The tunnel was as silent as a tomb.
Suddenly, they heard an unexpected sound.
CRUNCH
It turned out to be Ron stepping on a rat's skull.
Harry looked down at the ground and found that there were bones of small animals everywhere. He tried his best to restrain himself from imagining what Ginny would look like when they found her.
Lockhart walked in front, his stride not large but his pace steady. He led Harry and Ron around a dark bend in the tunnel.
"Harry, there's something there..." Ron said hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder.
The two of them stood still, staring nervously.
Harry saw the outline of a huge, coiled shape, lying motionless on the other side of the tunnel.
"It's a snakeskin. The basilisk's shed skin."
Lockhart raised his wand, letting the light shine further.
The light fell on a huge snakeskin, bright green and vibrant, clearly the skin of a venomous snake. It lay coiled on the tunnel floor, empty inside.
Clearly, the animal that had just shed this skin was at least twenty feet long.
"Blimey," Ron sighed weakly.
"Stay alert. Keep moving," Lockhart said calmly.
The three of them turned one bend after another in the deep, dark tunnel.
Every nerve in Harry's body was trembling uncomfortably. He wanted to reach the end of the tunnel quickly, but at the same time, he was a little afraid of the tunnel actually ending.
Finally, he carefully rounded another bend and saw a solid wall in front of him, on which were carved two intertwined snakes, their eyes set with large, glittering green emeralds.
"Potter's clue, it's your turn again," said Lockhart.
Even without Lockhart saying it, Harry had already guessed what he had to do.
He cleared his throat. The emerald eyes seemed to flicker.
He didn't need to imagine these two stone snakes as real ones now, because their eyes looked exactly like living ones.
"Open up," Harry said in a low, guttural hiss.
The two snakes separated. The stone wall split down the middle and slowly slid aside, disappearing.
This was one side of a long, dimly lit chamber.
There were many thick stone pillars here, carved with various coiled and entangled large snakes, soaring up to support a ceiling that dissolved into the darkness above, casting long, eerie shadows in the mysteriously misty room.
Lockhart held his wand half-raised, walking slowly between the snake-coiled pillars without a word.
At this time, Harry and Ron also drew their wands and followed carefully behind him.
Every light step they took produced a hollow, dull echo between the ghostly walls.
In such a silent environment, any unnecessary sound made one feel exceptionally uneasy.
When they reached the space between the last pair of pillars, a huge statue as tall as the room itself appeared before them, pressed against the dark wall behind.
The slightly greenish stone gave it a gloomy and terrifying aura.
They had to crane their necks to see the statue's face clearly—it was an old, monkey-like face, with a long, thin beard that almost reached the hem of the stone-carved wizard's robe. Two large feet stood firmly on the smooth floor of the room.
"...Salazar Slytherin," Lockhart muttered, looking at the statue.
Between the statue's two feet, a small figure in a black robe lay face down, her hair as red as fire.
"Ginny!"
Harry and Ron shouted, and then rushed to her side and knelt down.
"Ginny! Oh—don't be dead! Please—"
Ron casually dropped his wand, then grabbed Ginny's shoulders, trying to turn her over. Harry also put his wand aside and helped him.
Ginny's face was as cold and bloodless as marble, but her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified.
"Ginny, wake up—please—" Ron shook her desperately, pleading in a low voice.
Ginny's head lolled lifelessly.
"She won't wake," a soft voice said.
Ron ignored the voice. He just kept shaking Ginny's body, as if he couldn't hear anything else.
But Harry spun around.
A tall, dark-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching him. The boy's outline was blurry and very strange, as if he were being viewed through a fogged-up window.
"Who are you? What do you mean? You say she won't wake up?" Harry asked desperately. "She's not—she's not—"
"She's still alive," said the blurry figure. "But only just."
Harry was stunned. Lockhart, on the side, just stood there silently.
"Then who are you? A ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"A memory," said Riddle calmly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."
He pointed to the diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which was lying by the statue's big toe.
Harry couldn't figure out how it had gotten there. He had left it in his dormitory—but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
Harry stopped talking to him and, with great effort, helped Ron half-carry Ginny up from the floor.
Then, he bent down to pick up his wand, but it was gone.
"Did you see—"
"For every wizard, the wand is a lifelong companion... take it."
Beside Harry, Lockhart handed Harry's wand to him, but his eyes were always fixed on the blurry figure.
"Oh—Professor, thanks—but, what's wrong?"
"He wanted to take your wand," Lockhart said, tilting his head and pointing with his chin.
The tall boy stared at Lockhart for a moment, but then looked back at Harry.
"I have waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," he said. "For a chance to see you, to speak to you."
"Look," said Harry, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We'll talk later."
"We're going to talk now," said the boy, still with a clear smile on his face.
"What's there to talk about! We have to go back now, we have to save Ginny!"
Ron suddenly exploded. His angry shouts echoed in the huge room, the overlapping echoes making the sound even more annoying.
"Then let's talk," Lockhart suddenly spoke again. "I think we need to know how Ginny ended up like this."
"Yeah, why is Ginny like this?" Harry couldn't help but ask upon hearing this.
Ron, who was half-carrying Ginny with Harry, couldn't help but calm down. After all, this question was indeed crucial.
"Oh, that's an interesting question," the boy said cheerfully. "It's a long story! I'd say the real reason Ginny Weasley is like this is because she opened her heart to a stranger and poured out all her secrets."
"What are you talking about?" said Harry.
"The diary," said the boy. "My diary. For months, little Ginny has been writing her heart out in it, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes—how she was teased by her brothers, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books... and, she thought—"
The boy's eyes glittered slyly. "—she thought that the great, the good, the famous Harry Potter would never like her..."
As he spoke, his eyes never left Harry's face, as if he had no interest in anyone else's existence.
There was an almost greedy look in his eyes.
"It was very boring, listening to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he continued. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. Oh, Tom, no one understands me like you do... 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."
The boy let out a cold, piercing laugh that didn't sound like it came from a sixteen-year-old at all—it made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.
"If I say so myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me," the boy said with a sly smile. "And her soul was exactly what I needed. I grew stronger on her fears, her dark 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..."
"What did you say!" Ron couldn't help but roar, but the other didn't even deign to glance at him.
"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" he said softly. "It was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed the threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."
"Oh—no! Impossible!" Ron's face was twisted. "This can't be! You're lying! It was Marcel who opened the Chamber! Marcel Maclean!"
"...Marcel Maclean." Hearing this name, the smile on the boy's face immediately disappeared. His eyes showed clear annoyance.
"Don't mention that name to me!" his voice suddenly became low.
The full story is available on Patreon!
now at 40% OFF!
patreon.com/Zefyrus