The Basilisk’s eyes were reflected in the armor at the end of the corridor, and within monts, Professor Burbage was petrified, frozen mid-step before she could even react.
“Sleep well…” Kyle whispered, invoking the “shutdown password” Slytherin had shared with him. The Basilisk obeyed, slithering back to the Chamber of Secrets as commanded.
Now, however, Kyle faced a new problem. Charity Burbage wasn’t supposed to be found until later that night, but it was still broad daylight, and this corridor was a main passage to the fourth floor. If he left her here, soone would discover her too soon. With no other option, Kyle carefully moved her to an empty classroom nearby, hiding her safely before hastily leaving the area.
That evening, he returned to the kitchen under the pretense of practicing magic and requested the House-elves to tidy up the corridors as a favor. The House-elves were all too happy to oblige.
...
As ti moved forward, December brought the usual ghostly festivities, and Valentine’s Day ca with its Dwarven serenades, all without any major incidents. Kyle found himself adapting to his strange routine—spending his days reading, practicing Nonverbal Spells, and refining his control over wandless magic.
He found wandless magic both fascinating and challenging. Without the aid of a wand, his spells were weak and imprecise, as if he were trying to split wood with his bare hands instead of an axe. Still, after nearly two months of practice, he finally managed to transform a beetle into a button… though the result was rather lopsided and resembled Ron’s attempts at best.
However, one unexpected inconvenience was the frequent visits from the Gryffindor trio to the Room of Requirent. Fortunately, Hogwarts Castle was large enough for Kyle to slip away unnoticed and read sowhere else.
...
But when Hagrid was taken away by the Ministry, a new tension settled over Kyle. He found it difficult to focus, knowing that the fifth attack was approaching. This ti, the stakes felt higher: Ron’s impending petrification marked the beginning of the end of this strange ti loop, and the weight of it pressed on him.
One evening, just five days after Hagrid’s departure, Kyle, lost in thought, carelessly opened the Room of Requirent without casting his Disillusionnt Charm. To his shock, he nearly bumped into Hermione, who had just co up the stairs.
“Kyle?” she said in surprise, her eyes wide with confusion. “I just saw you eating in the Great Hall… how are you up here already?”
“Oh, I just rembered I left my Interdiate Transfiguration book in the Room of Requirent,” Kyle replied as smoothly as he could manage. “I ca up through a secret passage, that’s probably why you didn’t see .”
“Hogwarts has secret passages?” Hermione’s eyes widened with even greater surprise.
“Of course,” Kyle nodded, keeping his tone casual. “There’s one on the second floor, behind the Sphinx tapestry. It leads straight to the eighth floor—a lot faster than taking the stairs.”
“Oh, I see! I’ve never heard of that one before,” Hermione said, intrigued but not suspicious.
...
After nearly being discovered by Hermione, Kyle exercised extre caution. Each ti he left the Room of Requirent, he double-checked that his Disillusionnt Charm was perfectly in place.
Finally, the day of Ron’s attack arrived. Kyle decided to take a calculated risk and approached Fred and George, asking to borrow the Marauder’s Map.
“If you’re hoping to catch the heir in action, don’t get your hopes up,” Fred cautioned. “We’ve been watching the Marauder’s Map every night, and nothing’s co up.”
“I bet the coward’s just hiding,” George added with a shrug.
Kyle accepted the map, replying, “No worries—I just need sothing to pass the ti.”
With the Marauder’s Map in hand, Kyle returned to the Chamber of Secrets. He knew Riddle had grown strong enough to focus on Ron, likely targeting his wand as a conduit. To prevent any unwanted outcos, Kyle planned to take control of the Basilisk and ensure it petrified Ron without harming him, maintaining the illusion of Riddle’s control.
He tracked the timing on the Marauder’s Map. From his past mory, Professor McGonagall had said Ron was attacked after parting ways with Lockhart. Kyle located Lockhart’s na in the Great Hall and waited. Ten minutes later, the al ended, and Lockhart led a group out, including Ron.
Kyle watched tensely as Lockhart’s group reached the third floor, then stopped near the Gryffindor common room before turning back. anwhile, Harry and Ron began descending rapidly, parting ways on the third floor—Harry moving toward Filch’s last-known location and Ron heading in the direction of the second attack site.
This is it, Kyle thought, summoning the Basilisk and preparing to set the plan in motion.
But then sothing unexpected happened on the map. Ron suddenly halted after rounding a corner, and monts later, the na Peter Pettigrew appeared, casually entering a nearby classroom.
What…? Kyle watched, bewildered.
A few minutes later, Harry’s na appeared, pausing next to Ron’s location briefly before hurrying back toward the third floor. Shortly after, several professors arrived, moving Ron’s na toward the Hospital Wing.
Kyle stared at the map in shock, his mind racing. Could it be that Ron wasn’t simply petrified? He hadn’t considered the possibility that Riddle had used another thod.
Reflecting on Ron’s oblivious nature, Kyle realized a Basilisk attack wasn’t even necessary—Peter could easily have stolen Ron’s wand multiple tis over without him ever noticing.
As the professors gathered in the Hospital Wing and Peter Pettigrew slipped out unnoticed, Kyle snapped back to the present, deciding to return the Basilisk to the statue. But suddenly, he was overco by a familiar dizzying sensation, as if the world were speeding up around him. Colors and shapes blurred past in a whirlwind.
In the haze, he heard faint sounds: Professor McGonagall’s voice, the strain of distant music…
“Stupefy!”
A flash of blue light blinded him montarily, and when his vision cleared, he saw the Basilisk’s head swinging dazedly after colliding with a nearby pillar. A large crimson bird swooped down and landed on Kyle’s shoulder, covering his eyes with its wings.
“Professor McGonagall… Fawkes…” Kyle murmured in astonishnt. He had returned—to his original ti.
A realization struck him, and he shouted, “Close your eyes!”
The Basilisk, still slightly stunned from McGonagall’s Stunning Spell, closed its eyes obediently at Kyle’s command.
Professor McGonagall froze, staring at Kyle in disbelief. “Kyle, you—”
“No, Minerva, that’s not Kyle,” Dumbledore said, stepping forward with a grave expression. He gestured toward a shadowy black mist coiling in the chamber. “That is Tom Riddle.”
“Long ti no see, Professor Dumbledore…” Riddle began, turning with a sinister smile, but his words dissolved into a piercing scream. His body contorted, his limbs flailing as he writhed in agony. Monts later, he exploded, vanishing in a puff of black smoke like a cheap firework.
“Apologies, Professor Dumbledore,” Kyle said calmly, pulling the diary free from the Basilisk’s fangs, now dripping with black ink. “I didn’t think you’d want to exchange words with him, so I took the liberty of silencing him.”
“I must say, thank you,” Dumbledore replied softly, though a complicated look crossed his face.
“Would soone please explain what on earth is going on?” Professor McGonagall demanded, glancing nervously at the enormous Basilisk and clutching her chest as she caught her breath.
Harry peeked out from behind the crowd, looking equally baffled.
“He was, perhaps, the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen,” Dumbledore began. “Very few know that Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. Fifty years ago, he attended Hogwarts, and I taught him myself. After graduation, he vanished, descending further into dark magic until he reerged as Voldemort.”
“But…” Professor McGonagall’s voice wavered. “Why is he here, now?”
“It’s because of a Horcrux, Professor,” Kyle explained, holding up the ink-soaked diary. “Voldemort left this diary behind during his school years. It contains a piece of his soul from when he was sixteen.”
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