Bella and the Chamber (Book Two)

Chapter Forty-Eight

"You see," he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak when I had become the most greatest sorcerer in the world!"

My brain seemed to have jammed. I stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder my own parents, and so many others...At last, I forced myself to speak.

"You're not," I said, my quiet voice full of hatred. 

"Not what?" Riddle snapped.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," I told him, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you, and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days."

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" I retorted. I was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true.

Riddle opened his mouth but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on my scalp and made my heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that I felt it vibrating inside my own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.  A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at me. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at my feet, then landed heavily on my shoulder. As it folded its great wings, I looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and beady black eyes.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to my cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix..." Riddle said, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes?" I breathed and felt the bird's golden claws squeeze my shoulder gently.

"And that - " Riddle said, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat."

So it was. Patched, frayed and dirty, that Hat lay motionless at my feet. Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once.

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

I didn't answer. I might not see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but I was no longer alone, and I waited with mounting courage for Riddle to stop laughing.

"To business, Harry," Riddle said, still smiling broadly. "Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How do you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive"

I was thinking fast, weighing my chances. Riddle had the wand. I, Harry, had Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, neither of which would be much good in a duel. It look bad all right. But the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Bella and Ginny...and in the meantime, I noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid. If it had to be a fight between me and Riddle, better sooner than later.