A Little Trip Through a Diary / TOMIONE (COMPLETE)

Chapter Twelve: The First Victim

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

_Draco, Chamber of Secrets_

When Ginevra awoke the next morning, the dormitory was buzzing with chatter and she didn't particularly think it was a good thing.

"What's happened?" She asked worriedly.

Margot Droope turned to look at her, bed head and all.

"Someone's been Petrified," she said bluntly.

"Petrified?" Ginevra asked, feigning ignorance. Her heart beat faster. "As in_?"

"Dead to the world, motionless, cold as stone, yes," replied another glum girl, Marietta Edgecombe's grandmother Lizzie.

"Do we know who it is?"

"It's a Hufflepuff," she was informed by Lizzie's best friend, Imogen. "Eddie Smith."

Ginevra wasn't sure whether this was Zacharias Smith's grandfather or instead someone completely unrelated but was disturbed nonetheless. Of all the years she could pick, she'd found the one where Tom Riddle set out on his Mudblood killing spree?

*

Tom Riddle sat at the Slytherin table, tapping his long slender figures on the table in utter boredom. Abraxas, next to him, wore his usual mask of either idiocy or indifference (Tom could never tell), and Alphard Black kept sighing on his other side.

"Shut up, Black," he snapped quietly. "We have to look suitably worried."

"Yes, My Lord," Alphard acquiesced. 

The sighing stopped at once.

"I am suitably worried, Tom," Abraxas whispered. "Have you covered your tracks, entirely?"

"There are no tracks to cover, Abraxas," Tom replied, eyes fixed on the teachers hurrying round in the distance. "I'll explain later in the dormitory."

*

"You see, Abraxas, the monster that lurks in the Chamber of Secrets is a basilisk."

"I'd guessed that much."

Tom lay on his back, staring up at the canopy of his four-poster. Abraxas sat on the bed next to him, cross-legged. Neither seemed particularly amused by the topic of conversation.

"The heir of Slytherin has the ability to speak with snakes," Tom continued.

"Parseltongue," Abraxas said dully.

"And so I could lure the basilisk out of its hiding place and through the pipes of the school to Smith. I was not even at the scene of the crime, and therefore I have no need to cover my tracks."

"You are the heir of Slytherin."

"Are you really so surprised?" Tom questioned, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"No," Abraxas sighed. "But, a Half-blood, the heir of Slytherin? Forgive me if I find that slightly dubious."

Tom slashed out with his wand. A gash appeared on Abraxas' cheek. Blood splattered onto his robes.

"Why did you do that, Tom?" Abraxas whispered, feeling at his sore cheek.

"Anybody could have heard you," Tom replied emotionlessly.

Abraxas got his own wand out and healed the gash with a non-verbal swish. Then he cleaned his robes with another wave.

"Be careful, Tom," Abraxas said eventually, and walked to the door. "I won't always be there to look after you."

Then he exited, leaving Tom in uncomfortable silence. If any of his followers had looked in they would have seen the same boy who was left at the orphanage all those years ago. Broken and alone, and apprehensive to what the future would bring.

*****

A.N. And I thought this was a long chapter! *sigh* Oh well.

Thank you for reading and feel free to give advice, constructive criticism and, ABOVE ALL, comments!!!!!!