𝟎𝟒𝟒; ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ

                                    

                                          
























SHE KEPT HER EYES NARROWED, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone 
snakes seemed to be following her.
More than once, with a jolt of the
stomach, she thought he saw one stir.
Then, as she drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the
Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.
Coventina had to crane her neck to look up into the giant face above: It
was 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 between the feet, facedown, 
lay a small, black-robed figure 
with flaming-red hair.
"My daughter!!" Molly cries out.
"We can see that."
"Weasel girl." She walked toward her and bend down to check her pulse which was beating but weakly.
Arthur tense, he was worried for his daughter but at least she was alive.
Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be.
"Wake up," Coventina shook her,Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side. "She won't wake," said a soft voice.
Coventina turned around and stood up. A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar,
watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though she were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking
 him.
"Tom Riddle." Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Coventina's face.
"How is he there?" Sirius tilt his head.
"Monty..." Euphemia clench her hand on her husband's shoulder.
"Calm down, Effie.."
"Is the girl dead?" Coventina asked.
"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just." Coventina stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.
"What are you?" Coventina asked, her eyes on Riddle.
"A memory," said Riddle quietly.
"No shit sherlock!"
"Again with the detective name thing?"
"Preserved in a diary for fifty years."
He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Coventina had found in Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom.
"So that's where the diary was."
Coventina frowns, her wand had gone.
"Give it to her back!" James frowns.
"Chill, Malachi."
She looked up. Riddle was still watching her - twirling her wand
between his long fingers.
"Give it here," said Coventina, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth.
He continued to stare at Coventina, twirling the wand idly. "And where is the basilik?" She asked.