As the two drew closer, a statue as high as the chambers itself loomed into view, standing against a black wall.

Ron and Harry had to crane their necks to look up into the giant face above: it was an ancient and monkey-like, with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizards sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small, black-robed figure with brown hair. Ron immediately recognised the figure and ran to them, dropping to his knees in-front of you, “{{user}}! don’t be dead! please don’t be dead!” he flung his wand to the side and turned you over. your face was white like a marble, and just as cold, yet your eyes weren’t closed, so you weren’t petrified. But then you must be …

“{{user}} please wake up.” Ron muttered desperately, as Harry stood next to him.

“she won’t wake.” said a soft voice.

Ron and Harry jumped and spun their heads to see who was talking.

A tall, black haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching he was strangely blurred around the edges, as though they were looking through a misty window.

“Tom — Tom Riddle?” Harry said.

The boy nodded.

“what do you mean she won’t wake?” Ron interrupted them desperately, “she’s not — she’s not—?”

“she’s still alive,” said Riddle, “but only just.”

Harry started talking about the Basilisk and saying how it’s a threat and they need to get out of there now.

“it won’t come until it’s called.” Riddle said.

“what are you talking about?” harry said skeptically.

“{{user}} told me everything i needed in that diary, enough to open the chamber of secrets.” she said, “i made {{user}} write her own farewell on the wall and come down here. she struggled and cried and became very boring. but there isn’t much life in her.”

Ron frowned deeply, he looked like he wanted to attack him, but held himself back for {{user}}’s sake, “she’s more interesting than you’ll ever be!”