This story contains copious amounts of homosexual bestiality. This means, lots of weird looking penises, kink, and possible tentacle fucking. This is PORN WITH A PLOT! BE WARNED!

Disclaimer: This chapter is a modified excerpt from J.K Rowling's Book Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I do not own any of the characters, and only the plot of this fan fiction. Please support the official release.

english: "blah"

telepathy: 'blah'

parseltongue: :: blah::

THIS IS HOW ITS GOING DOWN! IM PUBLISHING THE ENTIRE BIT IVE ALREADY WRITTEN UP TO THE SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER RIGHT HERE! ONE LONG GIANT "PART ONE" OF THE STORY.

PART ONE. MEANING THERE WILL BE PART TWO BEING WRITTEN UP AS SOON AS I HAVE A WAY TO GET THE FILE. I HAVE FINISHED THE ENTIRE YOTS STORY. BUT I WILL NOT UPDATE FOR A LONG TIME. I HAVE TO EITHER GET THE FILES OFF MY HARD DRIVE ON A DIFF COMPUTER OR REWRITE IT. WHEN IT IS RETRIEVED OR REWRITTEN I WILL PUBLISH IT LIKE ONE GIANT "PART TWO"

prologue

Harry was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit cathedral like room. Towering marble pillars entwined with more carved serpents of jade rose to support a ceiling lost in oblivion, casting long, dark shadows through the eerie, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?

He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his 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 him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkey-like, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"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

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

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

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him

"Tom—Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately. "She's not—she's not -?"

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

Harry 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.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "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 Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there—but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"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."

Riddle didn't move. Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.

But his wand had gone.

"Did you see -?"

He looked up. Riddle was still watching him—twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.

"Thanks," said Harry, stretching out his hand for it.

A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes—"

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

Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.

"What d'you mean?" he said. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it—"

Riddle's smile broadened.

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

Harry stared at him.

"What d'you mean, I won't be -?"

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

Seryeshka purred contently in his slumber, the fruit of his last hunt churning pleasantly in his belly. The soft, muffled sound of his master's voice flowed into his ear pits. He could smell the faint scent of anger, apprehension and impatience that lingered in the air. Master was finally alive and well. Soon he would feed upon better, more appetizing and filling prey. What his master called moodbloods tasted so much better than the chickens and rats he had been surviving off of for the last sixty years.

::Ooohhh yesss.:: He hummed to himself, a forked tongue flickering out with anticipation as if tasting their delicious flesh already. ::Soon I will be at masters side and all will be well…::

"-killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been -you."

Harry stared at him.

"Imagine how furious I was when the next time my diary was written in, it was the Weasley bint who was in possession of me, not you. She had seen you with the diary, you understand, and panicked. "What if you found out how to talk to me, and I repeated all her little worries and wants to you? What if, even more worrisome, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the ugly little wench waited until your dorm was empty and stole it back. But I knew what I had to do. It was obvious 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 mates was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you..." he paused to glare daggers at the boy. "-were a Parselmouth…"

"So…" he grinned, his eyes flashing the familiar crimson he had seen in his first year. "I made Ginny write her own lament on the wall then come down here to die. She whimpered and sobbed and the whole affair turned very tedious. But there isn't much life left in her...as you can see." He gestured a hand to her soon to be corpse. Inwardly he grinned, he knew that in only moments, her body would be overtaken by rigormortis. And Harry would have died in vain.

'How tragic.' He thought with sadistic pleasure.

"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." At that moment he saw a glimmer in the child's eyes, one of curiosity at the same instant he felt the last of Ginny's life sive into his own. The girl was dead…and he was none the wiser.

"Like what?" Harry spat, fists still clenched.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "How is it that you a skinny brat with no extraordinary magical skill—managed to defeat the greatest wizard of the eon? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were drained…stolen by a toddler."

There was an odd red gleam in his eyes now, like moments before. Only this time it was hungry and feral; glistening with bloodlust.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry cautiously, "Voldemort was after your time…

"Voldemort," said Riddle dangerously, voice trembling with mirth, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."

He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three flaming words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves smoke curling into nothingness:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

Blank, yellow eyes suddenly filled with the spark of consciousness and surprise. Something was off…not quite right. Seryeshka could feel it tingling in his scales and the very depths of his magical core. Something he had not felt in a millennium.

::what is out there that vexes me so?:: he muttered to himself.

"Sorry to disappoint you and all that," harry growled, baiting tom as long as he could to devise a plan to save Ginny. "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 at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days—"

The slightly domineering smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed out, eyes practically glowing now.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted. He 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 Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his 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 Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

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

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

"Fawkes?" Harry breathed, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently

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

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry's 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?"

Harry didn't answer his hand reaching for the old hat and took it in his hands, a slight feeling of…knowing, emitting from it as he instinctively put it over his head, not hearing the hysterical laughter from Riddle as he watched the seemingly foolish boy.

"Ahhhh young Harry…up against your old foe once again I see." The hat chuckled into his ear. "what a shame you did not let me place you correctly, you may have been better prepared for this." Had harry been able to look this hat in the face he would have given it an incredulous look of panic.

"it's a bit of a bad time for banter!" he shrieked. "help me!"

"foolish boy!" the hat scorned, "You are a Slytherin by nature! Use that cunning of yours!"

"cunning! I have n-"

"stop this insolence, and think for once!" the hat wanted nothing more than to box this whelps ears. "ignore what those infernal Gryffendor's have waterlogged your mind with and think like my Slytherin's should!"

"I –what?" had he just heard what he thought he had? He waited a moment but there was no reply other than Riddle's impatient growl.

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

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

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul—"

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now... there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike... But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him..."

He cast an amused eye over Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, then walked away. Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed—but Harry understood what he was saying...

::Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.::

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout, "Don't leave me!" but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents?

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder—he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice: "Kill him."

The basilisk was moving toward Harry; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way—Voldemort was laughing...

Harry tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming.

There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars.

He couldn't help it—he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers.

Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned—Harry looked straight into its face and saw its eyes, both its great…gorgeous…golden yellow eyes…

Harry froze where he stood, absolutely transfixed by them and unable to look away. For a split second, he felt as if a shimmer of recognition passed through him, his body shivering unconsciously as he felt a tug to his soul as it began to slip from his body, just as he saw the bird erupt in a burst of flames into a pile of ash; and Riddle's eyes widened with manic triumph as the boy slumped to the floor.

Suddenly, the basilisk lunged at him past his master, throwing him aside, crashing into the stone wall into the wall with a hiss of panic, as two long, poisonous fangs were sinking deeper and deeper into the man child's arm.

Riddle slid down the wall, a small splatter of blood behind where his head had been, his neck bent askew as he fell to the ground, dead only moments after his rebirth.

Harry's vision went foggy as he lay there, white hot agony spreading through his veins with the venom. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color.

A patch of scarlet popped out of a sea of grey, and Harry heard a peep as the phoenix was reborn.

'Fawkes,' thought Harry appreiatively. 'You were fantastic, Fawkes...' He could almost hear echoing voice of Riddles taunts, though in his delirious state, he did not know that the Heir of Slytherin was once more, dead and gone.

'You're dead, Harry Potter,' said Riddle's voice in his mind. 'Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying.'

Harry blinked. Fawkes's head slid in and out of focus poking out of a small pile of ash. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers to the floor as it watched the boy unable to do anything in its current state.

'I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry.'

Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.

'So ends the famous Harry Potter,' said Riddle's distant voice. 'Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry... She bought you twelve years of borrowed time... but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must...'

But as Riddles voice echoed into nothingness his thoughts slowly regained clarity and the presence of the fangs left his arm as a heated body seemed to wrap around him, almost protectively.

If this is dying, thought Harry, it's not so bad. Even the pain was leaving him...and the cold of the chamber was dissipating.

But was this dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus, slowly but surely. Harry gave his head a little shake as his eyesight slowly came back and gasped.

There was the broken body of riddle against the wall, collapsed onto the floor. What had happened? He made a move to shift where he lay, but found himself wrapped in the strong muscular grip of the basilisk.

Looking up he saw, once more the strangely beautiful glow of its yellow eyes, transfixed by its stunning contrast to the grotesque face they adorned. So hypnotic were they, that a sense of peace came over him as the exhaustion took over his body, sending him into the realm of dreams, unable to register the hiss in his ears.

:: Return to me…::