The chamber was dark and cold. On either side of them stood great stone serpents half-submerged in murky water. They cast ominous shadows against the pathway in the green glow. (Y/N) briefly entertained the idea of turning back and helping Ron shift the rocks, but she knew she couldn't leave Harry on his own. She tightened her grip on her wand, and though her hands were shaking, followed close behind him as he moved deeper into the Chamber.

Their footsteps echoed loudly against the path. (Y/N) kept her eyes fixed on the ground; she didn't want to risk accidentally looking the basilisk in the eye. "Harry?" she whispered, heart racing.

He turned around. (Y/N) couldn't find her voice. She thought about the year before when Harry had to face Lord Voldemort all on his own. She felt miserable; she wasn't alone and she still felt as though she couldn't do it.

She didn't have to say a word. Harry moved beside her and held out his hand. "Here," he said. "I think we'll both feel better,"

(Y/N) almost smiled. She grabbed his hand – careful not to hold it too tightly – and felt a great sense of relief.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Then, they started forward.

It felt as though the serpents were watching them move. (Y/N) half expected them to come to life, though she knew it was foolish.

Finally, they reached the end, and a tall, tall statue loomed ahead of them. It was an ancient stone face with a beard that dipped in the murky water below. And just on the water's edge lay a small girl with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!"

Together, they ran to her side and Harry dropped to his knees as he tried to shake her awake. "Oh, Ginny, please don't be dead," he mumbled, tossing his wand aside carelessly. He urgently shook her shoulders. "Wake up! Wake up!"

(Y/N) noticed the poor girl was unusually pale, and her skin was like ice to the touch. In her arms, she clutched Tom Riddle's diary and she, unlike the countless petrified students in the hospital wing, had her eyes closed. (Y/N)'s breath caught. Was she...?

"Please," said Harry desperately. "Wake up,"

"She won't wake."

(Y/N) nearly jumped out of her skin.

A tall, dark-haired boy stood at the edge of the darkness, watching them. He was dressed in Slytherin robes and looked no older than sixteen. (Y/N) wondered how long he'd been there and why he hadn't gone to get help. He looked remarkably calm as he approached them and (Y/N) had just begun to panic when Harry said, "Tom – Tom Riddle!"

He nodded in confirmation. (Y/N) felt a great rush of relief; he was an ally.

"What do you mean 'she won't wake?'" Harry questioned. "She's not...?"

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

"Are you a ghost?"

He shook his head. "A memory," he answered. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

(Y/N) understood why he hadn't gone to get help; he couldn't go anywhere when the diary was secured in Ginny's arms. She set her wand aside and gently took it from her hands. "She's freezing," said (Y/N). She tried once more to wake her to no avail. "We need to get her out of here before the basilisk comes."

"It won't come until it's called," Riddle promised.

Harry stood, slowly moving to stand in between the girls and Riddle. "Give us our wands, Tom."

(Y/N)'s breath caught. She ventured a look up and sure enough, Riddle stood a few feet away, twirling their wands with his long fingers. Her heart sunk.

"You won't be needing them,"

"But–" (Y/N) managed. "Ginny – she needs our help. W-What if—"

"I'm afraid I can't let you help her, (Y/N)," he said coolly. "You see, as poor Ginny grows weaker, I grow stronger." His lips curled upwards as he gaged their reactions. "Yes, it was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets."

(Y/N) went rigid.

"No," Harry sounded breathless. "She couldn't. She wouldn't!"

"It was Ginny who set the basilisk on the Mudbloods and Filch's cat; Ginny who wrote the threatening messages on the walls."

"But why?" demanded Harry.

"Because I told her to," came Riddle's reply. "You'll find that I can be very persuasive. Not that she knew what she was doing. She was, shall we say, in a kind of trance. Still, the power of the diary began to scare her, and she tried to dispose of it in the girls' bathroom. And who should find it but you?" His smile broadened. "The two people I was most anxious to meet."

(Y/N) found her voice. "What do you want with us?"

"To talk to you; meet both of you if I could. So, I decided to show you my capture of that brainless oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust. And I knew once Harry told you, you'd trust me as well. Both of you were so easily convinced."

Harry stepped forward, hands clenched into fists. "Hagrid's our friend! And you framed him, didn't you?"

"It was my word against Hagrid's. Only Dumbledore seemed to think he was innocent."

"I'll bet Dumbledore saw right through you," grumbled Harry.

"He certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after that. I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the chamber again while I was still at school, so I decided to leave behind a diary preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, I would be able to lead another to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it this time," Harry said, a defiant smile tugging on his lips. "In a few hours, the Mandrake Draught will be ready, and everyone who was petrified will be alright again."

"Haven't I told you? Killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore," Riddle said. "For many months, my new target had been you. How is it that a baby, with no extraordinary magical talent, was able to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care how I escaped? He was after your time."

"Voldemort," said Riddle, lips curling into a vicious sneer. "Is my past, present, and future,"

He swiftly turned and pulled out Harry's wand. He seemed to burn the letters into the air as he wrote: Tom Marvolo Riddle. And then, with one simple swish of the wand, the letters had rearranged themselves to spell I Am Lord Voldemort.

(Y/N) suddenly felt very faint. The diary felt heavy in her hands, dangerous – and she let it fall onto the stone ground. "It's you." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

"You're the Heir of Slytherin," Harry didn't falter. "You're Voldemort,"

"Surely," Riddle turned, face twisted with anger. "You didn't think I was going to keep my filthy Muggle father's name? No. I fashioned myself a new name – a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world."

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

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

(Y/N) felt her blood run cold; he was right. She was just about to believe him – believe that hope was lost and that they were better off giving up when Harry, as brave as always, defiantly shouted back, "He'll never be gone! Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him!"

Then, as if summoned, there was a loud screech that echoed off the walls. Everyone looked, and there, flying with the old, dirty Sorting Hat was a beautiful phoenix.

Harry allowed himself to smile. "Fawkes?"

He dropped the hat into his outstretched arms and Harry quickly unraveled it. However, that was all Fawkes had brought – a hat – and (Y/N) wondered what on Earth they were supposed to do with that.

Riddle smiled cruelly; it seemed he was thinking the same thing. "So this is what Dumbledore sends his great defenders," he turned towards the large statue against the end of the chamber. "A songbird, and an old hat,"

Harry shared a panicked look with (Y/N). She could tell by his expression that he wanted her to tell him what to do, but she was terrified – she was only a second-year; she didn't have a clue. Ginny was getting closer and closer to death with each passing second while Riddle was only getting stronger. She didn't have a wand; all she had to defend herself was a phoenix that flew off someplace else and a tattered old hat.

Before either of them could think, Riddle began speaking in a low, chilling hiss that echoed around the chamber. (Y/N) could hear stone against stone as Slytherin's mouth opened. Somewhere in the darkness, she could make out the faint silhouette of the Basilisk.

She could hear his grin as Riddle said, "Let's match the power of Lord Voldemort and the Heir of Salazar Slytherin against famous Harry Potter and (Y/N) (L/N)."

"Harry–"

But before she could finish, he pulled her up by her arm and shoved her to run. "Come on!" he insisted.

Riddle hissed something in Parseltongue – (Y/N) didn't dare to imagine what he said – and then shouted after them, "Parseltongue won't save your friends, now, Potter! It only obeys me!"

Her heart pounded as loudly as the sound of the Basilisk slithering across the floor. What if she wasn't fast enough? What if Harry wasn't fast enough? What if Riddle decided to attack them while their backs were turned?

To her horror, poor Harry slipped and tumbled to the ground. She rushed to help him, catching sight of the Basilisk's scaly body before she hastily closed her eyes. Harry's hands fumbled for her own, and once she had hold of him, she helped him to his feet, just in time to hear Fawkes screech.

"Look!" exclaimed Harry.

"Look?" (Y/N) kept her eyes squeezed shut.

From far off behind them, she heard Riddle call "Your bird may have blinded the Basilisk, but it can still hear you!"

"Let's go!" and Harry tugged her along once more, just before the basilisk dove for them.

(Y/N) let Harry guide her, still too anxious to open her eyes. She could feel cold water splashing up onto her clothes as they ran. Harry let go of her hand for a moment and, startled, (Y/N) opened her eyes.

He climbed into a massive pipe and was reaching down to offer her a hand. "Hurry up!" he said.

She didn't need to be told twice. She latched onto his hand and climbed up. She'd barely made it in when the basilisk dove for her and broke stone instead.

They took off once more, wet footsteps echoing throughout the pipe. She could hear the basilisk inching closer and closer, and its hisses growing louder and louder. It was then she came to the terrible conclusion that they could not outrun the serpent.

She tightened her grip on Harry's hand, pulling him into another opening. And the end stood five thick, metal bars – they would be stuck.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed. "Let's go!"

"Shut up!" she whispered harshly.

They stood, silent as death, in the dim green glow.

(Y/N) could see the serpentine shadow inching closer. Harry moved slowly in front of her and (Y/N) hugged his arm tight, peering cautiously over his shoulder.

The basilisk slithered slowly into the pipe where they stood. (Y/N) held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She could smell the wet stench of the serpent, feel it's hot breath as it got close. She felt like she was going to be sick, and was absolutely certain that would be the end of the line when –

click click click

The basilisk slithered away.

She opened one wary eye was Harry stepped forward to look around the corner. Then, after a moment of certainty, he looked back and beckoned her forward. They were safe – for the moment.

Coming out of the opposite end of the pipe, they found themselves right back at the front of the chamber. They hurried back to Ginny's side and Harry rushed to check her wrist for a pulse.

"Yes,"  said Riddle, watching down the bridge of his nose. "The process is nearly complete. In a few minutes, Ginny will be dead, and I will cease to be a memory. Lord Voldemort will return— very... much... alive."

"Ginny..."

There was a loud splash, and the basilisk burst from the water just in front of them. (Y/N) noticed a glimmer and glanced towards the hat to see a beautiful silver sword, but before she could say a word, Harry snatched it up and raced towards the great snake.

(Y/N) couldn't bear to watch him, so she tried again to shake Ginny awake to no avail. She felt utterly powerless; completely useless. She glanced over at Riddle. She'd just begun to weigh her odds of stealing a wand from him when a terrible, piercing cry echoed around the chamber.

Harry had done it.

The basilisk, once big and mighty, writhed in pain, tumbling down and down from its tall stance. (Y/N) dove over Ginny, covering her own head with her arms and hoping to all things good that the great snake would fall anywhere but on top of them. There was a loud crash; the chamber shook, and then, it was quiet.

(Y/N) ventured a look up. The basilisk lay just a few feet before her, dead against the stone. Harry came around the serpent's nose, his fingers loosely wrapped around the sword's hilt, struggling to keep himself up. He was covered with blood, which, at first glance, (Y/N) thought was the basilisk's. Then she saw the way that he clutched at his arm and heard the sword clatter against the ground.

"Harry!" she cried, racing to brace him just before he fell to his knees.

He leaned heavily against her, his breaths labored and tired. "S-Sorry," he managed, pulling a bloodied basilisk fang from his arm. She could hear the pain in the edge of his voice.

"What?" she asked meekly. "Why're you apologizing?"

"Remarkable, isn't it?" Riddle asked. He grinned cruelly at (Y/N), as though he was pleased to see the tears that welled in her eyes. "How quickly the venom of the basilisk penetrates the body. I guess he has little more than a minute to live."

She caught herself just before she began to plead for help. She would find none from the Dark Lord himself, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. (Y/N) would die in that chamber, just like poor Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. She had done nothing, and there was nothing left she could do.

"You'll be with your dear mudblood mother soon, Harry," said Riddle. He looked right past (Y/N) as though she were nothing. "It's funny the damage a silly little book can do. Especially in the hands of a silly little girl."

Her breath caught. She'd nearly forgotten all about that bloody diary until then. As she reached for it, she almost smiled. Riddle was bright – to preserve one's memory in an object she was sure was no easy task. However, he was also remarkably stupid. If she had preserved her memory in a diary so she could come back to life, she wouldn't have told her enemies that was all that was left of her. Nor given them the means to destroy it.

She grasped the basilisk's fang in her fist, feeling Harry's warm blood slide against her fingertips. She tried to ignore it and instead looked up at Riddle. (Y/N) took great pleasure in seeing the spark of fear in his eyes. It was then she knew she'd won.

"What are you doing?"

She felt herself smile. "It's funny the damage a silly little book can do," she taunted him, raising the fang high. "Especially in the hands of a silly little girl!"

"Stop! NO!"

And (Y/N) plunged the fang into the book harshly, twisting it relentlessly into the leather cover.

Thick, black liquid squirted out and mixed with the blood on her hands. Riddle staggered towards her, but (Y/N) wouldn't let him reach her or her friends. She tore open the diary and used all her strength to lodge the fang through the pages.

A bright ball of light erupted from Riddle's chest. He doubled over, screaming terribly until he crumbled away into nothing. In time, all that remained of the great Lord Voldemort was nothing more than a few falling embers.

As the silence fell over the chamber, (Y/N) felt the shock fall over her. She stared, gasping, at the spot where he last stood, until she remembered Harry. She dropped the fang, only just realizing the way her hands trembled and tried to sit him up.

"We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey," she said. "She can help you,"

Just then, Ginny Weasley awoke and tried to get a sense of her surroundings. Her wide eyes fell on (Y/N) and Harry, and she went to apologize at once.

"It was me, but I swear, I didn't mean to. Riddle made me, and—" Her gaze fell on Harry's arm, and the poor thing looked horrified. "Harry, you're hurt!"

"Help me," Said (Y/N). "He needs to get to the hospital wing."

Ginny nodded, rushing to his other side. However, as soon as she got there, Harry waved her away.

"No," He said. "Ginny, you need to get yourself out. Go with (Y/N), she knows the way. She'll bring you to Ron."

(Y/N) shook her head, growing impatient. "No, Harry—"

"You have to go!" Harry insisted.

"No!" said (Y/N) through tears, nearly shouting. "We're not leaving you here!"

Harry stared soundlessly at her with an expression she couldn't read. From somewhere far off in the Chamber flew a bright patch of scarlet, and Fawkes landed next to (Y/N).

"You were brilliant, Fawkes. I just wasn't quick enough." Harry said.

Fawkes leaned over and blinked his tears into Harry's open wound. All three of the students stared, waiting, until finally, Harry's arm began to heal.

"Of course!" Harry looked at (Y/N), grinning. His emerald eyes had gone back to their bright shade. "Phoenix tears have healing powers!" (Y/N)'s eyes welled with tears as he turned to the phoenix beside them. "Thanks!"

"Oh!" (Y/N) threw her arms around Harry, nearly tackling him to the ground with a hug.  "You've got to be more careful Harry!" She exclaimed as Harry hugged her back, his face slightly red.

"I will next time." He promised sheepishly.

"There better not be a next time," she said firmly.

 Harry hugged her for a few moments longer, then he suddenly let go, awkwardly clearing his throat. She followed his gaze to little Ginny Weasley, staring blankly at them. Ginny went red as soon as she and (Y/N) locked eyes, and (Y/N), mortified, tried to busy herself with collecting what remained of the diary.

"It's alright, Ginny. It's over," Harry assured her kindly. "It's just a memory,"