HP: Bad Intentions

Blake stood silently in the shadows, observing the scene unfold before him. Ginny, clutching a black-covered diary, moved into the bathroom with an expressionless gaze. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if controlled by something—or someone—else.

Blake's sharp eyes darted to the stall where Myrtle hid, understanding for the first time why the ghost often lingered in this place. Tom Riddle's influence, he realized, could easily manipulate someone as emotionally sensitive as Myrtle.

Ginny stopped before the sink, her eyes unfocused. Slowly, she raised the diary, opening it toward the faucet. An ethereal figure emerged—a handsome boy with dark hair and an air of arrogance beyond his years. Blake cursed inwardly at the familiar sight of Tom Riddle's spectral form, whispering to himself, "Such confidence for someone who's just a shadow."

Tom, his form still faint and translucent, bent toward the serpent engraving on the faucet, hissing in Parseltongue. Blake immediately recognized the command: "Open the door." The sinks began to shift, revealing a wide, gaping pipe—an entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Tom's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. For him, this moment was years in the making, an opportunity denied to him fifty years ago when Dumbledore's watchful presence kept him in check. Now, using Ginny as a pawn, Tom could finally unleash the basilisk.

Ginny's expression remained blank as she followed Tom's commands, jumping into the pipe without hesitation. Blake hesitated for only a moment before following her, the enchanted cloak he wore slowing his descent. He watched as Ginny slid down, her body moving like a marionette controlled by invisible strings.

When they reached the bottom, Ginny, still under Tom's influence, navigated the underground tunnels with eerie precision. They stopped before a massive circular door, its surface carved with intertwining serpents. Tom materialized again, hissing in Parseltongue to command the door to open. The serpents' heads shifted, unlocking the door with a resounding click. This time, Tom didn't retreat into the diary but floated alongside Ginny as she struggled to push the door open.

Blake slipped through the door behind them, his eyes scanning the dimly lit chamber. Massive stone pillars adorned with snake carvings loomed overhead, their shadows stretching across the floor. At the far end of the room stood a towering statue of Salazar Slytherin, its aged face framed by a long, stony beard.

Ginny stopped at the foot of the statue and collapsed as Tom waved a hand. Her body went limp, her eyes closing as if in deep sleep. Tom's gaze shifted to the statue, his expression betraying a mixture of reverence and ambition. In Parseltongue, he issued a command, and the statue's mouth opened with a deep rumble. From within, a massive basilisk slithered out, its emerald scales glinting even in the low light.

Blake's golden eyes flashed as he activated his protective magic. The deadly gaze of the basilisk, which could kill anyone who met its eyes, was rendered powerless against him. Even without this immunity, Blake's sharp senses and combat readiness would have made him a formidable opponent.

The basilisk hissed hungrily, its words clear to Blake: "Hunger... must hunt..." But Tom ordered it to wait, promising that the roosters outside—the creatures it feared most—would soon be dealt with. Reluctantly, the serpent retreated, disappearing back into the statue's mouth.

Tom turned his attention to Ginny's unconscious form, but before he could act, two spells shot out from the shadows. One struck Ginny, gently lowering her to the ground, while the other hit the diary, suppressing the malevolent soul fragment within. Tom's spectral form faltered, his remnant soul forced into a dormant state by Blake's expertly cast necromancy magic.

Stepping out of the shadows, Blake pocketed the diary and knelt beside Ginny. He gently touched her forehead with his wand, murmuring a spell to restore her lost memories. Ginny's eyes fluttered open, her expression shifting from confusion to fear as the memories of her possession flooded back.

"I..." she began, her voice trembling, "I didn't mean to..."

Blake's calm demeanor seemed to steady her. "It's over now," he assured her. "You're safe." He conjured a cup of hot cocoa and handed it to her. "Drink this. It'll help."

Ginny clutched the cup, her hands shaking. The realization of what had happened hit her hard, but Blake's presence provided a strange sense of comfort.

"We'll need to tell Professor Dumbledore about this," Blake said gently.

Ginny's eyes widened in panic. "But... what if I'm expelled?"

"You won't be," Blake replied firmly. "None of this was your fault. The diary manipulated you."

Reassured, Ginny allowed Blake to help her to her feet. As they retraced their steps to the pipe, Blake explained how he had followed her after noticing her strange behavior. Ginny listened quietly, gratitude evident in her gaze.

When they reached the pipe, Ginny looked up at the steep incline, her brow furrowing. "How do we get back up?" she asked.

Blake smiled. "Leave it to me." Without waiting for a response, he picked her up, ignoring her embarrassed protests. With a swift movement, his enchanted cloak propelled them upward, the wind rushing past as they soared through the pipe. Ginny clung to him tightly, her initial shock giving way to awe.

"You can fly?" she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and wonder.

Blake chuckled. "Something like that."

They emerged back into the bathroom, the sink shifting back into place behind them. Ginny glanced at the now-ordinary bathroom, her fear replaced by relief. The ordeal was over.

As Blake carried her toward the headmaster's office, Ginny found herself reflecting on the night's events. Despite the terror she had experienced, there was something reassuring about Blake's unwavering support. She rested her head against his shoulder, exhaustion finally overtaking her.

Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, Fred and George Weasley were hiding from Filch in an empty classroom. The Marauder's Map lay spread out before them.

"Ha! The old codger's heading for the seventh floor!" Fred whispered with a grin.

George's expression suddenly shifted. He pointed at the map, his hand trembling. "Fred... why is Ginny with Blake? And why are their dots so close together?"

Fred's eyes narrowed. "That scoundrel! Is he... is he carrying her?"

"Where's my wand?" George growled. "We're going to have words with Blake!"

"And by 'words,' you mean hexes," Fred added, already plotting their revenge.

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