Make Me.

Book 2 - Chapter 18

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support the ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. 

Ellie could hear Harry's heart beating though his chest cavity, over the strong thuds of her own in her ears. 

The pair stood for a moment, listening to the chill silence. 

Ellie's wand was still shining overhead as they moved forward, between the serpentine columns. Every single one of their footsteps echoed loudly off the shadowy walls, and subconsciously, their gaits had aligned, cutting down on the amount of noisy steps they took. Ellie kept her eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. She didn't dare to wonder if the gaze of the basilisk would actually kill her, given her condition, but aired on the side of cautiousness, not wanting to ever find out.

The hallow eye socks of the stone snakes seemed to be following them as they progressed through the chamber. More than once, Harry jumped up in fright at the sight of one of the carvings. His wand-light was trembling overhead, making the serpents look like they were actually moving. 

As they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Ellie had to crane her neck to look up into the giant face above. She recognized the carving of the man immediately; there were portraits and busts of him scattered all around the Slytherin common room. 

"That's Salazar Slytherin," Ellie whispered, voice barely audible. The man was ancient looking, with a long, thin beard that fell to the bottom of his sweeping stone robes where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth chamber floor. And, between the feet, face-down, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair. 

"Ginny!" Harry muttered before taking off into a sprint, into the heart of the Chamber, and dropping to his knees. "Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead -" Harry was muttering as he flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turner her over. 

Ellie took a few cautious steps forward, enough to see Ginny's skin had turned white as marble and her eyes were closed. 

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Her head was lolling hopelessly from side to side. 

"She won't wake," said a soft voice. 

Ellie's eyes shot up from the floor at the same time her wand pointed out in front of her menacingly. 

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as through Ellie was looking at him though a misty window. But there was no mistaking him. 

"Tom Riddle?" Ellie's voice was no louder than a breath, yet it echoed around the Chamber walls. 

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes of of Harry's face, who was still on his knees on the ground with Ginny. 

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry asked desperately. "She's not - she's not -?" 

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

 Ellie stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, not a day older than sixteen. 

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly. 

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years." He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary they had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.