'Not what?' snapped Riddle.

'Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,' said Harry, 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!' Harry 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 Harry'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 Harry 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 peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were grip- ping a ragged bundle.

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

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

'That's a phoenix ...' said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

'Well no shit! Anything else you would like to share?' Amelia sassed.

'Fawkes?' Harry 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 Harry's feet.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark