Tears of a Basilisk

Journal entry the sixth


I am going to make a prediction. I am guessing that the clues I dropped regarding my bloodline sent whomever the reader is off on a research hunt, trying to figure out who I was long ago. Let me clue you in on something, my dear reader . I would bet my vaults that you didn't find anything in your research except for a couple one-line descriptions. Hogwarts' library has been pruned over the years to remove anything about creatures and events that bore a taint of dark magic, often removing the only alternate accounts of many wizarding events. I will therefore predict, if I decide to send this to Severus, that you stormed out in disgust, robes billowing, and checked out several other more esoteric sources. If you did, you likely found out a bit more, but not nearly enough to satiate you. How would I know this? I did the exact same thing once, when I got bored. And yes, I did drop the clues to work readers into a frenzy. Thinking about it makes me laugh. If I send this to anyone else but Sev, likely you will now run to him for help in your search after reading this entry. Humans are predictable enough creatures.


Before I get to the second challenge, there is something I feel I need to get out in the open. During the challenges, I never slacked off of my vigil over the faux-Moody. When I smelled a familiar rat on him one day, my interest was definitely piqued. I asked Sylvain to keep an eye on him in raven form, knowing that Moody would recognize a white owl, and I figured that a raven wouldn't be too conspicuous. What I discovered made me feel like a kid on Christmas, well, a normal kid at any rate. They were trying to find a way to bring back good ole Voldie, who was trapped in a horribly twisted body. At the time, there wasn't a clear cut plan other than to get ahold of me, probably to use me as a hostage to get some dreary artifact or such. Well, it was easy enough to provide them with the answer they were seeking. Almost too easy, in fact.


Yes, I wanted Tom to be restored to a proper body, with his rightful powers. I had been working on that problem since second year, when I learned about how horribly twisted his life had been and how he had ultimately been manipulated the same way the Hogwarts professors have. My reason for this desire was, and is, very simple. I wanted to free Tom, help him in what way I can now so that later I can free him from his internal prison. The monster known as Lord Voldemort is not really Tom Riddle. Tom was, and hopefully still is, a basically decent man with a selfless streak and voracious appetite for knowledge. Much like myself, in either life, as a matter of fact. Voldemort was created by the real villain of this drama, and is little more than a puppet, acting by another's rules and desires with no free will or concept of self whatsoever. He was supposed to die completely that fateful Halloween, but thanks to an absence of information about our bloodline, the real monster didn't expect one of our magical blood gifts to kick in. The gift I refer to is one that I'm not sure if I possess myself, since the only way to figure it out is death, and it is the ability to spirit-walk.


What is spirit-walking, you may wonder? Don't bother researching. You won't find it. In the case of a violent, surprising, or heavily magical death, one with that gift will reflexively split body and soul at the exact moment of death. The body will fall, but the sentient soul would be able to exist, in one way or another, until they find a way to continue with whatever they were doing in life. This may or may not require the taking of another physical body, of which there are several methods. It doesn't sound fun, but I can see where it would come in handy. How do I know this, one might wonder. Well, among my old possessions I found something that I created long ago, a self-updating family tree of sorts. Unlike most trees, mine doesn't just list names and birth/death dates, but rather how they died, in addition to what blood gifts if any they manifested in life. By now it is absolutely huge and fills one entire wall of the chamber, working on a second. Most of the lines are nonhuman, but there are a couple wizards who would probably be surprised that their names appear on my wall.


Before the protest that there was no such thing in the Chamber, since I'm sure that Tom will lead a party down there at some point, ask him to smear a bit of his blood on the wall that bears the onyx ouroborous carving. Oh, and everyone should step back about six feet when he does that. Well, that tips my hand as to my identity, but I was getting tired of dancing around it anyway. In this body I may be known, erroneously, as Harry Potter, and I may have his memories, but in every other way that matters I am truly the ultimate, and original, Slytherin.


After finding out what the faux-Moody and the rat were up to, it was easy enough to give them, through indirect means of course, the ritual which ultimately gave Tom his body back. That done, all I had to do was sit back and play along with the masses. I personally thought it was in rather bad taste to bring out the mermaid challenge. That particular event is a favourite of the Tournament, and it is probably the most devastating. I did in fact use gillyweed to survive that task, although I had to wait for someone else to be coerced to suggest it. Sometimes all the tangles of the games I'm involved in give me a headache.


Once that was accomplished, it was easy enough to get through the challenge as predicted. There was something that I didn't expect, however, and that was Fleur dropping out entirely. The reason that this challenge is the most devastating of all is that, if the challengers fail to retrieve their loved ones in any way, the loved ones are indeed brought out of their magical coma. The catch is that this happens at the bottom of the lake, with the ties still attached. In short, it is a rather horrible way to die, and the challenger has to live with the fact that their failure killed someone that they loved. They of course failed to tell the current challengers this, otherwise I'm sure Fleur would have tried harder, but I knew that the rules of the tournament hadn't changed at all since they were first written. Her little sister was going to die at the bottom of a lake with no chance of survival. I have been called a lot of things, in both lives, but never, NEVER would I let an innocent die if I could do anything about it. Hell, that's my whole motivation at the moment, and likely the only reason I yet live. I did not hesitate to bring up the girl, although I had to wrestle with myself regarding Weasley. I was severely tempted to leave him, and he was far from innocent at the time, but that would have raised more questions that I didn't want to deal with. So up I went, two in tow, and the crowd shifts from self-absorbed brat to selfless saviour in less than a heartbeat. Rather pathetic, really. I almost pity those with such weak minds that they believe anything they're told. Almost.


Ah, the sun is rising, even down here I can sense the changes it brings to the world. I think I'll show up at breakfast today, just for a good scare. It's the small things, sometimes, that keep us going from day to day.


Right now I am eternally grateful that I restocked my firewhiskey. It took a few moments to compose myself long enough to grip the quill without shredding the parchment like a first year. I really didn't expect him to confirm my suspicions. To think that we had one of the Founders walking around, in full possession of his mind and memories, and no one caught on. I can only imagine what Tom will think of this entry, I must show him. Since Harry fully restored him in every way as part of his last act, he's been at something of a loss. This might help him, after first pushing him into a nervous breakdown. I can't imagine the share of grief and guilt that he carries around with him still. My own burdens me to the point where sometimes it becomes difficult to breathe, and his load is far heavier than mine, whether he was in fact ultimately responsible or not. I confess that helping him overcome some of his guilt is not my sole motivation in the matter. I can't help but be intrigued with the possibilities, and possibly the answers, that the tree can provide.


It hadn't occurred to me that the challenges of that Tournament were deadly, after all they were only students. We all assumed, I suppose, that there were safeguards to prevent against death, at least. Injuries are unavoidable, and can help teach lessons, but this insight chills me to the core. It's one thing to know that you were working for a monster, it's entirely another to realize that he was willing to let a bunch of innocent students die just to play some sick, twisted control game. It seems, without saying, that everything that was ever understood about Salazar Slytherin is not to be trusted. The founder as we grew up knowing him would have left the child at the bottom of the lake to save himself. How wrong the wizarding world has been. There is something that still bothers me, even after this revelation. Throughout the journal so far, he keeps talking about setting things right, as they should be, yet as it stands now the Slytherin name is still tarnished, although not as bad as it was with Tom's rightful return. I don't think I can take much more tonight, so perhaps it is time to seek out our esteemed DADA professor and follow the eerily accurate predictions and advice of his unexpectedly noble ancestor.