. Perhaps it was the dung of some fantastic creature, and she'd get to see it. Like the basilisk; that had been a bright spot in her last few minutes. What would Daddy have given to see one of those?

Soon enough she found light, coming from a large rectangular grate in the ceiling. Good. She was dead; there was supposed to be a light at the end of the tunnel, and when she got through it she would see her mother again.

She looked up though the grate but couldn't see much. It was still dim up there, and the grate was far above her. Carefully, standing very tall, she felt around the edges of it, and loosened the screws holding it up. It fell with a clatter in a puddle, splashing her and nearly crushing her toes. She stopped humming. Even in heaven, it seemed one could get hurt.

It took a bit of effort to get up the hole; it was a full two feet over her head. She had to pick the grate up, balance it on one of its thick edges, and stand very carefully on that while trying not to fall off. It was tricky, and took a few tries, but eventually she was high enough up that she could host herself out of the hole.

Finally, with a little thump and a moment when she thought she would slip down again- there was nothing to hold on to- she was out.

The gloom in this room made it hard to make anything out, though it was better than the tunnel. The room was large, and stone like Hogwarts; that much she could easily see. She closed her eyes for a moment, tasting the air. It wasn't as damp as that below, but there was still a moldy smell of decay.

"Lumos," she muttered, and a feeble beam came from her wand. It was not enough to see anything in detail, but she did see that there was some sort of pillar to her left, and anther to her right. She took a few steps, and resumed her whistling. There was nothing to be afraid of here.

Funny. The base of the pillar looked almost like...

She walked farther away, and bright lights suddenly flooded the room. She had to close her eyes for a moment against the sudden illumination.

The base of the pillar was a shoe, taller than she was. And what she'd taken as the room was merely part of a giant statue. Looking up (her neck craning so hard that it hurt) she saw the face.

It was Tom, grinning at her as he did in her worst nightmares.

As she watched, he grinned wider. For a moment, she couldn't move. Her whistling stopped again. Then the moment was gone, and she turned. She did not run; what good would it do her? The statue was not alive. Even if it was, she couldn't possibly outrun it. She would walk slowly.

Luna had not found heaven in her death. She had not found her mother or a multitude of snorklacks, hadn't found friends or happiness or any of the things she'd been hoping for.

She had found Tom Riddle's mind.

Still- the worst was over. He could hardly do anything to her that was worse than killing her, after all.

Whistling again, she walked onward.

--

A/N: So. Short, but it's only an interlude, so you can't complain. I was saving this for a time when I couldn't update for a while, but... meh. I just forget whenever it would be helpful. So, here.

Please Review!