Twisted Fascination

I was in the library when I was approached by my brother, who looked quite a bit agitated. "Ye-"

"Why didn't you say anything?" The Gryffindor snapped.

"Concerning…?" I asked as I motioned for him to continue with his demand.

"Yesterday," he hissed angrily, "Everyone thinks I was threatening you-"

"The Slytherins don't," I said, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I said you didn't to them. I don't know why the rest of the school thinks you're so dangerous to me. You're just my little brother."

Harry huffed. "Well, maybe you should have told them yesterday."

"Harry," I said as I forced myself not to sigh, "I didn't get the chance to. You saw Flint drag me away before I could open my mouth."

"Yeah, well, Justin Finch-Fletchley has been avoiding me and running away when I'm in the same corridor as him," he said as if that actually meant something to me.

"Okay…" I said slowly.

"He thinks I'm the Heir of Slytherin!" Harry exclaimed loudly.

I shushed the boy quickly before whispering harshly, "Harry, we are in the library."

"Who cares?" He retorted like the child he truly was.

"I care," I stressed before sitting back in my chair. "Anyway, why do you care if people see you as the Heir of Slytherin? You aren't."

Harry pouted as he said, "I don't want to be accused of those awful things."

I almost rolled my eyes at him. "Then just stay with groups of people. They can't accuse you of being the Heir of Slytherin when you have an alibi that's verifiable by several witnesses."

He thought my words over before asking, "Well… What about you?"

I blinked slow enough to be considered stupid as I looked at him. "What?"

"You could be accused of being the Heir of Slytherin," he said as if such weren't obvious. "You're a parseltongue."

"Yes, but I haven't been petrifying cat and student alike," I said honestly.

"Well, I didn't either!" Harry yelled at me.

I motioned for him to quiet down, but the damage was done.

Madam Pince came around the corner, brandishing a feather duster at the two of us. "If you two can't be quiet, then you better leave."

"We're sorry," I apologized quickly, but Harry just huffed and stomped off. I shook my head at him before looking at Madame Pince pleadingly. "May I finish my essay?"

She narrowed her eyes at me behind her glasses before begrudgingly saying, "Then, you're out of here for the day."

"Of course," I agreed right away before turning back to my essay on Goblin Rebellions for History of Magic.

Harry, of course, nearly ruined that for me by yelling from a good five rows over, "I don't care what blood you've got!"

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose for a long moment. I then exhaled deeply before straightening up. I went back to my essay as Harry continued to stomp off through the library like the unrepentant child he was. I continued on flipping through my book when a scream loud enough to be heard in the library came from down several corridors.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAACK!" Peeves the Poltergeist screamed at the top of his lungs.

Immediately, several people ran from the library to see the scene of the crime.

I rolled my eyes before suddenly hearing a soft hissing from below my feet.

The large snake said, §I want to rip… I want to tear… I want to kill…§

I immediately ducked under the table and hissed, §What's your name?§

The snake ignored me. §Master, when will I get to kill again?§

I scowled as I narrowed my eyes on the floor. §Your Master isn't even a physical being, you foolish little snakeling.§

Apparently, that got the unnamed snake's attention. §Who dares-§ The snake cut itself off for a long moment before hissing softly, §Of course, Master. Forgive me.§

I pursed my lips before someone cleared their throat behind me. I snapped up, only to bang my head on the table with a loud yelp. I quickly got out from under the table and glared over my shoulder, only to see Zabini standing there with a raised brow.

"What were you doing under there?" He asked, only for me to produce my wand in my hand. He immediately accepted that as a legitimate answer and sat down next to me. "Your brother-"

"I realized," I interrupted as I pocketed my wand and picked up my quill again. "Peeves was loud enough to wake the dead."

Zabini snorted. "What favor do I owe you?"

"I'll tell you in due time," I assured him.

"Fine, but I want the information now," the boy said in a rather pushy fashion.

"Loyalty," I answered simply as I continued working on my essay. "My brother and I value loyalty over anything else."

"How so?" He pressed.

"My brother wants people to like him. He wants his friends to be loyal to him down to their very soul. That's what he views true friendship as, and he wants that and a loving family above all else," I explained, "I want people to be loyal to me, but I don't want to be betrayed at the same time. I'd rather rule with a few people I could trust over being stabbed in the back from some low-ranking follower. Of course, we're both loyal to ourselves. We want to believe in our abilities, and that's where we bleed together. Our abilities are similar when push comes to shove. I simply apply myself harder than Harry does when the day ends."

"You're good on a broomstick?" Zabini asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"I said similar, not exact," I retorted, "What I lack in flying abilities, I make up for in Potions, which Harry is abysmal at."

Zabini snorted. "To say the least."

I nodded once before turning my focus back to my essay.

"Who are you loyal to above all else?" Zabini asked.

I allowed myself a brief moment where I thought back to my first fascination. "Myself… I will get what I want in the end, even if I must sacrifice my life to Lord Death for it."

Zabini looked at me sharply for a long moment before smirking. He stood up and said, "Well, I suppose that you definitely aren't the Heir of Slytherin. At least they are loyal to the founder."

I barely held in a snort. "You act like you know who the Heir of Slytherin is."

"I don't," he admitted, "But I'm more than sure you do."

I chuckled before looking at the boy with red eyes. "Do me that favor and keep it a secret. I wouldn't want the Heir of Slytherin to get expelled this early."

Zabini pondered that for a moment before asking, "Is Hogwarts safe for Slytherins?"

"If it wasn't safe for us, I would have dealt with the Heir already," I admitted honestly, "I know that I, along with the other Slytherins, will be free of harm when push comes to shove."

Zabini nodded slowly before asking, "What would it cost for me to know who the Heir of Slytherin is?"

"That I cannot answer because it is a secret I cannot tell," I stated as I sat back in my seat. "Just know that I'm still treading lightly around the Heir, but I doubt you'll catch their eye."

Zabini clearly was left with more questions than answers, but he accepted that as his fate. He simply left me behind, moving forward to make his own conclusions for the time being.

I worked on my essay carefully, making a mental note to create a contingency plan in case Tom did turn against me and the other Slytherins.

Later on in the day, it was said that Harry had petrified both Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor.

Many students were eager to leave behind Hogwarts, if only to get away from the threat of the Heir.

I simply packed my trunk and got onto the Hogwarts Express when time came for break. I sat with my usual crowd and went over my timeline of Lockhart's books, it getting a bit more detailed after every once-over.

"Are you actually going to get Lockhart in trouble with the Aurors?" Davis questioned as she looked at me curiously.

"Maybe after the school year ends," I answered, "It depends on how irking he is."

"He irks me just breathing," Davis commented as she sat back in her seat while crossing her arms.

"I have a bit more patience than you, it seems," I mused.

She rolled her eyes before straightening up. "Considering your muggle relatives hate you, why are you going back with them for the holidays?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, but I didn't answer her question. Instead, I asked, "Is my life truly that fascinating to you?"

She flushed a bit before immediately denying, "Of course not."

"Good," I approved, "I have refocused my fascination, and you are not it."

The girl's brow furrowed immediately. "You lost interest in the Dark Lord?"

"If that wraith couldn't hold his own against my brother, I have serious doubts that I could stay intrigued by him," I said as honestly as I could.

"How brutal," Greengrass commented dryly before straightening up. "You know, you may already have a marriage alliance."

I paused just before I could focus back on the timeline I made. I then looked at Greengrass carefully. "You honestly believe my Light-loving parents would bother with a marriage alliance for their eldest?"

The blonde gave a dainty shrug. "Many pureblood families still do."

I pondered this before saying, "Well, I suppose it's something I could look into."

The girl my age nodded once.

Silence fell across the compartment, and I reemerged myself in my timeline.

The train ride was as long as usual, but eventually, the Hogwarts Express made it to Kings Cross Station.

I headed out with my trunk to the streets of London and carried my trunk around the side of the station onto a rather abandoned sidewalk. I then extended my wand out and waited a few seconds before a bus appeared with a crack.

This bus, the Knight Bus, was a triple-decker, purple AEC Regent III RT.

The door opened, and a young man that looked relatively young was looking down at his nails. He was nineteen at most, and he had large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples. He wore a purple uniform to go with the color of the Knight Bus. He had a fairly slovenly appearance and was somewhat more unkempt. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."

I smiled pleasantly at the man. "Hello, Shunpike. I'm hoping to get a ride to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Of course," he said as he finally stopped looking down at his nails. He stepped from the Knight Bus and grabbed my luggage, only to raise an eyebrow at how light it was. "You only pack a single outfit?"

I chuckled as I climbed onto the bus. "Feather Light Charm."

"That explains it," the man said with a nod to himself as he followed me onto the bus.

I glanced at the driver, who was an elderly gray-haired wizard with very thick glasses. I felt a bit nervous that the old man would wreck the bus with his abysmal vision, but I then decided that I could always sue if I was injured. I sat down on a nearby bed and watched Shunpike put my trunk next to my bed.

There were no seats on the bus. Instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. Overall, the interior was nothing like a bus, and it was evident that the bus wasn't even remotely related to a muggle bus save for outside appearance.

The driver slammed the pedal down, lurching the bus forward.

My trunk and bed slid across the floor as we began to drive through the streets, the other beds and trunks on the bus doing the same. Evidently, safety wasn't a priority for stranded witches and wizards.

"What's your name, there?" Shunpike asked as he sat down next to me.

"Call me Colton," I replied.

"No last name?" Shunpike asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Seth," I lied, not wanting to be associated with the Potter name and thus gain unwanted attention. "An odd last name, I know."

He waved me off immediately. "Nah, don't worry about it." He jerked his thumb toward the driver and said, "He's Ernie Prang."

I immediately felt my stomach sink at that information. "As in-"

Shunpike smirked. "Funny, ain't it?"

Oh, yes. His last name is slang about car wrecks. How hilarious, I thought sarcastically. Instead of saying that, I asked, "Tell me, do you offer beverages?"

"Hot chocolate ups the fee from eleven sickles to thirteen. For fifteen sickles, you can get a bottle of hot water and a toothbrush in any color you want," he said.

"You know, I'd rather stick with eleven sickles," I said as I sat back on my bed as it once again slid across the floor as the bus jerked.

He shrugged as if it were my loss.

The bus suddenly screeched to a stop, causing everything to slide to the front of the bus.

I barely held in a scowl as I readjusted myself.

A wizard paid the fee for the bus ride and got off at his desired location of Cokeworth. He was given his luggage by Shunpike before the bus took off at a high speed.

The next stop was Wiltshire, where an old witch got off with a mere handbag. The bus then picked up a young witch that seemed roughly the same age as Shunpike in a small town called Mould-on-the-Wold. Finally, the bus stopped in London, right in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

I was more than grateful as I got up and paid the eleven sickles to Shunpike, who accepted the money and offered to get my trunk. I waved him off, grabbing my own trunk, and heading off to the Leaky Cauldron.

Tom, the Landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, raised an eyebrow upon seeing me enter his pub so late. "It's quite late at night, lad."

"I know," I said nonchalantly as I approached. "Do you still have the room on hold for Colton Potter?"

"I do," he approved at once.

"Excellent," I approved as I handed over my pay, causing him to hand me a key for room 11 in reply. I picked up my trunk and headed out to my room. I locked my door as soon as I entered and put my trunk at the foot of my bed. I then got changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and fell asleep for the night.

The next morning, after taking a shower and eating breakfast, I headed out into Diagon Alley.

Gringotts was as large as always, and it only seemed to shine brighter in the snow that surrounded it.

I entered and headed over to the first open goblin at one of the counters. "My name is Colton Potter, and I wish to speak to Griphook."

"What about?" The goblin asked rudely.

"My finances," I said, "Amongst other things."

The goblin looked annoyed, but nevertheless called over his shoulder in the goblin's natural tongue of Gobbledygook. He then looked back at me and said, "It will be just a minute, Mr. Potter."

I merely nodded once as I stepped aside and waited for Griphook to appear, which he did while observing me with annoyance. I ignored that look as I requested, "May we speak in private?"

Griphook's annoyance intensified, but he nevertheless brought me back to a private room with a desk for him and him alone to sit at.

I sat before him before asking, "What must I pay to keep a conversation strictly between the two of us?"

Immediately, Griphook's eyebrow raised. "You can't expect me to keep a conversation strictly between us when no loyalty lies between us."

I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. "How much would I have to pay to keep a conversation from other witches and wizards?"

He then sat back and said, "That would depend on the topic."

I narrowed my eyes before sitting back myself. "Then, let's say that this is, in my personal opinion, a matter of Curse that you see in Egyptian tombs."

Griphook narrowed his eyes sharply. "Explain this supposed Curse."

"I find myself near a Dark object that is definitely Cursed," I admitted vaguely, causing the goblin to look quite frustrated. "I want a vow that this won't get out to the Ministry without my permission, or, Merlin forbid, the media."

"You want a vow that I won't tell certain people about this Dark, Cursed object?" He asked incredulously, "Even if that object would be better off known?"

"I owe a debt," I said honestly, "I'm not getting a certain person screwed over because you don't believe in clientele secrecy."

Griphook immediately scowled before straightening up. "Very well. Colton Seth Potter, I, Griphook, hereby make this vow to you - I will not tell the Ministry or any media personnel that you are coming to me with information regarding a Dark artifact that is likely Cursed without your expressed permission."

I nodded, satisfied when a glow briefly surrounded the goblin. "The Dark artifact I have questions on is an old diary that can think for itself and possess people."

Griphook looked shocked at that. "Are you sure-"

"Of course I am," I interrupted irritably, "I wrote in it."

"Tell me everything you know," the goblin demanded.

I did as ordered, telling him about the diary that had Tom stuck inside of it. I explained how my acquaintance had been getting possessed by Tom and even displayed knowledge and traits they otherwise didn't have without the influence of Tom. I then hesitated a bit before adding in that Tom was a Parseltongue that could influence whatever Salazar Slytherin left in the Chamber of Secrets.

Griphook took that all in before saying, "You owe quite a hefty fee for keeping this all a secret."

"I figured," I waved off dismissively, "Take it from my personal account."

The goblin rubbed his temples as if he had a severe migraine. "You have no idea what you encountered…"

"I do not," I approved, "I was hoping to get answers from you before dealing with that troublesome pest, Tom."

"From what you're describing, it's highly likely that you can simply set the artifact on fire and be done with it," Griphook said as he continued rubbing his head.

"Indeed," I confirmed, my eyes slowly narrowing at just how upset the goblin was getting.

"Your acquaintance is in trouble," Griphook said as he stared me directly in the eyes. "It's likely that they are not only being possessed, but rather taken over."

"That would explain why they've been pale ever since starting to write in Tom's diary," I said with a heavy sigh. "I know that the Dark Lord tried to take over Quirrell at times, but he was too weak then…" I trailed off as something came to mind. My lips twisted back as I realized aloud, "It's just like the Dark Lord's little possession trick. I wouldn't be surprised if some other Dark Lord knew about that beforehand and ended up stuck in a diary." I then paused before frowning. "No, that wouldn't make sense. What Dark Lord would willingly put themselves in a muggle diary, stuck waiting until some idiotic person comes along to write in it?"

"You would be surprised," Griphook said gravely, causing me to focus back on him. "Your acquaintance - do they know that you're here?"

"Indeed," I approved, "They also know that I'm going to have to take the fall if this gets released to the public. I don't need them getting in the way of my goals by sentencing themselves to Azkaban."

"You're so sure that they'll go to Azkaban?" The goblin pressed.

"The serpent that Salazar Slytherin left behind wants to kill," I admitted, "The only reason it isn't is because Tom has it under his thumb."

"Approximately, how large is the serpent?" He pressed.

I glanced up to the ceiling before looking back down at Griphook. "It'll take up an entire corridor of Hogwarts, which means that it is roughly ten times the size of this room."

Griphook looked like he regretted asking me the question. Nevertheless, he pressed forward. "Are there any other distinguishing features?"

"Beyond being a murderous snake just about a thousand years old, she also had acid-green scales," I said.

"Are you sure it was a female snake?" Griphook asked, causing me to nod once. "Have you ever heard of Basilisks?"

"Yes," I approved, "I figured that snake was one, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions."

"That Basilisk is in Hogwarts, correct?" Griphook questioned.

"Correct," I said.

"You say it's being controlled by the diary-"

"Technically, it's being controlled by my acquaintance, but said acquaintance is being possessed by Tom," I said, causing the goblin to hold back an irked comment.

Instead, the advisor to the Potter family said, "Does Tom have a last name?"

"Riddle," I answered, "Or at least that's the name imprinted on the muggle diary."

The goblin looked like he was holding back a grimace. "I would advise you to stay clear of the diary from now on."

"Because that Heir of Slytherin has a serious gross negligence toward everyone else, or because he could set his sights on me as a potential threat?" I questioned.

"Both," Griphook replied as if he truly knew the identity of Tom M. Riddle.

I sat back for a moment before nodding in acknowledgement. I then said, "Oh, yes. I was wondering if you goblins had records on arranged marriages."

My bank manager raised an eyebrow. "Why would you think we had those?"

"Am I wrong in my assumption?" I questioned.

The goblin eyed me carefully before admitting, "No."

"Excellent," I approved, "Might I ask if I have one of those?"

"I would have to look and get back to you," Griphook said as he folded his hands together.

I felt a bit annoyed, but quickly figured it was reasonable of him to not know personal information like that off the top of his head. "Very well. I would also like to check the various stocks while I'm here."

"I figured," the goblin said bluntly before straightening up. "Mr. Potter, I wish to know if you could send your acquaintance and the Dark artifact to Gringotts some time."

"I could…" I said honestly, "But it most likely won't happen until the end of the school year. Their family most likely wouldn't consent to them staying at the Leaky Cauldron with me for Easter Break."

The man raised an eyebrow before waving it off. He instead stood up and said, "Follow me."

I did as commanded, following after the goblin to check on my stocks. I decided to forgo changing anything before finally leaving Gringotts. I headed over to Flourish and Blotts, looking through various sections in the bookstore before eventually deciding that they didn't have what I needed. I returned to the Leaky Cauldron, where I spent most of my time reworking essays and going over my careful timeline.

The break couldn't end fast enough, and soon, students were heading back to Hogwarts on the train.

I was looking out of the window at one point, bored out of my mind. I hadn't gotten any new books, and I didn't feel like going over the same notes as always. Therefore, I merely watched the scenery go by.

"Potter," Greengrass called out, causing me to hum in acknowledgement. "I was talking with my father over the break."

"Your point?" I asked as I finally looked at the green-eyed girl.

"He believes that you're the Heir of Slytherin, but he won't tell me where he got that idea from," Greengrass divulged.

"Excellent," I said sarcastically, "I was looking forward to being sentenced to Azkaban."

The girl stared at me, clearly unamused. "My father isn't the type to get you thrown in Azkaban. Nott's father, maybe, but not mine."

"I don't care," I said honestly, "The point stands that someone has loose lips, and they should be dealt with accordingly."

Davis grimaced before saying slowly, "Malfoy told his father about the Heir of Slytherin being back."

"Of course he did," I said with a roll of my eyes. "He couldn't keep his mouth shut even if his life was being threatened."

"You won't do anything to Malfoy, will you?" Davis asked apprehensively.

I contemplated that question for a long moment before saying, "If his father wishes to cause me harm, then I shall see to it that he knows where he stands in my eyes."

The three other people in my compartment looked surprised by my answer.

"You mean to make him know his place?" Zabini echoed.

"Indeed," I confirmed with a nod.

"Where is that place?" He pressed eagerly.

"Where do you think, Zabini?" I asked with exasperation.

"You probably think that place is below you," he replied.

"He's not below me," I argued, "On the wrong side of the board, maybe, but not below."

"You see him as an opponent?" Davis caught on.

"If he sees me as one, I certainly won't shy away from it," I stated.

The three contemplated my words before deciding to finally let the topic go as the trolley witch came bearing her sweets.

I once again looked out of the window, having no interest in keeping conversations with them.

Eventually, we made it to Hogwarts and went back to our usual routines.

Rumor has it that, during the break, Granger was petrified. As it turned out, she wasn't, but she did have curtains around her bedside in the hospital wing.

I merely shrugged it off as my opponent in grades being taken out of commission. I was almost gleeful at the thought of surpassing her once and for all in Lockhart's class.

That, unfortunately, was put aside when, one day, Ginny Weasley skulked over to me while I was looking through various textbooks on the Hair-Raising Potion.

I raised an eyebrow at the girl, wondering why was approaching me of her own free will.

"You know, don't you?" She muttered as she hovered over me.

"Know what?" I inquired as I went back to my books.

"You know that I'm the Heir of Slytherin," she said.

I paused before looking at the girl in the eyes. "Oh, Tom M. Riddle. I was wondering when you'd come confront me."

The girl's eyes narrowed sharply at me, and she palmed the wand sticking out from her robe's pocket.

"Yes, I know your last name," I confirmed as I turned my head away. "It's not hard to piece together when it's imprinted into your diary."

"That doesn't matter," Riddle, who was temporarily possessing Ginny, snapped at me. "Weasley told me you were a Parseltongue."

"I am a Parseltongue," I corrected, "My abilities to speak to snakes didn't magically go away over break."

"You were the one who upset Bestla on the day that ghost interfered with the killing of Finch-Fletchley, were you not?" Riddle demanded to know.

"Oh, is that the basilisk's name?" I asked before chuckling. "How amusing that a giantess also known as Odin's mother shares the same name as the large serpent under the school."

"How do you know it's a basilisk?" Riddle pressed, a growl in Ginny's voice.

"I went to the goblins to confirm my suspicions about you and that snake," I freely admitted.

Riddle remained silent for a long moment before finally straightening up Ginny's body. "I see. Considering this girl isn't in Azkaban, I'm assuming that you haven't gone to the Ministry."

"You'd be correct," I confirmed.

"Why?" Riddle asked, confusion clear in his tone.

"I want to know more," I said honestly, "That must be some Dark magic you used, especially if it worried the goblins."

Riddle considered this for a moment before saying, "You are the older brother to the Boy-Who-Lived, yes?"

"I do not understand what one has to do with the other, but yes," I replied.

Riddle chuckled as he said, "Well, I may tell you that if you swear to not tell anyone else."

"I may be inclined to agree if you can beat me in a duel," I said with the same amusement as the Heir of Slytherin.

Immediately, Riddle understood that I wouldn't be giving him the upper hand by any stretch of the imagination. He pondered what to do for a single moment before saying, "I see you're a Slytherin."

"Your point being?" I asked as I looked at the Heir of Slytherin with a raised eyebrow.

Riddle forced Ginny to give a cruel smirk. "It doesn't matter. I'll continue to keep an eye on you."

"The feeling is mutual," I confirmed.

Ginny turned and began to walk away, only to pause nearby. She turned to look at me and that look told me that Riddle was still in control. "Your name - what is it?"

"Has she still not told you?" I asked as I smirked at the possessed girl.

Riddle scowled upon realizing that I didn't intend to answer him. He once more forced Ginny's body into action, skulking away from me in a manner that definitely didn't resemble the Gryffindor's normal attitude.

I internally snickered at his annoyance before going back to my work. I paid the incident no mind until the next day, when Ginny scurried over to me in the library while looking deathly pale. I immediately knew it was Ginny and that she had done something that she felt was incredibly stupid.

"I threw away the diary," she hissed worriedly at me as I once again sat in the library.

"Okay…" I said slowly, motioning for her to continue.

"I went back for it, but I can't find it," Ginny muttered as she wrung her hands together.

I sat back in my seat before asking, "Do you know who has it?"

She shook her head before whispering, "What if Tom tells people what I've done?"

I considered this for a moment before admitting, "I doubt he'll want to lose his power over you."

"But he-"

"Riddle is a manipulative Slytherin through and through," I said nonchalantly, "He won't cast you aside after he's put so much work into being able to possess you."

"But what if he starts to possess whoever has the diary now?" Ginny asked frantically.

"Well, I suppose you'll be free of both Riddle and any accusations sent your way," I mused as I sat back in my seat. Upon seeing her confusion, I explained, "You won't have Riddle always controlling you, and you won't be able to be accused of anything because Tom is going to possess someone else and continue on with his little Heir of Slytherin tactics."

"I don't want that to happen," Ginny whined, "He's an evil git, and that shouldn't be put on anyone."

"So you will sacrifice yourself in order to save someone else from the pain?" I inquired.

"I…" The girl looked incredibly conflicted before hanging her head. "I don't know."

"Just move carefully from now on," I lectured, "You may be a pureblood, but Riddle is nothing if not vindictive. If he feels you've wronged him, you'll be in trouble."

Ginny looked ready to burst into tears as she hurried away from me.

I watched her leave for a mere moment before going back to my homework. I figured I'd be fine considering it took Tom a month of writing before he could possess Ginny.

February rolled around after a while, and Granger returned to classes, eager to get herself caught up even though she had obviously been trying to do so in the hospital wing. There had been no more attacks thanks to the diary being in someone else's possession, and Madam Pomfrey had been pleased to report that the mandrakes were quickly leaving childhood.

Lockhart seemed to think he, himself, had made the attacks stop. He told us Slytherins one day before the beginning of his D.A.D.A. class. "I don't think there'll be any more trouble." He tapped his nose knowingly and winked. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now before I come down on him."

"That's amazing," I lied as I smiled at the neanderthal brightly.

"Isn't it?" Lockhart asked proudly as many others in the class subtly rolled their eyes. "You know, what this school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of the last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…" He tapped his nose again before finally starting his lecture, which was as lame as always. After class finally ended, Lockhart called me up to his desk.

I walked up, pretending to be a fan of his as always. "What may I help you with, sir?"

The man smiled brightly at me. "Well, Mr. Potter, I was wondering if you knew if any of the Slytherins participated in Valentine's Day."

I internally gagged at the thought of the overly lovey-dovey holiday. Instead of making that apparent, I explained, "Most Slytherins don't because of their parents strict behavior concerning relationships."

He hummed as he rubbed his chin. He then smirked at me, his eyes alight with a twinge of something I didn't recognize. "Do you know if anyone will write me a Valentine's Card?"

"I'm sure many of your fans will," I said as I continued to smile, "You're quite charming, after all."

He chuckled as if amused before waving it off. "Well, you'll have to wait to see just like everyone else what I'll do."

"I can't wait," I lied before being dismissed. I quickly collected my books before heading off to my next class. I nearly gagged about halfway there, not wanting to have to write the man a Valentines, but knowing he had expected such.

Snape raised an eyebrow at me as I barely made it to his class in time, but quickly dismissed it as unimportant.

Zabini, however, was eager to prod me for answers as we went over our old notes for the Wiggenweld potion. "What did he want?"

"A Valentines from me," I grumbled softly before shuddering in disgust.

"He - he said that?" The black boy asked in shock.

"He implied it," I corrected.

"You're not going to, are you?" Zabini muttered.

"I'll do what I have to in order to beat Granger," I said, and I meant it.

Zabini nodded slowly before dropping the topic.

On the morning of the fourteenth, Lockhart's very disgusting idea of a morale-booster became apparent at breakfast. The walls of the Great Hall were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers that bore sickly-sweet smells. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling.

I forced myself not to gag and merely sat down at the Slytherin table where several Slytherins sat, all of them looking thoroughly disgusted.

Lockhart was sitting in his usual spot at the professors' table, and he was wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations.

I merely served myself some toast, not eager to get sick at some point during the day because of all of that. I knew that I wasn't alone, especially considering the staff were all stone-faced.

McGonagall had a cheek muscle occasionally twitch, and Snape looked as though someone had force-fed him poison.

Lockhart soon waved around for silence, and he got it, too. "Happy Valentine's Day!" He shouted, "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards!"

I internally sighed, figuring that my idea to hand-deliver his card was stupid and that I should have simply sent it by owl like the other students had.

"Yes," Lockhart continued loudly, "I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!" He clapped his hands together, and through the doors of the entrance hall marched a dozen surely-looking dwarves. Lockhart, the soulless bastard, had forced these poor dwarves into wearing outfits like non-biblically accurate cupids, golden wing and harps included.

I felt pity for the dwarves, none of whom looked happy to be there.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart beamed, "They will be roving around the school today, delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter in the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion?! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Snape looked ready to maim Lockhart, who was as oblivious to the people in his surroundings as always. Meanwhile, Flitwick had buried his face in his hands, clearly mortified that Lockhart had just sicked a bunch of love-crazy students on him.

Nott turned to me and asked, "Did you disgrace this house by being one of the forty-six?"

"For once in my life, I am proud to say no," I replied honestly, "I may have gotten extra points on the next exam, but that thought didn't occur to me until just now."

"Do you think he'll actually give extra points?" Parkinson questioned.

I held back a snort. "A worthy exchange, especially considering my brain cells died just thinking about writing him a valentine."

Malfoy gave a bark of laughter as my newspaper finally arrived.

I took it and headed off, no longer eager to see that disgusting color of pink.

All day long, the dwarves kept barging into various classes in order to deliver their valentines. They constantly annoyed the professors, who all looked ready to shank Lockhart once they got their opportunity.

Late in the day, as we first-year Slytherins were headed to Transfigurations, a commotion in the hallway stopped up.

A dwarf had come up to Harry in the middle of the bloody hall and tried to stop him, causing Harry's bag to rip and drop everything to the ground.

You pitiful boy, I thought as I merely moved on the outskirts of the corridor, trying to get around the massive crowd.

Instead of following my lead, Malfoy strutted right over to my brother. "What's going on here?"

Harry, in reply, started to feverishly shove everything back into his bag.

"What's all this commotion?" Percy Weasley demanded to know as he, too, arrived on the scene.

Harry tried to make a break for it, but the dwarf seized him around his knees, causing him to fall to the ground. He was then sat on by the dwarf and made a horrified face as said dwarf started singing.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he were mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!"

Most of the crowd burst into laughter, and some even started crying from the force of their laughter.

I rolled my eyes at their childishness and continued on to Transfigurations. I ignored how a sudden hush fell over the crowd, just marching on without looking back.

Malfoy barely made it to Transfigurations on time, and he was scowling deeply. As McGonagall turned her back on us for a moment to conjure up writing on the board, he hissed at me, "Your brother attacked me."

I shrugged as if I couldn't help it, which I really couldn't, considering the two got on like a bunch of feral cats fighting over a scrap of food every time they met.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at me, but didn't get to say anything more as McGonagall turned back around.

The day soon ended, and I found myself walking up Lockhart's office just after dinner. I knocked on the door, and it opened almost immediately to reveal a brightly smiling man.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" Lockhart exclaimed, "What may I do for you?"

I pulled out my card, along with the box of chocolates that I had purchased a few days ago. I had them both out to him as I said, "I wanted to give this to you. Sending the letters by dwarves or owls seemed rather impersonal to me."

Lockhart accepted both the chocolates and the card with a bright smile. "You really are a dedicated fan!"

I fidgeted, a bit uncomfortable, though I masked that with a nervous smile. "I really admire you and your work, sir."

Lockhart nodded as if expecting that answer. He glanced down at the box of chocolates and asked, "Is this an assortment?"

"You mentioned in Voyages with Vampires that you preferred orange chocolate from Chrissy's Chocolates in Wales, so I got you a box of them," I explained, causing him to light up.

"Is that so?" He questioned with a wide smile. "Would you like to try one with me?"

"Oh, I couldn't," I denied quickly, "I bought them for you, after all."

"No, no, I insist," he said as he motioned for me to follow into his office.

I did so, though my gut instinct screamed at me to simply curse the man and run away.

Lockhart sat at his desk, which was piled up with fan mail and other small knick knacks. He opened his box of chocolates and pulled out two. He handed one to me, smiling widely, and kept the other for himself.

As I took it and ate it, I watched him flip open the card I got him. I felt ready for the earth to devour me while he read it over with me right there.

Lockhart, the absolute arse, set it down and gave me a grin that bordered on a smirk. "You must really be a fan, hm? I can't imagine it came cheap to you."

I flushed a bit, knowing that it hadn't come cheap by any stretch of the imagination. I had made the sacrifice, though, if only to stay ahead of Granger.

"I must admit, I don't have any other male fan as dedicated as you are," he said, causing me to blush a deeper hue.

"I-if you don't like it, I could always back off," I said, internally cringing as I figured I had overstepped my boundaries.

"No, no," he waved off, his grin widening as he looked down at me with an odd look in his eyes. "I don't mind one bit."

"You don't?" I asked as I shifted my footing awkwardly.

"Not at all," he said before asking, "Do you know why I like Chrissy's orange chocolate so much?"

"You didn't say in your book, but they are plenty delicious," I mused aloud.

The man chuckled as if I was an amusing piece of prey that he was ready to tear into. "There's that, yes…"

"Why do you really like them?" I inquired despite the warning alarms in my mind.

"Because of the potion they're made with, of course!" He chirped, causing my stomach to drop.

"They're made with a potion?" I repeated hesitantly.

Lockhart grinned widely down at me. "Have you ever heard of aphrodisiacs?"

I felt like puking up the chocolate I had eaten then and there. "I haven't," I lied, not wanting to be targeted by the man who may just have been off his rocker.

"They're typically a type of food or drink that causes people to act in a unique way," he informed me, "This particular aphrodisiac is a potion, and it's a strong one, too."

I hummed softly before hesitantly asking, "What happens when you eat the chocolates with aphrodisiacs in them?"

His blue eyes glinted in the dying candlelight. "Sit here for a few minutes with me, and you'll find out."

I was officially faced with a dilemma, and I desperately wanted to escape it at all costs. Instead, I sat down in the chair he motioned to, and he sat down next to me in a rather unprofessional manner.

"Do you want to try another chocolate?" He questioned as he popped one into his own mouth.

"I really did buy them for you," I said, but nevertheless accepted the chocolate given to me. I figured, if things began to turn sour, I would simply curse him and run to Madam Pomfrey for some kind of antidote to whatever aphrodisiacs was in my system. As I bit into it, my brow furrowed deeply. I pulled the chocolate away from my mouth as I chewed slowly.

"It tastes different the second time, huh?" Lockhart questioned as he ate a third one.

"It does," I confirmed.

"You should finish it," he instructed, and I did as told. He smiled as he set the box and card down on his desk before leaning over to me. "You know, Colton, I once had a friend that looked like you."

"Is that so?" I asked as I forced myself to give a smile. "I hope they were a good friend."

"Oh, they were a great friend to me," Lockhart said with a nod. "You remind me of their personality, too. They were so eager to please. It was quite endearing, actually."

My stomach clenched as I forced myself to remain calm. I may have been young, but even I knew where he was going with his little comparison. I wanted no part of it, and I hesitantly opened my mouth to tell him such.

Instead of letting me, Lockhart leaned over me and tried to kiss me.

I tried moving away, but he quickly grabbed me by my bicep. "Where are you going, Colton?"

"The bell for curfew is about to ring," I said hastily.

"I'll make sure you don't get in trouble," Lockhart assured me as he pulled me closer to him.

A genuine pang of fear filled me. "Sir, I-"

"Will this be your first time kissing someone?" The man asked teasingly.

"Yes," I admitted, not wanting to give something like that over to such a filthy excuse of a human being.

Instead of making him back off, a sick look of glee filled his eyes. "Is that so?"

The bell for curfew rang, and my stomach twisted. "Sir-"

He pulled me toward him and pressed his lips against mine.

I tried pulling away again, but I found myself weaker than him. I turned my head away instead, and said, "S-sir, this isn't proper-"

"I won't tell anyone," he said as if that would somehow make that messed up situation better. He narrowed his blue eyes subtly as he asked, "You won't either, right?"

I was going to answer, but there was a sudden knock on the door. I froze up upon seeing the dark look enter Lockhart's eyes.

"Who's there?" Lockhart demanded as he kept a firm grip on my upper arm.

"You're late for the staff meeting," a woman, Professor Sinistra, from the other side of the door.

The man's grip on me tightened to the point I would surely be left with a bruise. "I'll be there in a minute."

I knew I had two options to make, so I purposefully whimpered loudly.

Lockhart immediately snapped his gaze to me, but I kept my eyes on his hand, which had sunk its nails into my skin despite the fact my clothes were in the way.

"Is there someone in there with you?" Sinistra questioned.

"No," Lockhart lied as his grip stayed vice-like, "I believe there's a mouse in my office somewhere."

My stomach churned, and I felt quite ill upon hearing that. I had bitten off much more than I could chew, and I knew that I likely wouldn't get out of the situation without a major sacrifice.

"Very well," Sinistra said, "I'll tell the headmaster that you're on your way."

"Thank you," Lockhart said as he kept his eyes firmly planted on my face.

Sinistra began to walk away from the door.

I felt a bit of panic fill me as I finally looked back into his eyes. I didn't like the darkness that swirled around his forget-me-not blue eyes, and I especially didn't like how he had a feral grin on his face.

He leaned in and muttered, "Unless you want to get in trouble for trying to poison your professor with aphrodisiacs, I'd suggest you stay quiet."

You sick bastard, I thought as I kept my firmly mouth shut. I then allowed him to press his lips to mine one more time.

The man finally released my arm and leaned away from me. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it, Colton?"

I forced myself to shake my head.

His twisted smile returned before he suddenly brandished a wand at my face. "Still, I'd hate to get in trouble, and I'm sure you'd hate that, too."

"Wh-what are you going to do to me?" I asked despite knowing that my memories would likely get erased.

"It won't hurt," he assured me.

I was officially ready to scream when the door flung open.

"Lockhart, you-"

Lockhart and I both looked over.

Snape was in the doorway, staring at the two of us with a deeply furrowed brow.

I felt like crying in relief upon seeing the man that genuinely disliked my existence.

Lockhart stood up abruptly, sending the chair he was sitting on to fall over. "S-"

"What do you think you're doing to Mr. Potter?" Snape interrupted.

"Nothing, of course," Lockhart lied as he tried to give Snape a charming smile. "Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?"

I was torn between admitting I had made a mistake and just accepting defeat. I eventually nodded once, pretending that nothing occurred between the two of us.

Snape narrowed his eyes sharply before saying, "I see. In any case, you're late for curfew, Mr. Potter."

"I lost track of time," Lockhart said as he still kept his wand firmly in his grasp. "Don't be too harsh on him."

Snape sneered before saying, "Off to the common room you go, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, sir," I said as I got up. I quickly headed toward the door and passed by the Head of my House. I didn't even bother glancing back at either man as I rushed off toward the stairs. Instead of going down to the dungeons, I went up to the hospital wing and fretfully entered.

Madam Pomfrey looked surprised to see me enter, especially with my pale disposition. "What's wrong, dear?"

"I think I ate an aphrodisiac," I said as my clammy hands tightly clutched my bag's strap.

Alarm covered the woman's face. "What makes you say that?"

"The chocolates tasted funny," I said honestly.

She quickly ushered me to a nearby bed and asked, "What chocolates?"

"I - I bought some chocolates from Chrissy's Chocolates in Wales-"

"You did what?" She asked, looking at me in shock.

"Lockhart's book said the orange chocolate were good-"

"You're underage," she snapped, "You shouldn't have been allowed to buy them in the first place."

I flinched a bit, causing her to quickly backtrack.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you," she apologized, "How many did you eat?"

"Just two," I answered honestly.

"That's still two too many," she muttered worriedly before instructing me to sit still for a moment. The matron of the hospital wing quickly scurried off to her office, leaving me alone.

My stomach churned again, and I blinked a few times to make the gathering tears go away. I couldn't believe I had been foolish enough to not do my research before throwing myself into that clusterfuck.

The woman soon returned, and she was holding a bucket.

"Why do you have that?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's best to purge your system before I give you an antidote," Pomfrey said gently.

"You want me to throw up?" I reiterated.

"Unfortunately for you, yes," she confirmed.

I accepted that I took the bucket.

She flicked her wand at me, and my stomach clenched.

I leaned my head over the bucket and wretched. I spat up half of my dinner, got a second to take in a breath of air, and purged my stomach again. I gagged a few times afterward, tears and snot running down my face as nothing more came out.

After my gagging subsided, the woman offered me a box of tissues.

I took them in exchange for the bucket, and quickly wiped my face down. I threw my used tissues into the trash bin.

The woman took the bucket away and returned with a glass of water and a small vial.

I took the water and sipped it gently, not wanting to end up throwing that up and making my mouth taste that much worse.

She asked, "Mr. Potter, did you share those chocolates with anyone?"

I hesitated before looking down at the glass in my hands. "Yes."

"Who?" She asked. When I didn't reply right away, she said, "You won't get in trouble. You didn't know that they had an aphrodisiac in them."

Tears filled my eyes as I softly muttered, "I gave them to Lockhart."

Her brow furrowed. "When was this?"

I grit my teeth, angry that my eyes were burning the way they were. I rubbed them furiously as I replied, "After dinner."

The woman was silent for a moment before asking, "Dear, was it Lockhart that shared them with you?"

Anger filled me as I spat out, "He said that I shouldn't say anything to get him in trouble."

"Did he do anything else?" The woman demanded to know, a hint of anger in her own voice.

"Yes," I said, though I didn't want to admit that I was kissed by such a deplorable sack of shit.

"Stay here-"

"Don't tell anyone," I begged as I finally lowered my arm. "They'll think it was my fault."

"Is that what he said?" She asked as wrath clearly filled her disposition.

"He said I'd get in trouble for trying to seduce him because I got him the chocolates," I explained.

"Well, he's quite wrong about that," she hissed furiously.

The door opened at once, and Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape hastily entered.

I looked at Pomfrey in betrayal.

She ignored the expression on my face as the three adults approached my bed. "Lockhart gave him orange chocolates from Chrissy's Chocolates."

Snape immediately snapped his head around to look at me, but I had taken to staring at my glass of water again. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"Lockhart threatened him," Pomfrey explained, causing me to flush a bit in embarrassment.

"Is that why he was pointing his wand at you when I entered?" Snape demanded to know.

"I don't want to get into trouble," I muttered honestly.

"Dear boy," Dumbledore said gently as he looked down at me, "You're not going to get into trouble if you were threatened. As long as you tell us the truth, you won't be held liable."

I decided to spill my guts on what happened before Pomfrey could for me. I explained what had just transpired in Lockhart's office, ending with when Snape arrived. I then sipped my water once more, continuing to stare down at the ground instead of their faces.

"Dumbledore," McGonagall said with anger lacing her tone, "We need to tell the Aurors about Lockhart immediately."

Dumbledore rubbed his beard as he said, "I feared Lockhart would prove to be a problem when I hired him. I didn't know he'd be this much trouble."

"He clearly is not to be trusted around the students," Snape pointed out. "Who knows if he's done this to anyone else?"

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh before saying, "Indeed. Allow me to get in contact with Madam Bones." He turned heel and began to leave the hospital wing behind.

McGonagall requested, "Please, keep us updated about Mr. Potter's status." She then followed after the headmaster.

Snape stared down at me and asked, "Have you received an antidote for love potions yet?"

"I need one from your stores," Pomfrey admitted.

Snape nodded once before briskly walking off.

I held in a groan, knowing that I would likely get publicity out of this, which definitely wasn't wanted. Nevertheless, I sat there and waited for my inevitable harassment by the Aurors to come.