"Tom Riddle! If you've got any courage at all, put down that diary and face me like a wizard!"
Voldemort's voice echoed through the chamber, shrill with fury. His eyes burned crimson as he pointed at Tom, spittle flying. "Is intimidation all you know? Fight me properly! Show me what your magic is worth!"
Tom gave him a cold, amused look. "Little Voldy, you really don't understand the situation, do you?"
His tone was calm, almost casual, even as the sound of something massive slithering closer grew louder in the tunnel behind them. "You, " he said, his voice softening to something dangerous, ", are nothing more than a shadow, a ghostly echo of resentment. You have no flesh, no soul. You're not my rival. You're a reflection. Why would I waste my time fighting a reflection?"
He tilted his head slightly, smirking. "When I meet your real self one day, that's when I'll give him my full attention. But you, " his eyes glinted red, ", your scene is over."
He raised his hand. "Cruciatus."
A crimson light burst from his palm and wrapped around Voldemort. The once-proud Dark Lord let out a hoarse, inhuman scream, clutching at his head as the curse tore through his incorporeal form.
"Kill him! Kill him!" Voldemort howled, voice cracking with pain. "Use your eyes! NOW!"
From the gaping maw of Salazar Slytherin's stone statue came a bone-rattling hiss, and then, it appeared.
The Basilisk, the ancient Serpent King.
Nearly a hundred feet long, its body gleamed an eerie emerald, scales thick as armor, muscles rolling like ocean waves. Two swollen ridges crowned its flattened skull, framing eyes that could bring death with a single glance.
At Voldemort's command, the monster hissed furiously, its titanic body slithering between the pillars, the air vibrating with the scrape of scale on stone.
"Hexa Arcum!"
Tom's wand snapped up. One hand still clamped tightly on the diary, the other rose steadily, his magic pulsing like thunder. Several massive pillars trembled violently , and then ripped free from the floor, arcs of blue lightning crackling across their surfaces.
The electrified columns slammed around the Basilisk, trapping it in a cage of lightning and stone. The serpent thrashed, hissing in fury, its muscles seizing under the paralyzing shocks.
Voldemort, still writhing from the Cruciatus, gritted his teeth and began hurling curses wildly. But each spell either missed or shattered harmlessly against the radiant wings of light and shadow unfurled behind Tom's back.
Tom caught Harry by the collar, who was standing frozen with his eyes screwed shut.
"Not bad," Tom chuckled, hauling him effortlessly off the ground. "You even remember not to look a Basilisk in the eye. I'm impressed."
Harry, eyes still squeezed shut, muttered, "Professor Binns literally just taught us about Herpo the Foul last week. My memory isn't that bad."
Tom laughed under his breath. "Relax, I came prepared. Our eyes and the Basilisk's will never meet."
He rose higher into the air, the black-and-white wings beating with power. Behind them, Voldemort's curses tore through the chamber like silent thunderbolts, some punching holes clean through Tom's glowing feathers , but each wound healed instantly, magic flowing through him like living fire.
Voldemort, however, was unraveling. His form flickered like smoke, fading with every word.
"Tom…" he rasped, his voice now barely a whisper. "You won't escape the consequences of this."
The wand slipped from his spectral hand and clattered to the floor.
"You've inherited everything I once possessed," Voldemort said bitterly, his face twisting. "You'll either sit on a throne of power and never use it, or you'll throw yourself into madness , testing Dumbledore's limits. That's what I see in you."
He looked past Tom to Harry, who stood silent, uncertain.
"Do you know why I wanted Harry Potter here?" Voldemort's smile was serpentine. "To be a witness. Kill him, Tom. Blame it all on me. Then no one will ever know what you've truly gained…"
His laughter broke into a scream , and with a sound like shattering glass, his ghostly form disintegrated into black smoke, sucked violently back into the diary.
The Cruciatus hadn't destroyed his fragment of soul , merely forced it into retreat.
Harry's stomach turned. Voldemort's words clung to his mind like a curse. The way he spoke of Slytherin's "legacy" , what could possibly be so forbidden that even Dumbledore would reject it?
He turned, his voice trembling. "Tom… you're not seriously, "
Tom looked up from the diary, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint smile, he asked, "Why? Did you think I might actually kill you?"
Harry laughed nervously. "That's, that's not funny."
He was unarmed, trembling. If Tom wanted him dead, not even the Boy Who Lived could stop him.
Tom tilted his head. "Who said I was joking?" he said lightly. "Actually… the thought is tempting. Dumbledore's out of the castle tonight, after all."
Harry went pale, his throat locking up.
A thunderous crack echoed through the chamber.
The Basilisk had broken free. With a roar that shook the foundations of Hogwarts, it shattered the electrified pillars, sending chunks of marble flying. Its massive head reared back, jaws yawning wide.
Tom moved instantly.
His wand whipped through the air , and the pressure in the chamber spiked. The air compressed, twisting into a hammer of pure force that slammed upward.
"Up you go."
The invisible blow struck the Basilisk squarely under the jaw, launching the massive creature skyward like a rag doll.
The serpent crashed through the ceiling with a deafening BOOM, leaving a gaping hole above.
Tom caught Harry by the arm and shot upward through the gap in a streak of light, emerging into a shadowed corridor lined with stone.
"Basement level," Tom muttered, scanning the area. "East side of the castle."
He dropped Harry unceremoniously to the floor. "Go up that staircase to your right, then keep running straight until you reach the Potions classroom. You know the rest of the way. Find a professor."
Harry blinked. "What about you?"
"I'll lead the Basilisk out of the castle," Tom said simply. "Can't let it wreck Hogwarts."
Already, the tremors beneath their feet grew louder , the serpent was climbing. Tom thrust out a hand, and a blast of energy hurled Harry down the corridor.
"Go! And tell Hermione and Daphne that if I get eaten, they owe you a kiss."
Harry gaped at him, then groaned, "Just, just don't die, Tom!" and sprinted off, heart pounding.
Tom exhaled, watching him disappear around the corner. "Finally," he muttered with a smirk. "Got the protagonist out of the way."
If Harry's "hero moment" triggered now, he'd probably charge in and ruin everything.
Tom turned, smirking at the shadow moving through the rubble.
"Come on then, sweetheart," he said, raising his wand. "Let's dance."
A volley of curses , elegant, merciless, and laced with mockery , streaked toward the serpent's head, each explosion taunting it further.
Hissing furiously, the Basilisk lunged after him as Tom shot toward the open grounds beyond the castle.
The sixth trial had begun , and compared to what he'd already survived, this one was going to be fun.