Chapter 71 - 71- the story of an heir

Marcus's POV

Marcus ran to Ginny, dropping his wand as he got on his knees trying to wake the little girl, disregarding the fact he should be cautious. "Ginny! Are you O.K.?"

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

Marcus jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Marcus was looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him

"Tom?-Tom Riddle?" Marcus cried as he saw the 16 year old boy.

"Hello Marcus."

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

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Marcus said desperately. "She's not - she's not -?"

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

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief before staring at Tom.

Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" Marcus asked uncertainly.

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

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Marcus had found in M.o.a.ning Myrtle's bathroom.

For a second, Marcus wondered how it had got there - but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"You have to help me! Ginny is knocked out and the heir with his basilisk is somewhere here!"

Riddle didn't move. Marcus, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.

But his wand had gone.

"Did you see -?"

He looked up. Riddle was still watching him - twirling Marcus's wand between his long fingers.

"Thanks," said Marcus, stretching out his hand for it.

A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Marcus, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," said Marcus urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes -"

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

Marcus lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.

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

Riddle's smile broadened.

"You won't be needing it," he said.

Marcus stared at Tom who had a charming smile on his face.

"What d'you mean, I won't be -?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Marcus Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you, hell, it's been more then 50 years sense I started to wish this, but as you don't know anything there is no point to discuss this wish, instead let's discuss a different matter."

Marcus was more confused then he was when he got his first T, more confused then when everyone in school turned their back on him because of his ability to talk to snakes, more confused then when his parents told him he has a twin, and when Marcus is confused he demands an explanation, at least if he wasn't in a deadly situation.

"Look," said Marcus, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later -"

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

Marcus stared at him. There was something very funny going on here.

"How did Ginny get like this?" he asked slowly.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?"

"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how" -Riddle's eyes glinted "how she didn't think famous, good, great Marcus Potter would ever like her . . . .

It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven- year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom .... I'm so glad I've got this diary to

confide in .... It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket"

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

"If I say it myself, Marcus, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted .... I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her. . ."

He wanted to interpret, he wanted to tell the boy to go to hell, but just as he was about to interrupt the memory, he remembered his father once told him to always listen to a villain's monologue as it brings out the most important details.

"Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat.

It took some time, but she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Marcus. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet, though if I knew what I know today, I would have been even more thrilled, even if a little afraid."

"And why did you want to meet me?" said Marcus. Unable to keep the anger from coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.

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

"Hagrid's my friend," said Marcus, his voice now shaking. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but -"

Riddle laughed his high laugh again.

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

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dipper to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed, probably cause he could see we are exactly alike."

"You are nothing alike!"

"Sure we aren't..." Tom's voice became sarcastic

"But it doesn't matter, I couldn't open the chamber again, so instead I left this diary that while doing what it was supposed to do, it would alsocontinue Salazar work."

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

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

Marcus starred at him.

"And while I didn't expected you to be the one who came in my footsteps, I have many questions to ask you."

"Like what?"

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "like, how is it that you a chubby boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed? But now that I met you I know why, it doesn't matter, what should be the real question is why did he chose you? What is so special about you?"

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

"Why do you care?" said Marcus slowly. "Voldemort was after your time ...

"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Marcus Potter . . . ."

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

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

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

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

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

Marcus at that point has to summon all of his courage to say the next words

"You're not," he said,

"Not what?" snapped Riddle.

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

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Marcus retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Marcus's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Marcus felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

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

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Marcus. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Marcus looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

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

"That's a phoenix" said Riddle

"Fawkes?" Marcus breathed, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently

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

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Marcus's feet.

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

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Marcus Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

Marcus didn't answer. He might not see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but he was no longer alone, and he waited for Riddle to stop laughing with his courage mounting.

"To business, Marcus," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Why did he choose you? What is it about you that is so special he went after you to the point of losing his body?

Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

Marcus was thinking fast, weighing his chances. Riddle had the wand. He, Marcus, had Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, neither of which would be much good in a duel. It looked bad, all right ... but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny ... and in the meantime, Marcus noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid .... If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later.

"I seriously have no idea why, but it doesn't matter, I defeated you twice and I will defeat you again!"

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

"I guess it doesn't matter, I have to defeat you to survive and become stronger! I will win!

Let's see if you can use your specialty! Mine is controlling the basilisk!"

Taking a big breath, Tom yelled

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

Marcus wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Marcus saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

Harry's POV

The horror Harry felt from the speech of teen Voldi was unimaginable, as although most of the speech was mostly the same as the one in the books, the part that changed said it all, horcruxes could sense each other and apparently devour each other to grow stronger, which meant he had to find a way to not only find if he is a horcrux, but also to get rid of it as soon as possible!

As Harry saw the mouth of the statue open, he clenched his secret weapon inside his weapon, a pinky size stone.