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In April 1939, during Tom's second semester in his first year, the weather started to warm up.
An old and lonely Basilisk awoke in the darkness, dull and lifeless.
Its sleep had been getting longer and longer.
It even hoped that one day it wouldn't wake up again.
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But life is cruel. Basilisk's master engraved multiple magical symbols inside it, keeping it alive without needing food or drink.
It had no interest in the rats running through the kitchen pipes.
However, as they walked by, the rats would lift their heads, catch it's eyes and therefore drop dead in large numbers.
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Basilisk felt many years had passed, yet the master never returned.
Did its master die, just like the rats?
He had promised to return, but no one came, except for the rats.
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Death is truly detestable.
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Not until the 18th century, wizards didn't have toilets as Muggles did.
So Tom speculated that when Hogwarts was founded, there were no plumbing systems installed inside the walls.
"Master..."
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The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets definitely wasn't in the second-floor girls' bathroom.
"Master..."
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Tom also knew that his ancestors never imagined that their descendants would be harassed by a snake during classes, sleep, and even while studying.
"Master..."
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Who the bloody hell built a girls' bathroom in front of the entrance to the Chamber of Secret!
They connected the plumbing system right to the chamber!
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Parseltongue wasn't just about speaking with words. Thoughts could be conveyed even further than sound.
In the silence of the library, pretending to patiently read the school history, Tom couldn't bear the disturbance.
"Master... master..." It was a mournful voice.
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Tom closed the book and irritably pinched the bridge of his nose.
He had been trying to ignore it for a week. He had no idea how it had managed to find him.
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Tom walked into an empty classroom and locked the door behind him.
"What do you want?" he said to the wall.
If there was any other person in the room, all they would see was Tom hissing at the wall.
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"I knew you'd come back!" Basilisk exclaimed ecstatically. "Master! I recognize your scent!"
Tom thought to himself, "Scent?"
Even though there's such a thick wall between them?
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"I'm not your master, you're free now. Go wherever you want, leave Hogwarts," Tom said heartlessly.
There was a moment of silence from Basilisk, and Tom sensed that it hadn't left.
Basilisk then said, "Don't you remember me?"
Tom replied, "Your master is dead, and I'm probably his descendant. Now go."
Basilisk asked, "How did he die?"
Tom answered, "I don't know. They say he disappeared shortly after leaving Hogwarts."
Basilisk murmured, "Is that so..."
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Tom waited for a while and then said, "Anyway, don't show up in front of me again."
Basilisk said in a dejected tone, "Can't I even talk to you?"
Tom angrily retorted, "Why don't you leave? Go to the Forbidden Forest at night and be free!"
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Basilisk replied, "My master will come back for me."
Tom said, "He's dead. It's 1939 now, and he can't possibly be alive."
Unless there's something stronger than the Philosopher's Stone...
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Basilisk retorted, "My master won't die. He has discovered the secret to immortality."
Tom asked curiously, "How?"
Basilisk said, "Come to the Chamber, and I'll show you."
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Tom frowned and said, "Just leave. Your master is definitely dead."
Basilisk roared, "You're lying!"
Tom didn't respond any further.
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Tom felt that the Basilisk was always lurking within the walls, even when it remained silent.
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He had a faint understanding of what that "scent" was now.
It was an "instinct" within his bloodline.
Slytherin must have used his blood to cast a highly intricate curse on the snake.
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"Let's make a deal. What would it take for you to leave Hogwarts?"
Tom couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt for the Basilisk every time he flushed the toilet.
Basilisk said, "Find my master."
Tom replied, "I can't do that. No one can find him. I'm just an ordinary student."
And thought to himself, "Also, leaving here would leave me nowhere to go."
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Although Dumbledore told him to make more friends, Tom's roommate forced him to move out.
Despite not leaving anything in the room, Tom carried all his belongings with him in a magical space-saving bag.
But every time he returned to the dormitory, there would be itching powder or snack crumbs on his bed or curtains.
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Whenever Tom used the bathroom, there would be intentionally squeezed soap bubbles on the floor or dirty footprints.
And just when Tom was halfway through taking a shower, his roommates would insist on knocking on the door, claiming they were in urgent need.
...
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These daily trivial matters accumulated over time.
They even went to Professor Slughorn, crying and falsely accusing Tom of having poor living habits, disturbing their peace.
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Tom, who had a strong will, didn't lose his temper.
He ignored them, neither refuting their accusations nor paying attention to his roommates.
He had already privately pleaded pitifully to Professor Slughorn, asking if he could transfer to a different house for his roommates didn't welcome him at all.
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Under such hints, Professor Slughorn was not oblivious.
He was an observant teacher, dealing with a "silent" orphan and a group of "lively and outgoing" healthy boys.
It was quite obvious whom the professor would believe.
The biggest lesson Tom learned in the orphanage was how to properly portray himself as weak and helpless to those in power.
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"Tom will live on his own." Professor Slughorn specially allocated a guest suite for him alone.
He also announced to everyone, "As long as Tom ranks first in every semester, he can keep this room. In this school, in this house, we cultivate only the best wizards, not the best liars."
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From then on, Professor Slughorn became Tom's favourite teacher in his heart.
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Basilisk compromised, saying, "If you help me fulfill the mission my master gave me, I will leave."
Tom asked, "What mission?"
Basilisk replied, "To drive out the mongrels."
Tom shrugged, "I am a mongrel myself, and now the entire wizarding world is filled with mongrels."
Basilisk fell silent.
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Tom continued to persuade, "You still have plenty of good times ahead. Your master is just a jerk who abandoned you without a word."
Basilisk fiercely said, "When I am out, I'll bite you to death!"
Tom countered, "Oh, can't you come out by yourself?"
Again, Basilisk remained silent.
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Tom said, "Face reality. Your master isn't coming back."
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Tom hardened himself and became self-reliant, and he still found pleasure and enjoyment.
He didn't need "friends."
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With a comfortable bed, able to summon delicious food at will, a safe room, interesting study subjects, and teachers who appreciated him... why would he need "friends"?
To let "friends" come and remind him that he was just an unwanted child, with no parents, destined to return to an orphanage during summer vacation?
To let "friends" know that he was just some pretender or thief, not a great member of a "hidden noble family" seeking an ordinary poor experience for growth?
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He never envied those generation-rich spoiled brats who lounged on the grass, laughing and wasting their lives all day.
Instead, he silently cursed those who didn't have to work hard because they could rely on their parents after graduation to go broke someday.
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His ambition was to find a way to swindle them out of their money after graduation.
He wanted to make them experience what he had once experienced—wandering into the streets, begging for work, and living in a place where they couldn't find peace, constantly at the mercy of others' whims.
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Basilisk unable to accept reality, continued to berate Tom.
It brought him back to the present by saying, "You! You're a pathetic scum. Master didn't have worthless descendants like you! Get out of Slytherin! Get out of Hogwarts! Get--"
But Tom, devoid of a conscience, burst into laughter.
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For the remaining time in his first year, Basilisk didn't appear to him again.
Tom didn't sense any movement behind the walls till the day he left for summer vacation.
Dumbledore watched Tom, who seemed reluctant to leave the castle, and asked, "What's the matter?"
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Tom glanced at the busy crowds around the Hogwarts train station, lifted his foot, and whispered in Dumbledore's ear,
"There's a Basilisk in the plumbing. It's still waiting for its master. I think it's been driven mad by me, a mongrel worthless descendant."
Dumbledore bent down and chuckled softly, "So, it was Basilisk, huh?"
Tom nodded, hastily saying, "Yes, during the summer break when the school is empty, Let's put some poison in the pipes and send it on its way."
Dumbledore furrowed his brow and said, "Don't you think that's cruel?"
Tom became serious and explained, "It said that unless I help it fulfill its 'mission,' it won't go anywhere. It bothered me every day, so I had no choice but to drive it away."
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Dumbledore sighed, "Let me think about it. I know someone who might be interested in it."
Tom, indifferent, changed the subject, "Can't I stay at the school during the summer? Or is it not allowed?"
Dumbledore smiled and said, "I will visit you and report your progress to the head of your orphanage."
Tom stopped pretending and said directly, "You need to strengthen her curse? Can you teach me? I can do it for you."
Dumbledore patted his shoulder kindly and said, "Summer vacation is for having fun and making friends."
Tom felt displeased in his heart.
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On the return train journey, he wore a sour expression, feeling that Hogwarts was his true home.
As he watched the landscape receding outside the window, he thought to himself,
"Perhaps, in the future, instead of swindling money after graduation, staying at the school and becoming a teacher wouldn't be such a bad idea."
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"Sorry, I cannot grant your request,"
Professor McGonagall said to Ginny in her office, who had come to visit in the morning.
It was the weekend, teachers didn't have classes, yet Professor McGonagall was still sorting through administrative tasks.
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"Hogwarts treats all students equally.
The matters between your family members, as your Head of House and Deputy Headmistress, I cannot add my personal opinions or provide any assurances to your parents."
"But, Professor... you see, my parents, they trust Percy," Ginny said, hoping that Professor McGonagall would write a letter to her parents stating how well she was adapting to school life, and so on.
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Professor McGonagall said, "But is that the truth, Miss Weasley? I haven't seen you put much effort into fitting in with your classmates. The focus of school education, apart from academics, is learning to live and cooperate in a community, preparing you to smoothly enter the wizarding world."
Ginny's heart sank to her stomach.
She wanted to say that it wasn't her fault for not having good social connections. But then, whose fault was it? There is no one besides herself.
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"I..."
Even if it wasn't for Tom, I wouldn't be trying to please Stephanie and her clique, or be friends with them.
"I just... I just want to stay at school and attend classes. I don't want to go home," Ginny said, her eyes turning red as she clenched her fists.
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Professor McGonagall could only sympathetically and objectively say, "I believe you're a talented and hardworking witch, but there's not just one path to growth. Only your parents can make the best choices for you. Goodbye, Miss Weasley."
She raised her glasses with a serious and indifferent expression. The door of the office opened behind Ginny.
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In the corridor, Ginny thought to herself,
"The professors won't help, so I'll have to write a letter to my parents on my own. But considering that my parents might also have a high chance to directly approach Dumbledore, whom they always have a good relationship with..."
She happened to pass by the phoenix statue in front of the Headmaster's office and hesitated, looking up at it in despair.
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"Is there something I can help you with, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore suddenly appeared.
Ginny turned around and first saw a mass of white beard, then looked up to see the golden-rimmed glasses and the bright blue eyes.
"Professor... Professor Dumbledore," Ginny said, having only seen him from a distance during dinner at Hogwarts, she is so nervous.
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"Feeling lonely, aren't you, Miss Weasley?" Even Dumbledore's wrinkles were filled with wisdom.
"Professor, I..." Ginny was gathering her courage.
"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Dumbledore extended his hand to invite her. "I'm preparing to visit Eugene Lalleta at Ilvermorny," the American wizarding school.
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"Don't I need to prepare for any customs declaration or anything?" Although it was quite sudden, Ginny knew that if she hesitated, it would only make her look guilty in conscience.
Dumbledore smiled and said, "As the Headmaster, I still have some privileges. You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Ginny quickly nodded, with a beating heart.
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At noon,
Ginny returned to the dormitory and eagerly opened her diary.
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Ginny: Professor Dumbledore said he would talk to my parents, no need to worry!
Tom: Professor Dumbledore?
Ginny: He took me to the United States, and we talked to Eugene.
Tom didn't interrupt, curious about how Dumbledore was winning people's hearts this time.
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Ginny cheerfully wrote:
Eugene said he was sorry. It was his classmates who pressured him.
He felt that if he didn't act, he would be ridiculed at the school.
His family wanted to do business in the UK, so he didn't dare to admit his fault there.
He voluntarily requested to drop out, which made his father very angry.
Now he can't go back to the UK, and his younger brother is better at pleasing their father than he does.
He just wants to stay in the US and asked us not to pursue this matter anymore.
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Tom: Congratulations. A perfect ending, isn't it?
Ginny: Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of this century!
Ginny wanted to celebrate their victory with Tom a little more, but the door to the room suddenly opened.
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Stephanie and Daisy, who were initially laughing, stopped when they saw her.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'd like to use the bathroom first. I assume you don't mind?"
Daisy couldn't help but sneer, "I do mind. I think you and that second-year Hermione Granger would be better off sharing a room."
Stephanie gloated, "I just mentioned it to the seniors, and Granger also prefers a quieter environment."
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There were also three Gryffindor second-year girls, and one dormitory could accommodate up to five people.
If Ginny and Granger shared one room, the other four could be in another room, which seemed like a good solution.
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They promptly switched rooms without notifying the teachers.
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Sharing a room by year was just a customary practice, but publicizing this matter could lead to controversy.
They didn't want people to discuss who drove whom away or whether living together was meant for students to "learn" group living...
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Optimistic Hermione said to her, "I hope to have more time in the dormitory to study and read. You don't mind, do you?"
Ginny smiled, "That works for me! Going to the library every day for revision is exhausting!"
Moreover, the room was much more spacious now, and they could practice some more spells in the room as they wished.
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It all turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
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In the evening, Hermione went ahead to the auditorium for dinner.
Ginny, on the other hand, finished arranging her final personal belongings and opened her diary.
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Ginny: Tom, I changed rooms!
Tom: Wow, it is a sole suite?
Ginny: No, I'm with Hermione. She's a friend of my brother, a year older than me.
Tom: Ron's friend, right?
Ginny: Yeah! She's incredibly smart, even though she comes from a Muggle family.
Tom: Congratulations, truly.
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Tom sighed inwardly, "Perhaps Dumbledore is getting close to discovering me. My lies can only deceive a lonely little girl."
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Ginny: Tonight, Ricky invited me to the Forbidden Forest to release a Billywig.
Tom's alarm bells went off: Where did that Billywig come from?
Ginny: He said it was sent to him by his pen pal from Australia. He wants to see it fly and glow at night with his own eyes.
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Billywigs are a type of insect native to Australia. They have a blue body, resembling chubby bees, with a stinger at the end.
Spiralling wings grow from their heads, and when they fly, they emit blue fluorescent light, like miniature glowing helicopters.
Most of them have a gentle temperament, but if they bite you, you'll feel dizzy and float in the air.
If bitten multiple times, the victim may even float for several days.
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Feeling fortunate about her day, Ginny resolved several worries at once. So she rashly agreed to Ricky's invitation delivered by an owl.
Tom: Are you sure that Billywig can adapt to Hogwarts' weather?
Ginny: I don't know, that's what he said.
Tom: It's best not to go. The Forbidden Forest is dangerous.
Ginny: Ron went there last year, and he bragged about it at home for a long time.
Tom had no choice but to write: Stay safe.
Ginny: I will.
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She tucked the diary into her robes.
She wasn't foolish. Of course, she would bring Tom along for protection.
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After finishing their dinner, Ginny and Hufflepuff's Ricky exchanged glances from a few tables away.
They left the Great Hall one after the other, crawling out of an inconspicuous low window they had discovered during Herbology class.
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Ginny: "Did you bring it?" They met behind the greenhouses.
Ricky took out a glass jar from his robe's pocket. "Here."
Ginny summoned Lumos, illuminating the jar.
The small insect crawled weakly at the bottom of the jar, pale and powerless.
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Ricky said, "There's no food or weather it likes here. But my pen pal said it was already close to dying, so he sent it to me to have a look."
Ginny suggested, "Let's release it here; it's dark enough. I don't want to go too far from the castle."
Ricky replied, "I hope it can fly to the forest and rest on a tree, at least to drink some dew before it dies."
His attitude implied that whether Ginny came or not, he would still go.
Ginny softened and said, "Then let's go quickly."
They extinguished the light on their wands, donned their hoods, and made their way toward the Forbidden Forest.
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At the edge of the forest, Ginny asked, "Shall we?"
The moonlight tonight was clear, allowing them to see the path on the ground, but it was too dark to see anything inside the forest, here was her limit.
Ricky replied, "Okay." He looked at the towering trees that seemed to reach the sky and their roots were three times taller than him. Truth be told, he was a little afraid too.
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Ricky reached out and opened the jar. The little insect remained still, not flying.
"Hurry up!" Ricky tapped the side of the jar.
Their dream scenario was like releasing a lantern, watching the spiralling blue fluorescence ascend slowly.
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Ginny suggested, "Maybe you should pour it out first. The bottle's opening is too narrow for it to take off."
Ricky poured it out into the palm of his hand.
Ginny couldn't see clearly. "Is it dead?"
The insect seemed still.
Ricky said, "I felt it move. Wait a little longer."
Ginny leaned closer, intending to blow a little on it.
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Suddenly, the insect jumped onto Ginny's face.
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"Ah!" Ricky instinctively slapped Ginny, trying to help her get rid of it.
Then Ginny was slowly floating in mid-air. The insect's body and venom were smeared on her face.
"Help!" Ginny kept rubbing her face with both hands, kicking frantically.
In her floating state, she accidentally kicked Ricky's nose.
"Ouch!" Ricky missed his last chance to grab her robes.
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"Wait, I'll call a professor, stay!"
Ricky hadn't learned much magic in just a few days, so he couldn't think of any spells. He ran as fast as he could toward Hagrid's hut.
Bang! Bang! Bang! "Professor!" He forgot what to call Hagrid, but since he was an adult, he addressed him as "Professor."
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Hagrid opened the door. "What's the matter?"
Ricky urgently pointed towards the Forbidden Forest. "That... Ginny... floating... I... Ginny!"
Hagrid quickly took Fang and went to search for her.
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"Ginny!" Hagrid shouted, hoping for a response.
He remembered this was Ron's sister's name. Harry and the others mentioned her last year.
He called out to Ricky, "Go back to the castle and find Dumbledore, quickly!"
Ricky immediately turned around and ran back.
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Hagrid called out again, "Ginny!"
Then he stepped on something soft.
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It was Ginny, her eyes tightly shut, after the fall from the sky.
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Second year,
Tom was invited to the "Slug Club," and Professor Slughorn enthusiastically introduced him to famous people.
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Tom was afraid that if he didn't impress the Headmaster, he would lose his single suite.
So, he accepted every invitation and put on a diligent and humble facade, pretending to be a studious and ambitious student.
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Third year.
After mingling in the aristocratic circle for a long time, he learned to imitate every subtle behaviour and mannerism.
Even new Slytherins first-years referred to him as their senior undoubtedly.
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Fourth-year.
Tom's skill in flattery and socializing has reached its peak.
No student dares to question his background anymore; instead, they envy the external network he has built.
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Fifth year.
He officially became the center of the "Slug Club" and successfully became the Slytherins prefect.
However, at this time, Dumbledore approached him and said, "We need to start handling the issue of Basilisk."
Tom's smooth and effortless school life came to an end.
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"Do we really need to deal with it? It hasn't come looking for me again," Tom said to Dumbledore at late night in the second-floor girls' bathroom.
Dumbledore replied, "One day, it will grow thick enough to block the pipes, and then it will truly be too late."
Treating animal cruelty is wrong, no matter how frightening the creature may be.
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Since the castle was built with magic, no matter how it is renovated, there will always be small snake-like decorations at the entrances.
They successfully found one on a certain faucet.
Dumbledore continued, "Newt Scamander, the author of 'Fantastic Beasts,' is my student. He has finally constructed a place to house it. All you need to do is lure the Basilisk into this sack and bring it out."
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Dumbledore handed Tom a magical space-saving sack, and Tom gave him a disdainful look.
"Snakes are not that foolish. I can sense that it's at least forty feet long. How could it willingly crawl inside?" Tom insisted that Dumbledore should accompany him.
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"It has venomous fangs! Deadly eyes! It has threatened to bite me to death before!" Tom protested.
He only wanted to open the door for someone else, be the translator, and let others handle it.
Dumbledore tempted him, "In the Chamber of Secrets, there should be many more Slytherin treasures. Are you sure you don't want to take some of them, Tom? With your charm, no creature can resist you."
Two years ago, Dumbledore switched to teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, leaving Transfiguration to the new professor, McGonagall.
He knew well of Tom's mouth, sweeter than honey, even more powerful than his mastery of dark magic that he practiced privately.
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Tom questioned, "Is that why you didn't tell the Headmaster? Do you want Slytherin's artifacts too? To see if there's a way to defeat Grindelwald?"
Dumbledore squinted at him and asked, "Did you hear that from the club?"
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Their relationship with each other was not written down on paper; everything was just hearsay.
They never clearly explained to anyone what their relationship was because even they themselves were not sure.
They were even afraid to ask the question aloud: What exactly could 'they' be considered as?
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Tom interrupted Dumbledore's recollection and continued, "Some people say that you have been manipulating that Newt you mentioned earlier to hinder Grindelwald all the time. Professor, are you... alright?"
He had gathered more than just a snippet of information. He was well-versed in knowing all the gossip about Dumbledore's life.
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Dumbledore admitted, "I do indeed want to study the ancient scrolls and artifacts of Slytherin firsthand uninterruptedly.
I fear that Grindelwald's followers have already infiltrated Hogwarts.
I even worried that they might discover your true lineage and contact you.
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Tom, even so, would you be willing to help me?"
While Dumbledore sincerely sought his assistance, Tom hesitated.
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It had been over five years since Dumbledore found him.
Although their first impressions of each other were not favourable, they had always sensed something other than hatred.
He never intended for Dumbledore to die.
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Tom never really fulfilled Dumbledore's request to make true friends.
Dumbledore knew that, but he had gradually accepted it.
In the eyes of other students and teachers, they were as close as father and son, never having quarrelled, and often chatted privately.
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"If we succeed," Tom finally spoke, "I should at least receive a special contribution award."
Dumbledore sighed with relief and said, "Oh, my dear Tom."
Tom emphasized with annoyance, "But right now, I'm just going down to talk to it. I don't know what the outcome will be!"
Dumbledore gratefully smiled and said, "I will always remember your sacrifice for me."
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They opened the entrance together, peering into the dark and foul-smelling abyss.
Regret overwhelmed Tom as he pinched his nose and said, "If I die, I will come back as a ghost to accuse you."
Dumbledore comforted him while also holding his nose, "You won't die. Fawkes will secretly follow you."
Tom was surprised, "Your phoenix?"
Dumbledore replied, "He has already flown into the plumbing, lurking there. He recognizes your 'scent'."
Now Tom understood the magical creatures' "scent" sense, akin to how owls recognize the direction of the intended recipient of a letter.
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He took one more look at Dumbledore and a deep breath,
then jumped into the seemingly bottomless pit.
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