The statue of Salazar Slytherin loomed tall at the center of the stone pillars, encircled by countless columns, each coiled with menacing serpents. Augustus and the others gazed at the imposing figure in silence, each wearing a different expression.
"What's that?" Harry suddenly noticed a fiery red shape at the base of the statue. Drawing his wand, he cautiously moved forward. A small figure in a black robe came into view. "Ginny!" Harry called softly, rushing to her side and kneeling down. "Ginny! Don't die! Please, don't die!" He tossed his wand aside, grabbed her shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was cold and pale, like marble, but her eyes were closed, meaning she hadn't been petrified.
Augustus and the others stepped closer. Ron quickly knelt beside Ginny, his anxiety etched across his face. "Ginny, please wake up," he begged, shaking her desperately. Her head lolled lifelessly.
"The Chamber hasn't had this many visitors in a long time. Welcome," a voice suddenly spoke from behind them. Augustus's eyes flickered with surprise—this presence had materialized out of nowhere, completely undetected even by his Eye of Inquiry. A tall boy with black hair leaned casually against the nearest pillar, watching them intently. His outline was oddly indistinct, as though seen through a foggy window. Yet there was no mistaking his presence.
"Tom... Tom Riddle?"
Riddle nodded, his gaze fixed on Harry. "Don't bother trying to wake her. She won't wake up."
"What do you mean? What's happened to her?" Ron demanded angrily, glaring at the strange figure.
"She's alive," Riddle replied, "but not for much longer."
"You have a peculiar form," Augustus remarked, his silver eyes glinting with intrigue. "A ghost, perhaps? No, ghosts don't appear this way. Fascinating... truly fascinating." Streams of faint data transmitted through the Eye of Inquiry into Augustus's mind, further piquing his curiosity.
For a moment, Riddle seemed startled, his gaze fixed on Augustus's whirling eyes. A brief confusion clouded his face, as though he were standing under the scrutiny of a merciless sun, feeling as if every secret within him was being laid bare. This unnerved him for reasons he couldn't explain. "It's a memory," Riddle admitted, regaining his composure. His expression returned to calm confidence. "Preserved for fifty years in a diary." He pointed to the base of the statue, where Harry had earlier discovered the diary in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"The power of memory... to exist in such a form. Even in my homeland, this would be a rare accomplishment. Only those who have reached a certain threshold of power could wield such magic. It seems your true self must be exceptionally formidable," Augustus said with a faint smile.
"Indeed," Loki added, his amber eyes alight with curiosity. "I've read about similar techniques—extracting memories and imbuing them with life—but they're forbidden now, outlawed by the Ministry of Magic. Such spells often involve powerful dark magic. These are not paths a righteous wizard would tread."
Riddle gave a slight smile, his interest piqued as he noticed the serpent emblem on Augustus and Loki's robes. "So, you're Slytherin students. It seems today's Slytherin students are of remarkable quality—so young, yet so knowledgeable."
"Whatever the diary and its origins, we can discuss them later. The priority now is getting Ginny out of here," Harry interjected urgently. "Have you forgotten the basilisk could be lurking around? It could appear at any moment. Help me!"
Ron hurried to assist Harry, and together, they strained to lift Ginny from the ground. Harry bent down to retrieve his wand—but it was gone. "Have you seen my—"
Looking up, he saw Riddle still watching him, casually twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.
"Thanks," Harry said, reaching out for the wand.
But Riddle's smile widened into a strange and unsettling grin. He continued to twirl the wand, making no move to hand it over.
Augustus's silver pupils stopped spinning, and a faint, knowing smile flickered across his face. He stood silently, observing the unfolding events.
"Listen to me," Harry urged, his voice tinged with desperation as Ginny's weight pressed heavily on his knees. "We need to leave! If the basilisk comes—"
"It won't come unless summoned," Riddle said calmly.
Harry set Ginny gently back on the floor, his strength failing him. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Give me my wand—I might need it!"
"You won't need it," Riddle replied, his smile deepening.
Harry stared at him in disbelief.
"What do you mean, I won't—"
"Harry," Loki interrupted coolly, snapping him out of his daze. "Haven't you realized yet? This Tom Riddle isn't on our side. The way he appeared in this eerie chamber—his existence as a memory bound by dark magic—none of this aligns with the methods of a righteous wizard."
"If I'm not mistaken," Augustus said, raising his silver wand. Fire-red letters appeared in the air, spelling out Riddle's name. "You are a memory of Voldemort from fifty years ago. What a clever wordplay, Tom Riddle."
The letters shimmered and rearranged themselves into a chilling phrase: I am Lord Voldemort!
"Well done," Riddle said with a cold laugh. "Such a simple clue, yet you uncovered my true identity."
"Voldemort," he continued softly, "is my past, present, and future. Salazar Slytherin's blood runs in my veins, passed down through his daughter. Do you think I would keep the disgusting name of a Muggle who abandoned me before I was even born simply because he discovered his wife was a witch? No! I devised a new name for myself—a name that, one day, all wizards would fear to speak!"
Augustus listened quietly as Riddle spoke with fervent rage, his silver eyes glinting with an almost imperceptible brilliance.
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