Chapter 93: Quirrell

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Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above. It was ancient and monkeyish, with a beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor.

And between the feet, facing towards the statue, stood the figure of a tall black-haired boy fiddling with something that was blocked from his view by the figure's body.

Suddenly, a loud painful screech of static, not unlike an old telly, filled the Chamber. Before Harry could even lift his hands to cover his ears, it stopped, and a piano started playing. The figure stepped back, and a playing gramophone came into view, sitting on a spindly table.

Whoever it was, was comfortable enough to play music in a situation like this, and that didn't sit right with Harry. Harry frowned, and cast an Observe on the figure and waited for the window to pop up.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

The piano from the gramophone had stopped playing by the time Harry confusedly wondered if what was happening and why the Observe wasn't showing up, having led smoothly further into the song where a guitar strummed rhythmically in the background, and a saxophone played a soothing jazz.

The figure turned around, and much to Harry's shock, looked at him straight through his Cloak with a smile.

"I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter," he said with an unnerving smile, slightly blurring around his edges. Harry uneasily noted the blurring and wondered if this was a ghost.

And then it hit him. Maybe it was the red eyes or maybe it was the familiar words that he had heard from the mouth of Quirrell a year ago, but Harry instantly knew without a single shred of doubt that he was talking to Lord Voldemort.

"You!" he spat almost involuntarily, letting his cloak slide off of his shoulders, "What did you do to Lisa!?"

Meanwhile, Hedwig quickly grabbed the cloak in her talons, flew up into the air and perched herself on the head of one of the snakes that wound around the Chamber's pillars, obeying Harry's instructions of keeping herself as much out of danger as possible.

Riddle keenly watched Hedwig fly up into the heights, ignoring Harry's question. After Hedwig had found her perch, he turned to him and said, "You know who I am. How?"

A spike of pain in his head suddenly startled Harry. A window had popped up in front of him.

Ping!

Legilimency attack averted.

"That trick doesn't work on me Riddle," Harry spat at him, wincing under the spike of pain.

Riddle's eyebrows rose and the smile fell off his face, "How do you know that name?"

"Doesn't take much to figure it out," Harry snarked, before he stifled his anger and activated Gamer's Mind to its full extent.

The world around him slowed to a crawl as his mind sped up to incredible rates.

Alright, he told himself. The situation had suddenly gone worse than rock bottom. Now he had to deal with a basilisk and an incorporeal teenage dark lord who he didn't have the element of surprise on anymore since the dark wizard had seen him use his abilities when he had faced him last year.

Great!

He started to scan through anything and everything he knew about Voldemort. He could attack him, but as far as he knew, he had no way of hurting spirits or ghosts.

Furthermore, he had to find Lisa, and the only way to do that was to find out where Voldemort took her. Since he couldn't force him to tell him, he'd have to trick him.

'What is Voldemort's weakness?' Harry asked himself, 'What is his Achilles heel?'

It didn't take too long for him to figure it out.

Voldemort was a megalomaniac. He enjoyed bragging. He enjoyed letting his victims know how well he had played them, and how they were completely helpless in front of his genius and power and were facing certain death. So if he could convince him to tell him about his plan, he would be able to find Lisa.

But Voldemort wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't go around monologuing to someone who he thought was going to beat him and foil his plans. Harry needed to make himself appear weak and powerless if he wanted to find out where Lisa was.

A rudimentary plan formed, the world around him sped back up.

"Doesn't it?" Riddle continued, his face expressionless, "I'd always thought that I hid it well en-" His spiel was interrupted when a ball of fire passed straight through him and hit Slytherin's toe behind him.

'Two birds with one stone,' Harry thought. He now knew for sure that his wandless magic couldn't hurt Riddle and that he was actually a spirit. And he also set up his act of looking helpless in front of him.

Ping!

A skill has leveled up due to clever planned use!

Theatrics, Lv- 9 (30%)

You have a penchant for the grand, a wish to bedazzle and the desire to intimidate. This skill helps you achieve it.

Harry closed the window. Something about Riddle's expression was making Harry uneasy. Riddle was looking at Harry's hand with an expression of utmost shock and surprise. That surprise, he noted with some befuddlement.

There was no faking that. Somehow, Voldemort was not only younger than when he had faced him last time, he also didn't have any memories of their last confrontation, where he had clearly seen him use his wandless magic.

Nevertheless, he had a plan to stick to. So he forced an expression of utter shock and terror onto his face.

"What are you?" he whispered, injecting terror into his voice, "How did that not hurt you?"

Riddle's surprise vanished, replaced by a greedy victorious expression, "I've wanted to see you for the longest time, Harry. To speak to you.

And now that we meet, you have surprises up your sleeve! Wandless magic… occlumency… all so similar to my own.

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