Chapter 6 — The Blood of the Heir
I didn't sleep that night.
Not because I was afraid.
At least, that was what I told myself.
The truth was much simpler.
I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened inside the Chamber of Secrets.
The basilisk.
The ancient runes.
The symbol that had appeared on my arm.
The vision.
Salazar Slytherin.
The mysterious man with white hair.
And, above all...
Tom Riddle.
I sat on the edge of my bed in the Slytherin dormitory, staring at the small black locket resting on the desk across from me.
It looked completely ordinary.
That was the most disturbing part.
There was nothing particularly impressive about it.
No jewels.
No elaborate decorations.
No visible enchantments.
Just an old black locket.
Yet I knew something was inside it.
Something that had spoken to me.
Something that knew my name.
Something that knew my blood.
I leaned forward.
—System.
[Yes, host?]
—Analyze the locket.
[Beginning analysis.]
A blue window appeared.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then...
[Analysis failed.]
I frowned.
—Try again.
[Analysis failed.]
—Again.
[Analysis failed.]
I stared at the window.
—You're telling me you can analyze almost everything I've encountered, but not this?
[Correct.]
—Why?
[The magical structure of the object is interfering with the system's analysis.]
I leaned back.
—Can you at least tell me if it's dangerous?
There was a brief pause.
[Yes.]
—How dangerous?
[Extremely.]
I sighed.
—That's not very helpful.
[The system never claimed to be helpful.]
I blinked.
Then laughed quietly.
—You're becoming more sarcastic.
[The host's personality is influencing system interactions.]
—So this is my fault?
[Confirmed.]
I shook my head.
—Wonderful.
My eyes returned to the locket.
I reached toward it.
My fingers were only a few centimeters away when I felt something.
A whisper.
Not from the room.
Not from outside.
From inside my mind.
Open me.
I immediately pulled my hand back.
My expression hardened.
—So you can influence thoughts.
The locket remained completely still.
I picked up my wand.
—Then let's establish something.
I pointed it directly at the object.
—You're not controlling me.
Nothing happened.
I lowered my wand.
For several seconds, I simply stared at it.
Then I smiled.
—You'll have to do better than that.
---
The next morning, I entered the Great Hall with very little sleep.
The atmosphere was different.
The usual noise had been replaced by whispers.
Students were talking in small groups.
Some looked nervous.
Others looked excited.
A few seemed terrified.
I didn't need to ask why.
The Chamber.
Everyone knew something had happened.
I sat at the Slytherin table.
A few students immediately looked at me.
Then quickly looked away.
I ignored them.
I picked up my fork.
I had barely started eating when someone sat beside me.
—You didn't sleep.
I looked to my side.
Hermione.
Her hair was slightly messier than usual.
There were dark circles beneath her eyes.
—Neither did you.
—That's different.
—How?
She frowned.
—I'm worried.
I smiled faintly.
—So am I.
She looked around before lowering her voice.
—Did you investigate the locket?
I nodded.
—A little.
—And?
—It's dangerous.
Hermione stared at me.
—That's all?
—That's all I know.
She sighed.
—Michael, we need to tell someone.
I shook my head.
—Not yet.
—Why?
—Because I don't know who I can trust.
Hermione's expression changed.
—You trust me.
I looked directly into her eyes.
—Yes.
She hesitated.
—Then trust me enough to let me help you.
For a moment, I didn't answer.
She was right.
I reached inside my robes and pulled out the locket.
Hermione's eyes widened.
—Not here!
—Relax.
I placed it carefully on the table.
She looked around nervously.
—If someone sees that...
—Then we'll deal with it.
Hermione pulled out her wand.
—Specialis Revelio.
The locket glowed faintly.
Hermione's expression changed.
—There's Dark Magic surrounding it.
—I know.
—No.
She moved closer.
—It's not just surrounding it.
Her voice became quieter.
—There's something inside.
I stared at her.
—What kind of something?
She swallowed.
—Something that feels... alive.
Before either of us could react...
The locket opened.
Neither of us had touched it.
A thin stream of black smoke escaped.
Hermione immediately raised her wand.
—Michael!
I reacted on instinct.
—Protego!
A magical shield appeared between us.
The black mist crashed against it.
The Great Hall went silent.
Hundreds of students turned toward us.
The smoke disappeared.
The locket closed.
I stared at it.
Hermione stared at me.
Then I slowly looked toward the staff table.
Professor Snape was watching me.
But he wasn't looking at my face.
His eyes were fixed on the locket.
His expression was unreadable.
I put the object away.
Then Snape stood.
—Mr. Black White.
Every conversation in the Great Hall stopped.
I looked at him.
—Professor?
—My office.
He turned around and walked away.
Hermione looked at me.
—Be careful.
I nodded.
Then followed him.
---
The moment the door to Snape's office closed, the atmosphere changed.
The room was dark.
Shelves filled with strange ingredients covered the walls.
A cauldron stood in one corner.
The smell of herbs and potions filled the air.
Snape turned toward me.
—Where did you get it?
I remained silent.
—Mr. Black White.
His voice became colder.
—That was not a request.
I looked at the locket.
—Found it.
—Where?
—In a place where I shouldn't have been.
His eyes narrowed.
—The Chamber.
It wasn't a question.
I said nothing.
Snape stepped closer.
—So you opened it.
—Perhaps.
—And entered.
—Perhaps.
His expression darkened.
—You have no idea what you've done.
—Actually, I think I have a fairly good idea.
—Do you?
—A little.
He stared at me.
I decided to test him.
—Tom Riddle.
Silence.
For the first time since I had met Severus Snape...
I saw something different in his eyes.
Fear.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
Then it disappeared.
—Where did you hear that name?
—The locket.
Snape's expression became unreadable.
—Impossible.
—It spoke.
He stepped closer.
—What exactly did it say?
I watched him carefully.
—It asked who I was.
—And?
—Then it told me that my family made a mistake by letting me live.
Snape remained silent.
I smiled slightly.
—You know something.
—You are making assumptions.
—And you're avoiding the question.
His eyes became colder.
—There are things about the magical world that you are not prepared to understand.
—Then explain them to me.
—No.
—Why?
—Because curiosity is often what kills foolish children.
I laughed softly.
—Fortunately, I'm not a foolish child.
Snape stared at me.
—You are walking toward forces that even experienced wizards fear.
—Good.
He frowned.
—Good?
—If everyone else is afraid of them, then someone has to understand them.
Snape stepped toward his desk.
—You are too confident.
—I've been told that before.
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then his gaze moved toward the locket.
—Do not open it again.
My expression became serious.
—Why?
Snape's voice lowered.
—Because some things are better left dead.
I stared at him.
There was something behind those words.
Something personal.
—Professor.
He looked at me.
—Have you met Tom Riddle?
For the briefest moment, his face froze.
Then...
—Leave.
I smiled.
—That's what I thought.
I turned toward the door.
—Mr. Black White.
I stopped.
—Yes?
—Whatever you believe you discovered...
His eyes were unusually serious.
—Do not assume that you understand the people involved.
I nodded.
Then left.
---
The corridor outside Snape's office was empty.
Or so I thought.
—That didn't go very well.
I turned.
Hermione was standing beside a suit of armor.
I raised an eyebrow.
—How long have you been there?
—Long enough.
—You followed me?
—Yes.
—You really don't listen.
—Neither do you.
Fair enough.
We began walking.
—What did he say?
—He knows about the locket.
Hermione's expression changed.
—How?
—I don't know.
—Do you trust him?
I thought for a moment.
—No.
She nodded.
—Good.
We continued down the corridor.
Then I noticed the book she was carrying.
—What's that?
She looked down.
—I found something in the library.
—About Slytherin?
—Yes.
She handed it to me.
The cover was old.
The Ancient Houses of Britain.
I opened it.
The first pages contained information about the oldest magical families.
Black.
Lestrange.
Malfoy.
Rosier.
And then...
White.
I frowned.
—I've never seen this book before.
—Neither had I.
I continued reading.
The White family was described as one of the oldest magical bloodlines outside Britain.
Their origins were unclear.
Their early history had been deliberately hidden.
But there was a footnote.
I read it twice.
"Certain branches of House White are believed to have intermarried with descendants of Salazar Slytherin."
My eyes widened.
—Hermione...
—I know.
I turned the page.
Another passage mentioned an ancient agreement.
A pact between several bloodlines.
Three names were repeated.
Slytherin.
Black.
White.
The Rosier family appeared later as another branch connected through marriage.
I slowly closed the book.
—My family knew.
Hermione looked at me.
—Probably.
—No.
I shook my head.
—They knew.
—How can you be sure?
I touched the symbol on my arm.
It had disappeared after we left the Chamber.
But I could still feel it.
—Because the basilisk recognized me.
Hermione remained silent.
—And Tom Riddle knew about my blood.
—Maybe he was talking about your family in general.
—No.
I looked at her.
—He said my blood was interesting.
Hermione's expression became serious.
—Then your family has been hiding something from you.
—Exactly.
I closed the book.
—My mother knows.
—Are you going to ask her?
—Yes.
---
That evening, I returned to my room.
I took out a piece of parchment.
I thought carefully about what I wanted to write.
Finally, I began.
Mother,
I need to know the truth about our family.
About Salazar Slytherin.
About the Chamber.
And about the pact between our bloodlines.
I stopped.
Then added:
Please don't lie to me.
I folded the letter.
A small owl carried it away.
I watched it disappear into the night.
Then I waited.
One hour.
Two.
Three.
Nothing.
I eventually lay down.
I didn't sleep.
At around midnight...
I heard tapping against the window.
I immediately sat up.
An owl was perched outside.
A black owl.
It carried a letter.
I opened the window.
The owl flew inside and dropped the letter onto my desk.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My mother's.
I opened it.
There was almost nothing written.
Only one sentence.
"If you have discovered the Chamber, then it is time for you to know the truth."
Below it was an address.
And a date.
I read it again.
Then I noticed the final line.
My expression changed.
"Do not trust the Headmaster."
I stared at those words.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Dumbledore.
The greatest wizard in Britain.
The Headmaster of Hogwarts.
My mother had just warned me not to trust him.
Why?
What did she know?
I folded the letter.
Then placed it inside a hidden compartment beneath my desk.
I wasn't going to tell Hermione yet.
Not until I understood what was happening.
---
The following days passed strangely.
The castle seemed tense.
Professors patrolled the corridors more frequently.
Students stayed in groups.
Even the Slytherins had become quieter.
And the rumors continued spreading.
Someone had opened the Chamber.
A monster was inside Hogwarts.
The heir had returned.
Some students had already begun pointing fingers at Slytherins.
I ignored all of it.
Until one afternoon.
I was walking toward Transfiguration when I heard screaming.
I immediately turned around.
Students were running toward the corridor.
I followed.
The moment I arrived, I saw the crowd.
Something was lying on the floor.
A student.
Petrified.
My expression hardened.
Someone had been attacked.
Again.
Hermione appeared beside me.
—Michael...
I looked at the wall.
There was another message.
But this one was different.
The letters were larger.
Darker.
And far more deliberate.
THE HEIR HAS AWAKENED.
The corridor became chaotic.
Someone pointed at me.
—It's him!
Another voice followed.
—He's a Slytherin!
—He speaks Parseltongue!
—He's the heir!
The accusations spread quickly.
I remained completely still.
I didn't defend myself.
I didn't need to.
Hermione stepped in front of me.
—Stop it!
Someone laughed.
—Why are you defending him?
—Because you're all idiots!
The corridor went silent.
Hermione's face reddened.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
The system appeared.
[Warning.]
[Public perception of the host has changed.]
[Potential threat detected.]
[Political influence within Hogwarts has increased.]
I sighed.
—Wonderful.
Hermione looked at me.
—What?
—Nothing.
I looked at the message again.
Someone wanted everyone to believe I was the heir.
But why?
If the real heir was trying to hide...
why draw attention toward me?
Unless...
I wasn't the target.
I was the distraction.
My eyes narrowed.
—Interesting.
Hermione frowned.
—What?
—The message.
—What about it?
—It doesn't say that the heir opened the Chamber.
She stared at the wall.
—You're right.
—It says the heir has awakened.
—What's the difference?
—A big one.
I looked toward the petrified student.
—Someone wants us to think I'm responsible.
Hermione nodded slowly.
—Then they're trying to frame you.
—Exactly.
---
That night, I returned to the Chamber.
Alone.
I opened the entrance and descended.
The basilisk was waiting.
Its enormous head emerged from the darkness.
—You knew this would happen.
The creature stared at me.
—Blood awakens.
—What does that mean?
Silence.
—Who opened the Chamber?
The basilisk hissed.
—Heir.
—Who?
The creature lowered its head.
Then spoke.
—Diary.
I froze.
—Diary?
The basilisk nodded.
My mind immediately connected the pieces.
Tom Riddle.
The locket.
The voice.
The Chamber.
A diary.
An object capable of communicating with someone.
An object capable of influencing them.
An object capable of acting through them.
—So that's where you are.
The basilisk hissed again.
—Find the diary.
—Where?
The creature turned its head toward the darkness.
—School.
I frowned.
—You're saying it's still here?
The basilisk nodded.
—Hidden.
I looked around the chamber.
—Can you sense it?
—Yes.
—Where?
The basilisk raised its head.
Then hissed one word.
—Girl.
My expression changed.
—A girl?
The basilisk nodded.
I thought about the students.
Then one name entered my mind.
Ginny Weasley.
I had barely interacted with her.
She was young.
Quiet.
Usually shy.
But...
I remembered seeing her carrying an old black diary several times.
My eyes widened.
—Tom...
The basilisk looked at me.
—Riddle.
I clenched my fist.
—So that's how you're doing it.
The creature lowered its head.
—Find diary.
I nodded.
—And when I do?
The basilisk's yellow eyes glowed.
—Kill memory.
I stared at it.
Then smiled.
—Gladly.
---
The next morning, I went to the library.
I needed information about enchanted diaries.
Hermione was already there.
She looked up when I approached.
—You disappeared last night.
—I had something to investigate.
—The Chamber?
I nodded.
She immediately lowered her voice.
—What did you find?
I sat beside her.
—A diary.
Her eyes widened.
—A diary?
—Tom Riddle is using one.
Hermione stared at me.
—How do you know?
—The basilisk told me.
She remained silent.
—Michael...
—Yes?
—We're talking about a basilisk as if it's a normal source of information.
I smiled.
—When you say it like that, it does sound strange.
—Because it is strange!
I laughed.
She sighed.
Then she pushed a book toward me.
—I found something.
I opened it.
The chapter was about magical objects.
One passage had been underlined.
"A sufficiently powerful wizard may preserve a fragment of consciousness within an enchanted object."
I stared at the sentence.
My expression changed.
—A Horcrux.
Hermione frowned.
—What's that?
I closed the book.
—Something extremely dangerous.
—How dangerous?
I looked at her.
—Dangerous enough that creating one requires an act most wizards would consider unforgivable.
Her expression became serious.
—What does it do?
—It anchors part of the creator's soul to an object.
Hermione's eyes widened.
—Soul?
I nodded.
—And if Tom Riddle created one...
I looked toward the window.
—Then destroying the diary won't necessarily be enough.
Hermione stared at me.
—How do you destroy something like that?
I remained silent.
Because I already knew the answer.
And I didn't like it.
---
Later that day, I found Ginny Weasley.
She was sitting alone.
The diary was beside her.
I stopped.
My eyes immediately focused on it.
Black cover.
Old.
Exactly as I remembered.
The locket inside my robes became warm.
I froze.
The diary responded.
A magical connection.
There was no doubt.
I walked toward her.
—Ginny.
She looked up.
—Michael.
Her expression was nervous.
—Are you okay?
—Yes.
She quickly picked up the diary.
Too quickly.
I smiled.
—What's that?
She hugged it against her chest.
—Nothing.
The system appeared.
[Target detected.]
[Magical anomaly confirmed.]
[Probability of connection to Tom Riddle: 98.7%.]
My expression remained calm.
—It's a nice book.
Ginny looked at me.
—It's mine.
—I know.
She stood up.
—Excuse me.
She walked away.
I didn't stop her.
Not yet.
Because I had just learned something important.
The diary wasn't controlling Ginny completely.
Not yet.
It was gaining influence.
And if I acted too quickly...
Tom might realize that I knew.
I needed a plan.
A good one.
---
That evening, I sat alone in the Slytherin common room.
The green light from the lake illuminated the room.
I held the locket in my hand.
—Tom Riddle.
The locket vibrated.
I smiled.
—You can hear me, can't you?
Silence.
—You're hiding inside objects.
The locket became colder.
—You're manipulating Ginny Weasley.
Nothing.
—And you know who I am.
The locket opened.
Black smoke emerged.
A familiar voice whispered.
—You're learning.
I smiled.
—So you admit it.
—You are more interesting than I expected.
—You should be careful.
Tom laughed.
—You think you can defeat me?
—No.
I looked directly at the locket.
—I know I can.
Silence.
Then...
—Your blood will belong to me.
My smile disappeared.
—Try.
The locket slammed shut.
I stared at it.
The room became silent again.
But this time...
I wasn't afraid.
I was angry.
Very angry.
Because Tom Riddle had made one mistake.
He had threatened my blood.
My family.
And the people I cared about.
I stood up.
The symbol on my arm began to burn.
The serpent appeared again.
The crown appeared beneath it.
And finally...
the black dragon.
The system appeared.
[Hidden Bloodline Quest Unlocked.]
[Objective: Discover the origin of the Black Dragon Bloodline.]
[Current progress: 3%.]
[Warning.]
[The host's bloodline is undergoing gradual awakening.]
I stared at the message.
—Black Dragon...
For the first time, I wondered if Salazar Slytherin had truly been the beginning of my story.
Perhaps he wasn't.
Perhaps he was simply one piece of something much older.
Something that connected my three bloodlines.
Black.
White.
Rosier.
And perhaps...
something else.
Something even more ancient.
I looked toward the dark lake outside the window.
The water moved slowly.
Then I heard it.
A distant hiss.
Not from the Chamber.
Not from the basilisk.
Something else.
Something far away.
Something that seemed to recognize me.
The system appeared one final time.
[Unknown entity detecte