The Mysterious Warrior

Yes most of this chapter IS from the book - Chamber of Secrets - BUT this is where the deviation begins SO I had to begin somewhere and I am quite happy to start here. I'm not the only person to implement parts of the books into stories and I'm sorry if you find it lazy or uninspiring it's your decision whether to read it or not I'm not going to force the issue.

This story will contain BDSM between Tom/Harry in this story DomTom! and of course subHarry. If this sort of thing doesn't do it for you please do not read.

It may contain underage Harry, BUT not by much I don't really write underage Harry normally and he will be fully consenting. Someone asked for a similar story to willing, but with Tom/Harry... obviously it won't be the same but this is the idea that came to me.

As always I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe!


Chapter 1

"What about my sister?" Ron asked jerkily.

"Well, as to that ― most unfortunate," Lockhart said, avoiding their eyes, wrenching open drawers and emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I ―"

"You're the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Harry protested. "You can't go now! Not with all the dark stuff going on here!"

"Well, I must say… when I took the job…" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes, "nothing in the job description … didn't expect…"

"You mean you're running away?" Harry demanded disbelievingly. "After all that stuff in your books?" oh, he suspected the bumbling idiot hadn't done anything even remotely close to what he wrote about, but he had a part to play and play it he would.

"Books can be misleading," Lockhart said delicately.

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted he was a bigger idiot than Harry had given him credit for, imagine admitting he had misled everyone it was as good as saying he had made it up.

"My dear boy," Lockhart said, causing older Harry to grimace at the title; Dumbledore called him that and he hated the phrase. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on…"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" Harry asked angrily, to have gotten away with it, he must have done something terrible, either they were dead or he'd found a way to keep them quiet using magic. Harry wasn't sure which one he preferred, too bad Ron was here, otherwise, he would have made Lockhart's life a living hell, repaid the man for all he'd done. Or he wished he could really, unfortunately, he wasn't knowledgeable on a lot of magic yet, he couldn't risk going through the books he really wanted to in the library, too public, he was trying though, he went there during the night with his cloak and read what he could. He was nowhere near as advanced as he wished he was. He had a lot of catching up to do to compete with any pureblood.

"Harry, Harry," Lockhart sighed, shaking his head impatiently "It's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book-signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame; you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

Harry narrowed his eyes in displeasure, so that's how the bastard had done what he did, well at least he hadn't murdered them he supposed. Didn't stop Harry's thirst to teach the smug bastard a lesson. He would need to be careful though, he did not want Lockhart playing with his mind and removing his seems to be his go to.

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned on them.

"Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book…"

Harry had been prepared for it, it was disappointingly obvious. Lockhart had barely raised his, when Harry bellowed, "Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart was blasted backwards, falling over his trunk. His wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it and flung it out of the open window.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," Harry said furiously, kicking Lockhart's trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, wary once more. Harry was still pointing his wand at him. Sensing the darkness in Harry Potter that nobody else had yet.

"What d'you want me to do?" Lockhart protested weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," Harry said, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wand point. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go."

Chamber Of Secret entrance - Girls Bathroom - Hogwarts

"Harry," Ron suggested, "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

"But―" Harry broke off.

"Open up," he said.

"English," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Open up," Harry hissed.

The sink began moving; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight. It left a large pipe exposed a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

"I'm going down there," Harry declared.

"Me too," Ron volunteered.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," Lockhart said with a shadow of a smile. "I'll just ―"

"You can go first," Ron snarled.

White-faced and Wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

"Boys," he said his voice feeble, "Boys, what good will it do?"

Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the mouth of the pipe.

"I really don't think ―" he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. Harry followed quickly. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go.

"We must be miles under the school," Harry commented, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," Ron said, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

"Lumos!" Harry muttered to his wand, and it lit again. "C'mon," he said to Ron and Lockhart, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

"Remember," Harry said quietly, as they walked cautiously forward, "Any sign of movement, close your eyes straight away…"

"Harry, there's something up there…" Ron said hoarsely.

"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed back at the other two.

"Blimey," Ron gasped weakly, suddenly there was a commotion, and Lockhart had Ron's broken wand.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories! Obliviate!" he added in a shout.

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snakeskin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling which were thundering to the floor. The next moment he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Ron!" he shouted. "Are you okay? Ron!" he had to be alive, had to be awake otherwise he was going to be stuck down here with no way out.

"I'm here!" Ron shouted back, his voice muffled through the rock. "I'm okay. This git's not, though ― he got blasted by the wand. What now?" Ron's voice sounded desperate. "We can't get through; it'll take ages…"

"Wait there," Harry called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on. If I'm not back in an hour…"

There was silence for ages after that.

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," Ron said; he seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can ― can get back through. And, Harry ―"

"See you in a bit," Harry said, straightening his spine, at least he wasn't going to have to watch his back around Lockhart for the rest of the night.

Harry continued on, almost wishing there wasn't a huge snake roaming around here, otherwise he would have loved to properly investigate. This was Salazar Slytherin's secret domain for Merlin's sake, how awesome was this? His musings were cut short when he saw the red-headed girl lying on the floor.

"Ginny!" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Ginny! Don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders and turned her over. Her face was white as marble and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be…Merlin, no, please not dead, he couldn't go back to the Dursley's full time again. He'd rather run away than allow that to happen, and the prospect of living on the streets wasn't all that appealing especially after being at Hogwarts. His own double bed, warmth, all the food he wanted to eat, and more importantly pain-free.

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side making Harry feel extremely frustrated and angry.

"She won't wake up," said a soft voice, watching Harry closely, becoming increasingly annoyed at the fact the boy was paying so much attention to the useless girl, this was the one who defeated him? He who wasn't even aware of his surroundings?

"Tom ― Tom Riddle?"

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry asked desperately "She's not ... she's not..." He was unable to form the sentence.

"She's still alive," Riddle said, "but only just." Hearing his name usually left a foul taste in his throat…but coming from Harry it was somewhat adorable at how utterly naive he was. How had he gotten the better of his older self?

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly, wishing he was more experienced with magical matters.

"A Memory," Riddle said quietly, "preserved in a diary for fifty years."

"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, raising Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a Basilisk… I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment. Please, help me…" 'Save Hogwarts from closing down' went unsaid.

Tom did nothing other than bend over and pick up Harry's wand, which suited him very well, there was something familiar about the wand but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Thanks," Harry said, stretching out his hand for his wand, inwardly cursing himself for dropping it in the first place...especially when he knew there was a basilisk around.

"Listen," Harry said urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight, "we've got to go! If the Basilisk comes…"

"It won't come until it's called," Riddle said calmly.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked suspicion gnawing at him. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it."

"You won't be needing it," Tom said.

"What d'you mean, I won't be ―?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," Riddle said. "For a chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," Harry said, losing his patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," Riddle declared, as he pocketed Harry's wand.

"How did Ginny get like this?" Harry asked finally, his green eyes beginning to comprehend the even bigger picture.

"Well, that's an interesting question," Riddle said pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked in exasperation, was something like that possible?

"The diary," Riddle said, "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, how ―" Riddle's eyes glinted "―How she didn't think her famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…" which of course she wasn't.

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was a hungry look in them.

"It was very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back; I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. 'No one's ever understood me like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… it's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket'…" Riddle laughed.

"If I do say so myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring my soul back into her…"

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked; his mouth had gone very dry.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" Riddle asked softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"No," whispered Harry.

"Yes," Riddle calmly said. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… far more interesting, they became… 'Losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint on myself. I think he suspects me… there was another attack today; I'm going mad… think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!'"

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," Riddle said, "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…"

"And why did you want to meet me?" Harry asked, anger coursing through him, showing in those glowing emerald eyes, so Hogwarts nearly closing was his fault.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," Riddle replied. "Your whole fascinating history." Riddle's eyes shot straight to his lightning bolt scar and his expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, and meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust."

"Hagrid is my friend," Harry said, his voice now shaking, a friend was pushing it but nobody had to know that. "And you framed him, didn't you?"

Riddle laughed again.

"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student; on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls. But I admit even I was surprised at how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize Hagrid couldn't possibly be the heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance… as though Hagrid had the brains or the power! Not to mention the spider couldn't possibly have killed anything let alone the Mudblood."

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid here and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed. Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…"

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," Harry said, his teeth gritted, his mind spinning, he couldn't let Hogwarts close down, he couldn't go back to the Dursley's he just couldn't. This was why he kept up his pretence, so Dumbledore didn't see the real him, just the picture he painted of himself.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," Riddle carelessly said. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," Harry told him triumphantly "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready, and everyone who was petrified will be all right again." and hopefully Hogwarts would remain open.

"Haven't I already told you," Riddle quietly said, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been... you. Imagine how angry I was when next time my diary opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling the roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery... particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue…"

Harry pursed his lips; he had been tricked yet again into fighting a war that he had no desire to partake in.

"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her: she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"Like what?" Harry spat nastily.

"Well," Riddle said, still smiling pleasantly, "How is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care how I escaped?" Harry slowly asked. "Voldemort was after your time."

"Voldemort," said Riddle, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter." Shimmering words were quickly traced through the air.


Tom waved the wand once and the letters rearranged themselves.


"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 became the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"Ginny told you about me…so does that mean you don't remember anything past being sixteen? You don't know why you came after me?" Harry asked, gazing curious at the figure before him. Still holding the cold dying form of Ginny Weasley in his arms. His burning curiosity and a desire for information gleaming from his green eyes. He so badly wanted to know why Voldemort had come after him, Dumbledore had just been his usual cryptic self.

"Dumbledore didn't tell his great defender?" Tom said in a mere whisper, he had hoped to get an answer but it looked as though he wouldn't. He had desired to kill the boy who had caused his downfall, but that desire had faded the more he learned about Harry Potter.

Harry's brow furrowed, "No, he doesn't tell me anything, he set everything up last year so that we would meet…" he admitted, trying to buy himself some time to think of the best way out of this situation. Moving just slightly, but the teenager version of Voldemort's eyes narrowed on him further at his movement.

"So eager to leave, Harry Potter?" Tom asked, still eyeing Harry hungrily. "Shall I end this now?"

Harry gritted his teeth, "Stop this, please, I can't…can't let Hogwarts be closed down," not above pleading…he'd do anything for Hogwarts to remain open.

Tom moved over until he was boring down at the twelve-year-old, quite relishing in the position, "Do you like the girl that much?" jealousy squirming like a living thing in the pit of his stomach. Harry was his. His to do as he pleased, whether it was to kill or torment.

Harry stared perplexed by the question, "Yes, she's my best friends, little sister," he answered, not truly understanding the underlying question.

"That's not the real reason though is it, Pet?" Tom said, eyes gleaming avariciously, "You just don't want Hogwarts to be closed down," had Dumbledore truly let his little defender be abused just like he had left him at the orphanage? This he knew he could use to his advantage. There was more to Harry than met the eye, he wanted to uncover each and every secret. He had to know why his future self-had decided to go after him before he made any decisions. Harry seemed bewildered at the pet name, innocent, pure, someone he could mold…cherish, protect, and in turn, he would desire to protect him. Even against Dumbledore, completely obliterating any plans the old fool had up his sleeve. Unfortunately, it meant that Miss Weasley would survive, but he was getting the better end of the bargain.

Harry gritted his teeth at the feeling of uselessness and anger consuming him.

"I'll give you one opportunity to save the girl and Hogwarts…one chance," Tom said, crouching down to get a better look at Harry, soon, very soon, he would be his completely if he had his way and considering how desperate he was to save the school Tom knew he would accept it no matter the consequences in the future. He wanted to sneer at the hopeful look on his face, wondering if it was feigned or if he truly was the Gryffindor he seemed to be…but Tom had a feeling it wasn't what he seemed and his feelings were never wrong.

Harry backed away a little at the closeness of Tom; the only time anyone came close to him was to hurt him so it was instinctive. "How?" he uttered suspiciously.

"You swear an oath on your magic to give an item to Lucius Malfoy; you must give it to him in his hand," Tom stated his tone serious, there were plenty of ways in which he could be brought back, all he needed was a soul; he could simply make sure that Malfoy did as he instructed which he would if he was anything like Abraxas. It was the only Death Eater he knew was on the outside, the only one Ginny Weasley had named. He hated the name given to his knights but needs a must. "When I approach you again you must promise to do the one thing I ask."

Harry swallowed thickly, his mind conjuring up the most horrific things he could be asked to do.

"The offer is for a very limited time," Tom informed him, before adding softly, "I'm afraid Miss Weasley doesn't have much longer."

"Fine, I'll do it," Harry murmured in defeat, he could see no other way out of this situation with Hogwarts remaining open to him. The chances of him seeing Tom like this again was slim to nothing…he had no idea where he lived and surely Voldemort wouldn't try and get him at Hogwarts again he was afraid of Dumbledore.

Smirking triumphantly Tom made up the terms of the magical oath, and both of them swore on their magic however, reluctantly it was on Harry's part. The diary now safe from Harry's destruction by means of the oath was placed in his hands from where it had lain discarded by Ginny Weasley's side. Tom then gave him instructions on what to do and say to Malfoy.

"Obliviate!" Tom chanted at the unconscious female, making her forget everything about the diary.

Tom began to glow until he was obscured from view, Harry's vision was blinded until the light faded away, Tom was gone, and Ginny began to gasp for breath at the same exact second. Swallowing thickly, Harry slid the diary into his pocket so Ginny didn't see.

His heart pounded away like a drum, wondering what he had done…what he had been thinking so much so that he was not listening to Ginny cry and apologize knowing instinctively she was to blame for being down here despite not remembering. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this situation?

"We need to get out of here, come on," Harry said, getting both of them up off the wet floor, even as they walked Harry still felt as though he'd done something really, really wrong.

Harry didn't know it yet, but he would soon be thankful for it for like was about to take an unexpected turn.

I've edited this story a little since people are quite confused as to what year it is etc... so I'm going to make it a little easier to follow at least I hope so! R&R