The second-floor girls' restroom reeked of dampness and despair. A tall, slender figure swept into the lavatory, his dark robes billowing with a theatrical flourish.
"Waaah..."
A girl's pathetic sob echoed through the tiled room.
"Intolerable," Tom muttered, his lip curling in distaste. The wailing paused, then resumed with redoubled force.
Ignoring the perpetually weeping Myrtle, Tom strode to the circular washbasin in the center of the room. "Open," he hissed in Parseltongue.
With a grinding groan, the sink began to slide outward, revealing the gaping maw of the Chamber of Secrets—a dark, promising void.
Myrtle's sobs hitched. She floated out of a nearby toilet stall, her spectral face streaked with tears. "Wait... I know you!"
Gazing at the tall figure cloaked in black, Myrtle's mind conjured a fleeting image of a younger version of Tom, constantly surrounded by adoring sycophants. Tom wasn't all that different from the boy she remembered from her death.
She hadn't a clue as to how he managed to remain so young after all these years. Seeing the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets creaking open, Myrtle had no time to ponder.
She already knew the truth—the one who had snuffed out her corporeal existence now stood before her! This realization triggered a fresh wave of hysterical crying, even louder than before.
"..."
Blast it all! Here we go again!
I didn't even do anything!
Tom clenched his jaw in frustration, then snapped, his patience wearing thin, "Cease this caterwauling! I shall compensate you, do you hear?"
If it had been any other ghost, he would have obliterated it without a second thought. But this particular spirit was truly pathetic, lost in a state of perpetual sadness. She showed no signs of wanting to cause trouble. Tom Riddle wasn't entirely without mercy.
"Waaah... how will you compensate me? Waaah..." Myrtle blubbered, her voice thick with tears.
"Name your desire," Tom said, confident he could satisfy her demands. Whilst he wasn't omnipotent, he was more than capable of meeting most requests.
"I've never been in love, waaah..."
"..."
Tom stared, dumbfounded. Did this ghost, dead for fifty years, really have such lingering romantic… needs? But the issue was easily solved. "I will find you a companion. Is that acceptable?"
He could have Harry and Malfoy come calling another day.
Hearing these words, Myrtle finally quieted. "Really… truly?"
Tom said nothing, simply leaping into the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.
Myrtle silently gazed at the opening. Even though Tom had "murdered" her, she found herself believing his promise. After all, he could have ignored her with very little effort.
Little did Tom know what swam through her thoughts. As he descended into the Chamber, he'd already decided to send Malfoy and Harry her way, and whether they hit it off was none of his concern.
...
He landed gracefully at the bottom of the opening and pressed forward into the cave.
Tom followed the winding tunnel deeper and deeper until he arrived at a large, round door carved with writhing serpent figures.
"Open," he commanded in Parseltongue.
The door swung inward, revealing the full, ominous expanse of the Chamber of Secrets.
The chamber was extraordinarily vast. Imposing serpent statues lined the passageway leading to a wall carved with a massive human head. The head was bald, with a thick, flowing beard.
Tom approached the statue and uttered a command in Parseltongue, "Speak to me! Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts founders!"
From within the statue, the basilisk instantly opened its enormous serpentine eyes. That voice… Master…
Click.
The passage in the statue's mouth opened, and a gigantic, terrifying serpent emerged at unsettling speed.
"Hsss… hsss…"
The basilisk, as excited as a puppy, pressed its massive, meter-long head against Tom.
"Enough, Uroboros, restrain yourself."
Tom pushed away the enormous head that was nuzzling him affectionately, his face a mask of distaste.
His eyes were basilisk eyes, controllable and immune to the creature's deadly gaze.
Uroboros, its name bestowed by Salazar Slytherin, would remain unchanged, for now.
After its initial burst of enthusiasm, some spark of recognition seemed to ignite within Uroboros's simple mind. It couldn't understand why it now had two masters, but one was obviously more powerful, more… complete. He was, without a doubt, the true master!
Without hesitation, it began to recount the betrayal of Darren Travers and the lingering fragment of Voldemort's soul within the diary.
"I am aware," Tom assured the creature. "I will deal with them. Enter here, first."
With a flick of his wrist, Tom conjured a standard-looking briefcase from thin air.
Opening the case, Tom gestured for Uroboros to crawl inside. Trusting Tom completely, the massive serpent dove headfirst into the narrow opening.
The briefcase was the same one Nagini had used previously, enhanced with an Undetectable Extension Charm. The interior was smaller than Newt Scamander's suitcase, yet still surprisingly spacious.
Once Uroboros was entirely within the confines of the suitcase, Tom allowed a wicked leer to stretch across his face. "Hehehe… I shall take even the basilisk. Let's see how you deal with that."
For Tom, "playing" with Uroboros was far from a fair duel. It involved torturing his opponent to a slow, agonizing death. The more miserable his enemy, the greater his satisfaction.
Tom closed the suitcase, humming a jaunty tune as he turned to leave.
"Hmm?"
He approached one of the serpent head statues, gently running his hand over its cold, stony surface. His fingers traced the faint etchings, and he realized they were words!
[Item: Ancient Giant Serpent Statue]
[Quality: Common]
[Use: None… Perhaps suitable for decoration]
[Description: An ordinary stone statue engraved with ancient magical incantations]
The information flooded into Tom's mind.
Ancient magical incantations…
During his time as a student, he'd dismissed these carvings as mere decoration. Now, after delving into the intricacies of ancient magic, the symbols seemed vaguely familiar.
Tom examined each serpent head statue, one by one. All were engraved with different ancient magical incantations. The incantations appeared fractured, incomplete. But when combined, they formed a single, coherent sentence.
Tom recited the finished spell. It sounded like a eulogy celebrating Salazar Slytherin.
Tom scoffed. "That old man was a narcissist."
BOOM!
As the words left his lips, the chamber shuddered violently.
The human head statue on the wall at the end of the passageway abruptly glowed with an eerie green luminescence, and a ghostly figure emerged. The figure was the spitting image of the statue.
Tom recognized the spectral entity immediately—it was Salazar Slytherin himself!
"..."
Man and ghost stared at one another, eyes wide.
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