HP: The Beast God

A/N----(Guys first of all I'd like to thank you all for hitting 100k views on this fanfic, and my special thanks to Orion2004, AndaPanda, DaoistOfTheAbyss, Shady_Emad_, INDRA32, Cindy_Davids_5782 and Demon_Killer2025 for your awesome support and encouraging me through comments it really means a lot. Anyways enjoy the chapter.)

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I gawked at Pansy, who smiled back at me, crossing her arms over a black book she was nearly hugging. The idea that she was the one behind all the attacks at Hogwarts left me speechless.

"Pansy… Why…?" I asked in disbelief. She never attacked others she deemed 'lower'—only refused to cater to them for her potions.

Pansy looked at me with a massive, blood-curdling smile, madness swirling in her eyes. She giggled, tilting her head. "For you, of course!"

I stammered, shaking my head while Hermione—now back to her normal appearance—tugged on my robes tighter.

"I… I never—"

"You didn't have to!" she cut me off, her smile so wide it seemed her face couldn't contain it. Her eyes and mouth curled like crescent moons as she giggled with glee. "I know all of your thoughts! I can hear them with the help of this precious diary!" she yelled, holding the black diary up like a sacred text.

"And with the help of me."

Another male voice suddenly interrupted. I turned to see a Slytherin I had never seen before slowly stepping out from the shadows of the dimly lit chamber. Pansy scoffed but stood close to him, like a friend she was eager to introduce.

She spoke with giddiness, "Lucas, this is Tom Riddle—the owner of the diary!"

"I don't—" Hermione began, but Pansy quickly shouted her down.

"Stay out of this, Mudblood!!"

Hermione jumped, biting her lip in anger, gripping my shoulder with her nails digging in.

Tom Riddle chuckled a bit, patting Pansy's shoulder.

"It's so good we can finally meet face to face, Lucas… I've been dying to meet you."

I squinted at him, distrust in my voice.

"How have I never seen you in Slytherin before?"

Tom chuckled while Pansy explained, "Tom left a memory of himself in his diary and has been helping me—helping us!"

"After hearing so much about you and seeing some of your traits firsthand… I understood why I picked you as my protégé," Tom added.

"I've never met you, nor have you taught me anything," I replied.

He raised a brow, his cocksure smirk widening.

"Just a quick flick, you parry the incoming spell, and riposte with your own. Parry and riposte—the most basic concept of dueling."

My stomach dropped. The memory of that particular lesson—almost word for word—flashed through my mind, along with the teacher who taught it to me.

"You can't… Voldemort?"

Tom chuckled mischievously. "Indeed I am. When I was a student here, I worked at a small trinket shop in Diagon Alley and learned of my true heritage—my true calling. But after purging only one Mudblood, that blithering old fool kept an annoyingly close watch on me."

His words struck me, and a flash of Merlin's tale surged back in my mind: trinkets led to heirlooms, heirlooms led to treasures… treasures one might keep around one's neck.

I raised my hand, brushing my chest, mimicking my forefather with his prized possession.

"Salazar's locket…" I mumbled.

Tom paused, slightly surprised, but his grin grew.

"Indeed. Once I saw what was rightfully mine, I took the message engraved inside, granting me permanent control over the sweeping veil of death."

His smile turned wicked as he uttered that chilling phrase, but morphed quickly back into a sneer.

"I was being closely watched after my first test, so I left behind a memory of my 16-year-old self in a diary. One day, I would open the Chamber again, fulfill Salazar Slytherin's noble goals, and purge this school of all its filth!"

He turned to Pansy.

"But I needed a hand. A memory is all I am—for now. That can change."

He glanced toward Hermione, still clinging to my shoulder.

"I require strength. We discovered this Mudblood's little scheme and decided to let it play out for our own benefit," Tom said.

Pansy chimed in, "She sticks to you whenever she has a chance! We had so many opportunities!" she shouted angrily, then calmed.

"But Tom thought it best for you to remove her yourself."

I looked at her, shocked. Her speech was the most violent I had ever seen from her.

"Remove…?" I echoed.

Suddenly, Pansy pulled out her wand and pointed it at Hermione.

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand, which she had been stealthily drawing, flew far behind her. She scrambled to retrieve it.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Hermione froze, stiff as a board, and began to fall. I caught her and gently lowered her to the floor.

"Ever the gentleman…" Tom observed. "But to those Mudbloods, you really don't have to be. Give her to me."

He held out his hand. His playful tone was gone.

"Yes! If you do, Tom can help us purge the school of all those filthy Mudbloods and race traitors!" Pansy exclaimed.

"Is… is that why you attacked Chiara and Weasley? Because they're close with Hermione?" I asked.

Pansy nodded. "Of course! I wanted to get rid of that one a long time ago, but—"

Tom cut her off, stepping closer to me.

"Bring her to me. Place the diary in her hand so that I may regain my former glory."

I instinctively stepped back toward Hermione, still lying frozen. Her eyes pleaded with me, just like in the Forbidden Forest.

My fists trembled. I finally spat the words that had been eating me up.

"I can't!!" I screamed, gasping for air, eyes clenched shut.

"Hah… I had doubts…" Tom sighed.

"No. No, no, no. Lucas, you've been tricked by that Mudblood! I'm right here! I'm right in front of you!" Pansy cried. Her manic smile faltered.

She fell silent when Tom raised his hand in front of her. Her expression turned blank and hollow—like a doll.

Before I could speak, Tom whispered, "Is this because you're worried about your cursed blood?"

A searing pain hit my head. My instincts screamed run, but my legs refused to move.

"Wh-What do you mean…?" I stammered.

Tom chuckled. "She can't hear anything now. There's no need to hide from me…"

He continued.

"You have nothing to fear, Lucas. I would never throw you away for your affliction—your lycanthropy."

My heart raced. My hands trembled. My palms were clammy.

'No… I can't be…'

But the signs were there: the sleepwalking, the magic outburst once a month, the wrecked room, the connection to animals… I always knew. I just didn't want to see it—just like my parents.

Tom chuckled. "Look at that Mudblood…"

I did. Hermione's eyes were wide in horror. Tears brimmed at the edges.

"Do you really think she—or anyone—would spare you if they knew what you are?" Tom asked.

"They cast out your kind, call you monsters, shun you for their peace of mind. I can build a school where you don't have to be ashamed. You can lead it with me. Together, we can reshape the world!"

I looked at him, wonder on his face, imagining a better world. All I had to do was take his hand.

I raised my right hand, slowly… until I felt a sting on my chest.

Val had nipped me.

"I'll always still like Lucas! Lucas is family!" Val hissed from my collar, his dark blue eyes locking with mine.

"Lucas is strange… What's wrong with strange?"

I let out a soft laugh. His innocence saved me.

I pet his head, my eyes glassy, then looked back at Tom.

I saw it clearly now—how he used sweet words to control me, like he did Pansy. My friend.

I scowled, clutching my chest where my locket sat.

"No. I don't need your 'partnership.' You speak as if you're above others, yet look at what you've done to Pansy. I won't help you. I'm cutting you off."

Tom sighed and shook his head.

"Pity…"