*Drip, drop.*
The sound of a water droplet shattering as it hit the hard floor.
That was the first thing Harry heard when he came to his senses.
*Drip, drop.*
In the dead silence, only the sound of the falling water droplet echoed, ringing loudly in his ears.
*Where am I? The sound is echoing, so it must be a large cavern.*
The air felt cool, so it was likely a cave.
Even while not fully conscious, Harry instinctively analyzed his situation.
He tried to shift his body and heard a clanking sound.
Moving his strangely disobedient body, he traced the source of the noise. It was coming from his right arm.
Ah.
Seeing it, Harry finally understood what was happening.
Before he passed out. At that time, he had been…
"Hm, you're awake?"
A crisp voice sounded from his side.
It was a refreshing and pleasant tone, yet there was a sharp chill hidden somewhere within it.
He turned his head and saw a man he had never seen before.
He had lustrous black hair and a face that was handsome at a single glance. But his skin was pale and somewhat translucent.
He was more vivid than a ghost, yet too faint to be a person, as if he existed on the boundary between the two.
Moreover, though it was an unfamiliar face, the man's aura was incredibly familiar.
Harry frowned and asked, "Who are you?"
The man's lips curled into a smirk. "Why don't you take a guess?"
He then spread his arms wide, revealing the scenery behind him.
Only then did Harry know for sure where he was.
All around were statues and reliefs that must have once stood magnificently. But now, they were broken and defiled by someone's hand.
…Of course, it had been Harry's doing.
Yes. This was the Chamber of Secrets.
If so, he could naturally deduce the identity of the man before him.
Harry asked, as if in disbelief, "Then, you're Tom Riddle?"
At that, the man, Tom Riddle, grinned. "Yes, Harry Potter. I am Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle."
Harry found it impossible to believe that the pathetic, parasitic form of Voldemort that had clung to Quirrell and this handsome young man before him were the same person.
Harry remembered what his master had said. Dark wizards, as a species, were prone to falling into ugliness due to their inferiority complexes… His words were true indeed.
Perhaps sensing a hint of pity in Harry's expression, Tom Riddle's face twisted strangely. Regardless, Harry remained calm and spoke, buying time.
"Why am I here?"
"Don't you remember, Potter? The end of our beautiful duel."
The memory of his duel with Riddle wearing Lockhart's face flashed through his mind. Harry realized he had lost that duel and been brought here.
Harry said, a little dejectedly, "So, I lost."
Tom Riddle saw this and burst into manic laughter. "Hahaha! Yes, Potter. Your skills are certainly worthy of the name 'The Boy Who Lived.' But the one who won here was I, Lord Voldemort…"
"Shut up, Riddle. Have you no shame?"
"What?"
"Getting so excited over beating a twelve-year-old. Doesn't the name 'Dark Lord' feel embarrassing now?"
Even if there was no such thing as fair play in a real battle, what was so praiseworthy about Voldemort defeating a twelve-year-old boy whose skills were not yet fully developed?
Harry felt his suspicions solidifying.
Compared to the Voldemort who had been a parasite on Quirrell last year, this one was far too 'young.' In skill, in mindset, in everything.
If that was the case, this wasn't the real Voldemort. It was more like…
*'A fragment of Voldemort… something like that?'*
The Dark Arts encompassed all sorts of things; it was entirely possible for there to be magic that could split a personality to create a copy.
As if to prove Harry's guess, the mask on the Tom Riddle before him seemed to waver at a simple provocation.
Tom Riddle spoke through what sounded like clenched teeth. "Alright, Potter. You don't seem to understand your situation yet. You lost the duel and have been captured in the Chamber of Secrets. That means no one can save you. Not even that troublesome old man, Dumbledore."
Hearing this, Harry had to force his facial muscles to remain neutral to keep from smirking.
*As if.*
As if to prove him right, a rumbling sound was heard from somewhere.
Having already entered the Chamber of Secrets once by using Parseltongue, Harry knew exactly what that sound was. It was the sound of the Chamber's entrance opening.
Hearing the sound, a smile spread across Harry's face, while Riddle's expression contorted.
"…Alright, Potter. I was wrong. I didn't think they'd actually make it this far."
As if to check the situation, Riddle pulled a wand from his coat.
Harry, possessing a sharp memory, soon realized he had seen that wand somewhere before.
It was none other than the wand of that Slytherin ruffian, Draco Malfoy.
He wouldn't have been so surprised if it had been Lockhart's wand. But Malfoy's? And now that he thought about it, where was the Lockhart that Riddle had been controlling?
His thoughts reaching that point, Harry asked, "That wand… What happened to Malfoy, and Lockhart?"
At Harry's words, Riddle replied with an amused smile. "Ah, Lockhart and Malfoy? They were… my hosts, so to speak. They were very useful in getting me here. But alas, it is time to dispose of them."
Riddle then raised the wand and pointed somewhere. Following the tip of the wand, Harry saw two blond-haired figures lying collapsed, seemingly unconscious.
They looked as if their life force was being drained away. It was Lockhart and Malfoy.
Riddle shrugged. "I feel truly sorry for them for all their hard work, but I need their life force to gain a complete form."
"You don't look sorry at all."
"Ah, you caught me? Well, rather than living out their pathetic lives, wouldn't it be far more glorious to die having offered their lives to the King of Darkness?"
After that shameless reply, Tom Riddle gave a vile smile. "By the way, Potter. Do you have time to worry about them? I'm about to kill all your friends right in front of your eyes. The ones who came to save you."
As he spoke, Riddle showed Harry the image reflected in a crystal ball he had conjured.
"See, Potter? This is the hope you were counting on. How foolish can you be, just two mere students."
Riddle peered into the crystal ball for a moment, then chuckled. "Ah, yes. I've read about them in Malfoy's and Lockhart's memories. Aisen Potter and Hermione Granger, was it? Is he your brother, Potter? And a Muggle-born, too. You should have brought Dumbledore if you wanted to face me!"
Harry let out a muffled chuckle. "Well, Riddle. Let me correct you on a few things."
"What did you say?"
"First, the person you called Aisen Potter isn't actually my brother. He's my master."
"That little brat is your master?"
"Yes, Riddle. And his name isn't Potter. It's Knightly. Aisen Knightly."
Knightly, Knightly. Riddle rolled the name around in his mouth for a moment. "And what does that matter? What does it matter what a man's name is if he's about to die at my hands?"
But Harry was still chuckling. "And, now that you've heard that name."
*BOOM! KABOOM!*
A tremendous sound erupted, as if the cave itself was collapsing.
"Riddle, you're going to die today."
*You've learned a name you shouldn't have known, haven't you?*
Riddle narrowed his eyes. "…That kind of outdated, cheap ghost story isn't even amusing. But, fine… if you insist, Potter."
*[Come to me. Obey the command of your true master!]*
At the Parseltongue that came from Riddle's mouth, the pouch tied to Harry's cloak began to squirm.
"Wait, no. If you come out now…!"
Hearing Harry's voice tinged with alarm for the first time, a deep smile flashed across Riddle's face.
—*SCREEEEECH!*
In an instant, the Basilisk burst out of the small pouch, growing to a massive size.
Riddle spoke to a frozen Harry. "Well, Harry. Did you really think I wouldn't know? Did you think I wouldn't be able to control the Basilisk just because you kept it by your side?"
Riddle sneered, never knowing that Harry's cry of alarm had been for the Basilisk's sake.
*[Basilisk, go and vanquish your enemies. Protect the Chamber of Secrets!]*
—*HIIISSSSSSS!!*
Letting out a bloodcurdling cry, the Basilisk instantly slithered toward the entrance.
Watching the Basilisk, Tom Riddle, standing behind it, let out a maniacal laugh. "Hahahaha! Now, Harry Potter! Watch! Watch as the hope you believed in kneels before the great power of Slytherin!"
But despite Tom Riddle's words, Harry only wore a subtle frown.
"Riddle, are you serious?"
"What did you say?"
—*SCREEEEECH!*
The Basilisk's cry echoed just then.
But something was strange.
—*Screek! Screek!*
That sound was not the cry of a predator hunting its prey… no, it was more like the scream of prey trying to escape.
***
The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets clanked open.
Before Hermione could say anything, I felt a presence rushing towards us at lightning speed.
*THUD!*
There was no time to speak. I quickly and silently used a pinning charm to slam Hermione to the ground.
"Ack! Aisen, what are you doing all of a sudden—"
"Stay down. It's the Basilisk."
*SWOOOOSH—*
A giant shadow surged forward.
It flew toward us with a speed unbelievable for such a massive serpent.
—*SCREEEEECH!!*
And then, the Basilisk met my eyes.
…
…
…
—*Screek?*
The Basilisk tilted its head, a look of confusion on its face.
I couldn't understand Parseltongue perfectly, but I could at least grasp the meaning behind its cry.
*[Human, why are you not dying?]*
I grinned, my golden eyes flashing, and replied, *[Snake, you need not know.]*
The Basilisk's petrification occurs when its eyes meet another's. A gaze is the reception of light. The Basilisk's petrifying eyes are a dark magic cast upon that light.
However, my eyes are special. They are golden eyes that cannot be penetrated by some measly magic woven into a simple gaze.
In other words.
*[Your eyes don't work on me.]*
*KABOOM!*
—*SCREEEEECH!*
The Basilisk shrieked in pain as it was hit by my attack.
I was about to raise the Elder Wand to slice the Basilisk to pieces and enter, but then I sensed a familiar aura from it.
"…Harry's aura?"
For some reason, I could feel Harry's aura on the Basilisk, so I put my plan to kill it on hold.
"Sleep for a while. Stupefy."
And with that, the Basilisk was knocked unconscious. A completely different outcome from what a certain heir had expected.
***
Harry gritted his teeth and shouted at Riddle, "Riddle, what are you going to do! You just got Silly hurt!"
"Silly?"
"Yeah, the Basilisk's nickname."
Riddle turned his head away as if he'd heard something he shouldn't have and muttered, "…No, there's no way the Basilisk would be defeated so easily…"
*BOOM!*
*THUD.*
*Click. Clack.*
Before he could finish his sentence, the passage shook as if it would collapse, and he appeared.
In one hand, he dragged the unconscious Basilisk by the scruff of its neck. In the other, he held a wand that emanated a sinister aura.
His golden eyes flickered, and silver-blue strands of hair could be seen here and there amidst his black hair.
It was Aisen Knightly.
"Where is my disciple?"
***