Love at First Sight (Harry Potter)

The Heir of Slytherin

|HARRY POTTER'S P.O.V|

I was standing at the end of a very long, dim chamber. The little light there was came in an overwhelming green, reminding me of the Slytherin Common Room's decor. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the emerald gloom. I stood there still, listening carefully through the silence, but was only able to hear the pounding of my own heart.

I paused for a moment and pushed back my shoulders. Expecting to see a basilisk around the next corner, I gave a self-assuring nod to myself and then began to walk forward. Every footstep echoed against the shadowy walls. I kept my eyes narrowed, ready to slam them shut at the slightest sign of movement. I had to focus very hard on keeping my confidence, while I was sure that one of the stone snakes was looking at me.

Then, as I approached the very last pair of pillars, a large statue loomed into view against the back wall. It was a giant face, high above me: ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And there, between the feet, laid a small figure with a halo of flaming red hair.

"Ria," I breathed out. Every bit of confidence escaped my lungs with that breath, and my blood ran very cold. I simply stood for a moment, unable to move as I stared at her. I couldn't see her face, and I almost didn't want to because the image I had of her in my head was bright and happy. I was more afraid than I had been the entire night, and I suddenly felt unworthy of my Gryffindor robes. "Don't be dead, please — please, Ria — no —"

In a moment, I was by her side on my knees. I leaned down and lifted her into my arms onto my lap. Her skin was paler than I had ever seen it before, her arms completely limp. I felt my wand fall out of my hand, and I heard it clatter onto the stone floor but I paid it no mind. Her hair still covering her face; I gently brushed it away, exposing her closed eyes and purple lips. I moved my arm slightly, struggling to slip my cloak over my shoulders without shaking her. I managed to drape the robes onto her, assured that she was certainly cold because, well, Alexandria was simply always cold.

"Ria, please," I swallowed heavily, staring at her eyelids as though expecting for them to reveal that crystal blue. "Please, wake up."

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

I jumped, accidentally knocking the sleeping girl out of my lap and back onto the floor. I muttered a small, "Shite" and then leaned over to fix her a little so at least she wasn't lying on her face. When I looked to the side, I saw a tall, black-haired boy leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, but there was no mistaking him.

"Tom — Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded. There was a faraway look in his dark, beady eyes as he calmly stared back at me.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" I said carefully. "She's not — not —?"

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

Tom Riddle had gone to Hogwarts about fifty years prior and yet here he was, misty light surrounding him, not a day over sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" I said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle, and his lips turned up in a cocky smile. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."