Chapter 124: The Unfortunate One
Tom looked up.
There was no fear in his eyes. Instead, they gleamed with the madness of someone driven into a corner.
He suddenly realized that the woman before him, who resembled him so strongly, was far too dangerous.
Whether it was spell casting technique, combat awareness, or the ruthless ferocity radiating from her bones, she completely overwhelmed him.
If this dragged on any longer, the diary would truly be taken.
And if the diary fell into this terrifying woman's hands, it would not merely mean the collapse of his resurrection plan.
It would also mean that this soul fragment of his, which had awakened with such difficulty and gained independent consciousness, would face complete annihilation.
It was a shudder from the depths of the soul, a fear born from pure instinct.
Although he did not know exactly who Tamara was, he had a powerful intuition.
If she obtained the diary, she would never treat him like a friend the way that foolish girl had.
She would erase his consciousness, seal away his magic, and perhaps even completely devour Tom, turning him into part of her own power.
For Tom Riddle, who was obsessed with becoming the sole master and whose arrogance was supreme, such a fate was ten thousand times more terrifying than simple death.
"In your dreams!"
Tom suddenly let out a furious roar.
He did not go to retrieve his wand. Instead, he opened his mouth and hissed into the empty corridor in a chilling, hoarse tongue that made the scalp crawl.
It was Parseltongue.
"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
Almost instantly, Tamara felt a violent tremor from deep within the walls.
That terrifying presence was rapidly approaching through the pipes.
The Basilisk.
Was this lunatic actually summoning the Basilisk here?
Tamara raised an eyebrow. Her sixteen year old self had indeed been too arrogant, showing no concern at all for the enormous trouble it would cause if anyone discovered it.
She stood her ground, her pitch black eyes revealing a trace of disdain and offended anger.
The monster in Slytherin's Chamber was Salazar's legacy to her, her most loyal pet.
"You're courting death."
Tamara sneered coldly.
Trying to use her own pet against her?
How laughable.
She tilted her chin slightly, her lips parting as she prepared to issue a more intimidating command in Parseltongue, ordering the little treasure scurrying through the pipes to go back to sleep.
However, in the very second she prepared to take control of the Basilisk, Tom seized the opportunity with cunning precision.
Taking advantage of Tamara's momentary focus on the wall, Tom, controlling Ginny's body, suddenly sprang up from the floor, grabbed the wand, and dashed toward the other end of the corridor without looking back.
"Hah, trying to run?"
Tamara's eyes turned cold, and she was just about to give chase.
At that moment, hurried footsteps and a slightly trembling voice came from around the corner.
"Sir Nicholas... are you sure it's safe to walk with you? Even from Slytherin's monster..."
It was Justin Finch Fletchley of Hufflepuff.
Justin, who had recently been thoroughly frightened by Harry's Parseltongue, was clinging tightly to Nearly Headless Nick, who floated in midair. He seemed to be treating this ghost, who had already died once, as his only lifeline.
"Oh, don't worry, dear boy."
Nick's pearly white form glowed faintly in the dim corridor, his tone reassuring. "Nothing can harm a person who is already dead. With me, you're perfectly..."
Before Nick could finish speaking, Tom saw the two figures approaching head on, and a malicious gleam flashed in his eyes.
If he was going to run, he might as well create a large enough distraction.
He did not slow down. The Parseltongue spilling from his mouth became more urgent and shrill.
A crack seemed to split open in a water pipe along the wall. Two terrifying, withered yellow eyes flashed through the gap.
Although it was not a direct look, the magic projected from those eyes instantly struck the unfortunate ghost.
"What's th..."
Justin's terrified scream was abruptly cut off.
Filtered through Nick's translucent body, the lethality of the Basilisk's gaze was weakened, but it still turned the ghost into a solid, black, smoke like mass.
Justin, who stood behind Nick, stiffened instantly and fell straight backward.
Thud.
The sound of a body hitting the floor was heavy and horrifying.
After orchestrating the attack, Tom did not hesitate for even a moment. Controlling Ginny, he vanished into the dark stairwell.
Tamara stood where she was, looking at the fallen Justin and the motionless Nick floating in midair.
Her expression was terrifyingly dark.
Damnable fragment.
Not only had he escaped, but he had also left her with this enormous mess.
Tamara did not hesitate any longer and left the scene at once.
She could not let anyone see her here.
Less than half a minute after Tamara left, somewhat hurried footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.
It was Draco Malfoy.
The young master of the Malfoy family was frowning, holding a magical lamp as he searched the dim corridor.
Earlier, during dinner in the Great Hall, after noticing Tamara leave the table early with an unwell expression, Draco had felt his own meal lose all flavor.
He had not even waited for Goyle and Crabbe to finish their mountain of pudding before slipping out alone, hoping to engineer a chance encounter.
"Strange... I clearly saw her heading toward the second floor..."
Draco muttered quietly, his grey eyes full of confusion.
He had also faintly heard the sound of something heavy falling from this direction. Had Tamara run into some kind of trouble?
Thinking this, Draco quickened his pace and rounded the dark corner.
"Tamara, are you here..."
His voice died in his throat.
Draco's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the lamp in his hand.
What lay on the corridor floor before him was not the Slytherin girl's figure.
It was Justin Finch Fletchley.
Justin lay stiffly on the ground, his face frozen in an expression of extreme terror, like an overturned plaster statue.
Beside him, the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, had turned into a bizarre black, smoke like object, floating motionless in midair.
"Merlin's beard..."
Draco sucked in a sharp breath.
But he did not scream and run like an ordinary student would.
On the contrary, after a brief shock, this Slytherin heir raised on pure blood superiority slowly revealed an expression that mixed fear with a faint trace of malicious pleasure.
"Another Mudblood..."
Draco looked at the rigid Justin, and the corner of his mouth even threatened to curl upward.
"It seems the legend of the Chamber is true. Slytherin's heir really is cleansing the school."
He had not seen who the culprit was.
Nor did he connect this incident to Tamara, who had just left.
In his mind, Tamara might be arrogant, but she was a true powerhouse. How could she possibly skulk through corridors attacking people in secret?
Draco simply felt that while this scene was frightening, it was also undeniably satisfying.
However, he had no idea how much trouble this expression of his would bring him.
Standing beside the victim's body, neither notifying a teacher nor showing fear, but instead looking as if he were enjoying the spectacle, was not exactly a convincing display of innocence.
That very night, news of the attack on Justin and Nick spread through Hogwarts as if it had grown wings.
In the Gryffindor Common Room, the atmosphere was oppressively tense.
"It must have been Malfoy!"
Ron sat in an armchair by the fireplace, waving his fist angrily. "Someone saw him prowling around that floor not long after it happened! And he looked downright pleased with himself!"
"I think so too," Harry said grimly, gripping his wand tightly.
His arm, after two hours spent practicing Expelliarmus, was still a little sore.
Images of Malfoy's usual arrogant swagger and his constant use of Mudblood flashed through Harry's mind.
"Who else hates Muggle born Wizards that much? Who else acts like he is Slytherin's heir?"
The more Harry thought about it, the more logical it seemed.
"And... Tamara left dinner very early."
Harry's voice dropped.
"Maybe she knows something, or maybe she's avoiding something. Malfoy's been pestering her constantly. Maybe he bragged about his plans in front of her, so Tamara wants to stay out of it. That's why she told us to stay away from all this!"
"We have to expose him!"
Hermione closed the book in her hands, her gaze resolute.
"Polyjuice Potion."
"It's the only way. We need to turn into Slytherin students, sneak into their Common Room, and hear Malfoy admit it himself!"
.....
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