The girl was utterly different from Ginerva. She wasn't looking for a shoulder to cry on, pity or recognition. She was only looking for companionship. So of course Tom gave that to her as he manipulated her body to carry out more attacks. What he hadn't counted on was finding that he had grown to like her. Her memory wasn't anywhere as good as his own, but she had shared with him her own favorite books, including texts that hadn't been written by the time he had been placed within the Diary. She was thoughtful and kind, more than happy to spend her entire time speaking to him in Parselmouth. When he asked her if she had sought Salazar's Secrets, her response had floored him. "Wouldn't that make you angry? They are your legacy, not mine. If my keeping away from them left us on good terms, then I would rather have you as company rather than some legacy that might only bring more trouble my way." Tom could say that he never had met a Slytherin like her. Eventually the feelings he had been developing for the girl shifted. Guilt started to fester in his heart. Still wishing to regain his body, but not at the expense of Lillian Potter's life, he did something he could say was very stupid of him. He told her the truth. He told her that he was Lord Voldemort, the man responsible for her being an orphan.
Lillian had left after that the night before, leaving Tom wondering what his fate might be. He could find himself in the hands of the Headmaster, his demise just a few spells away from being realized. Or he could find himself in the hands of someone else, a pawn he could use without feeling guilty. So many possibilities, all beyond his control. It was maddening, but oddly… liberating. So he remained standing, looking at his books with renewed interest, as he expected his end to be near. "Tom?" The boy's heart stilled as he turned around, finding those mesmerizing green eyes staring back at him. "You're back?" Lillian blinked at him in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?" Tom was certain that his facial expression matched the incredulity that he was currently feeling. "I told you who I was." Lillian frowned. "So?" Tom stared back at the girl. "Aren't you angry at me? Everything that happened to you after that night. Hell, after your birth, it was all my fault. Why aren't you angry at me? Why haven't you given me away to the Headmaster?" Lillian searched his eyes. "What would anger get me? It wouldn't change the fact that I lost my family, or that the other version of you was responsible, or that the people my family entrusted me to also turned their backs on me. Being angry wouldn't change a thing about my life, except maybe lose a friend. So why should I be angry, when I can just let it go and move on? I mean, if I am actually going to make something out of my life, I can't do it by marching straight at all the people that piss me off. I wouldn't get to live at all if I did that."
Tom followed her with his eyes as she searched his book selection, humming to herself happily as she pulled out a book on enchantments. "May I?" The boy nodded absentmindedly. A few minutes later, which he spent watching her read, he tried to get her to see reason again. "You know that I am using you, right? While you are here I am attacking muggleborns using your body." Lillian looked up from her book. "Do you plan to hurt me in any way or have me taking the blame for the attacks?" Tom shook his head. "No." Lillian rested her hand on her chin. "Will your use of me lead me to suffer in any way later down the road, impeding my own ambitions?" Tom sighed, unable to lie to her. "No, I wouldn't dream of it." Lillian waved her hand. "Then please, carry on." Tom narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't bother you all?" Lillian thought for a second, her legs swinging underneath the table. "I am in a library with unlimited access to knowledge that I couldn't find in the outside world, sharing my time with someone who understands me and who I consider to be a friend, who has made it clear that they don't intend to cause me harm. The people whom you are hurting don't give a damn about me or have actively participated in ostracizing me. I can't think of a reason as to why I should care about any of them, or of any place I would rather be right now than here. Could you?" Tom closed his eyes, putting himself in her shoes. He shook his head. "No, I certainly couldn't.." Taking a seat opposite of her, Tom opened his book, his mind moving the girl's body in the real world, as he sat beside her within the mental landscape of the Diary.
He did his best not to look her in the eye as he started setting things in motion that would lead to the Diary finding itself back in someone else's hands, while the Guardian of the Chamber sought out its next victims. He couldn't bear to look at her, even though he knew that he would have a perfect memory of her within his mind. It would have to be enough. The girl was too much like him; calculating, thoughtful and detached. But at the same time there was a kindness to her, a willingness to give a part of herself, even sacrifice control over her body, so long as it meant that she herself wasn't harmed, betrayed or abandoned by those closest to her. How he would have wished to have met her in his youth, to have known that kindness in his everyday life. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't. So Tom planned and watched as events unfolded, waiting to catch someone unawares. A Gryffindor boy with flaming red hair stepped out of the Gryffindor Common Room's entrance and with Lillian's wand, which seemed to sing to him as he held it, placed the boy under Tom's control. Within the mindscape, he placed the book back into its place in the bookshelves as tears ran down his face. He approached Lillian from behind, doing something he had never done before. He hugged her warmly. "Thank you for being here, Lillian. Thank you for calling me your friend. I will never forget you."
Tom didn't give her a chance to speak, placing her mind under his control as well. Her body would find its way back to the Slytherin Common Room. He would make certain of that. She, the last Parselmouth to currently exist within Hogwarts, would be kept safe, away from the eyes of the school. Tom would try to find a way to recover his physical form, but even if he failed, he would give Lillian something to remember him by. He would go down to the Chamber of Secrets and reset the wards, allowing the girl to gain entry to the Chamber by her talent alone. However his departure from Hogwarts might be, Lillian would be given the chance to explore his family's secrets. She would have access to knowledge that no other person but himself would know of. This was the only way he could make amends to her. Because he knew deep in his heart that what Lillian wanted more than anything was his company. To spend her nights by his side, hearing him tell stories of his past, reading his books or trying her best to teach him how to dance. Tom, within his mental landscape, while the controlled body of Ronald Weasley as the boy stored the Diary away within his robes, smiled to himself at the memory of their attempt at dancing on December 31st. The trails of tears refused to dry on his face. Lillian Potter deserved better. From him and this world, she deserved more than what she had been given. He hoped that his other self, the entity that existed somewhere in the world, agreed with him. That she would be kept safe. That was all that mattered to him now.
-✦-
Tom's eyes snapped open, tears covering his face as the dream, memory, or whatever the hell that was, sank down into his subconscious. He did his best to preserve the memory as much as possible. He couldn't not do it, as the emotions that consumed him seemed to have a life of their own, demanding that the sacrifice of this otherself not be in vain. It took him minutes of deep breaths and Occlumency exercises to regain control of his emotions as he made his way to the Slytherin bathrooms, washing away the tears that covered his face. Back within his room, using a towel to dry up his damp hair, Tom turned his eyes back to the bed, wondering if he might manage to get some measure of sleep. His eyes looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table, noticing he had an hour or so left before having to wake up. He wouldn't be able to get any sleep, not before he was forced to awaken once more. Deciding that it was best for him to just stay awake, Tom looked towards the end of his bed, blinking at it in confusion. There were several presents there, many in different types and colors of wrapping paper, meaning they were from more than one person. Pulling them all onto the bed, Tom started opening them carefully, finding himself growing more and more surprised.
From Myrtle Warren he received a copy of Sheridan Le Fanu's "In a Glass Darkly," with a note from the muggleborn wondering just how accurate the book's versions of vampires, demons and familiars were like and if the Gothic stories had been so popular because of information being leaked from Magical Society into the mundane world. Having not read the book, Tom thought it would be worth going through it when he had a moment to himself. She also sent him some sweets that she had received from her family. Tom frowned at the bottles of hair care products from Abraxas, wondering if the Slytherin was insinuating something about the state of Tom's hair. He wouldn't put it past Malfoy to hide an insinuation within a gift, even an expensive one. A book on the Magical History and Traditions associated with the Yuletide from Theodore Nott, however, did peak his interest. In a long box, he found a pair of quills with feathers. On top of them was a letter from Cassandra, telling him that one feather was from a Griffin and the other was from a Hippogriff. She warned him that he best be careful which one he chose, as one would lead him to wealth and power, but the other would lead him to companionship and nobility. Tom felt both feathers with his fingers, noticing a stronger magical reaction from the Griffin, but a softer one from the Hippogriff feather. Tom placed the quills aside, even as he committed Cassandra's warning to memory. If she was indeed a Seer and had seen fit to share a vision of hers with him, it would be foolish of him to ignore it outright.
Seeing no other gifts at the foot of his bed left Tom feeling heavy of heart, until a pop echoed in the room. "May Hogsby approach the Heir of Slytherin? Hogsby does not wish to intrude." Tom shook his head as he looked at the small creature. "You are not intruding, Hogsby. What brings you to my chambers?" The elf moved closer to Tom, before revealing a box in his hand, the green and silver colors being familiar to him from the year before. "The Young Miss asked Hogsby to deliver this to the Heir in person, without it being seen by anyone else. Hogsby can confirm that it holds old and powerful magic, but it is not meant to influence or harm the wielder, only to shield the object and the owner from harm. Is the Heir willing to receive the gift? The Young Miss said that it holds no conditions with it." Tom sighed but nodded, feeling the burden of his discussion with Lilith last night weighing him down. The elf popped away as soon as the box was in Tom's hands. Pulling the letter from atop the box, Tom decided to open it first.
To Herr Riddle,
I will adhere to your request to keep my distance for the remainder of the Yuletide. This here is an item that took a bit of work to secure. To the judgement of a woman in desperate need of money, this was hardly worth a few galleons. To a more knowledgeable woman, it was worth a great sum of gold. To you, Riddle, I imagine it to be priceless. Do not attempt to offer me payment or reward for it, as that wasn't my intent. This item is yours by birthright, I am merely returning it to its rightful owner. A Happy Yuletide to you and all my best wishes that your hunt may be fruitful.
Frau Lilith von Schwarzwald
His curiosity peaked, Tom pulled the wrapping paper off the box, finding that the box wasn't cardboard but some type of silver, the sides of the box covered in runic arrays, though they were devoid of any Runic Languages, just blank slates that he himself could customize. Opening the latch and lifting the lid, Tom found his throat turning dry. There, within the box, sitting atop a green felt, was a locket of gold and emeralds. The emeralds formed the same design and pattern as the ones on his Heir Ring, meaning that it was likely from the same craftsman. Taking the locket into his hands, he could feel the magic within it radiating out, some of it easing into his skin.
Tom frowned for a second after he found that the locket wouldn't be pried open, before he remembered the secret passageways. Perhaps… ~" Open. "~ The locket's magic flared and the latch was released. Opening the locket, Tom found himself staring at two small portraits. Both showed the same man, though the one on the left showed him with darker hair and less wrinkles, while the one on the right showed a man much more advanced in age, with a different woman at his side in each portrait. Both were static, which was to be expected considering the limitations of magic for the age. Still, seeing two portraits of Salazar Slytherin, as his appearance matched the other static portrait of him within the Slytherin Common Room, wasn't the thing that surprised him. It was the smile on his face, the way his arms were wrapped around the women and the smiles on both of them that tugged at something in his heart. These were more than just companions. They had to have been his wives. Tom closed his eyes, as he closed the locket. "Hogwarts a History" said nothing of him being married, though it of course mentioned that he had children, just not how many. The Family Tree from the Goblins had shown Tom that he had indeed had a wife, though it could not reveal that they had loved each other. Here, in Tom's hand, there was proof that the history books were incomplete. Salazar Slytherin wasn't alone. He was married, possibly twice, fathering more children than anyone thought possible. He was more than just a Founder and a Dark Wizard. He was a husband and a father, a man capable of loving deeply, as seen by the expression on his face and on the faces of the women.
Lilith's letter on his bed caught Tom's eye, and he couldn't help but feel some shame and regret. She returned to him an important part of his legacy, all the while he had asked her to stay away from him, and again asked for nothing in return, knowing that had she asked anything of him he would have obliged her, if only reluctantly. He knew she was calculating and capable of violence, that much was clear now. And yet, she was loyal, kind and caring. The dream from last night resurfaced in his mind as he saw a version of himself having the same companionship with a girl called Lillian, a Parselmouth, and watched as he sacrificed her friendship and company out of a sense of self loathing and a desire for power. He gave up something he deemed priceless in the search for greater power and possibly lost both in the end. Tom, sitting on his bed, realised that he had done something similar, but it had been out of fear. Fear of being manipulated, fear of losing himself to the whims of another. But most of all, fear of the emotions that continued to grow unbidden within him for Lilith. Even now, knowling what she took from him, he still yearned to touch her, to be by her side. A strong part of him deeply wished he had kissed her when her face was but a few inches away. He had been afraid of what she had meant to him and had used his anger and indignation from her actions to chase her away. He had been a coward. Searching through his feelings, Tom looked to see if he still felt anger over her killing of Morfin Gaunt.
There was irritation still. A desire to have had a chance to meet a member of his family, to have known them and perhaps learned about them. And yet everything told him that Morfin would have only sought his death. Lilith, being her usual self, found out about this and acted on her own to spare him. She murdered a man to keep Tom safe, at a time when they weren't even partners. And ever since then she had been at his side, helping him find his way to his family's legacy. To his legacy. Tom thought about what his future might look like if he gave up on their partnership. If the vision from just before his fourth year was true, then the sacrifice he had seen of this Lillian Potter's company had gained this Lord Voldemort power, but not companionship or even victory. Only an inglorious death in the ruins of his family's legacy. Feeling the locket in his hand, Tom took a deep breath, then released it. Cassandra was right. He had a choice ahead of him. He had to choose whether he allowed his fears to control him as he sought power, or if he was willing to trust in Lilith, in spite of Morfin's death, to be there for him when he needed her most. Salazar Slythrrin had been presented as a loner, and yet the locket proved otherwise. His Ancestor had chosen family not once but at least twice. Tom couldn't do any less. The dark haired girl from his dream was right. He didn't want to be alone. Not if he didn't have to be.