Basilisk

Tom Riddle took a while to calm himself down. He realized that he had far more essential things to do instead of competing with Ravenwood. He directed his mind to find out what that creature mentioned in the Chamber of Secrets article was.

He headed toward the library early on the weekend, trying to find a peaceful surrounding to get the information needed.

It felt like he and Morsia were now inseparable, as wherever he was, she was there tailing him and keeping a watch on him. But he didn't expect her to be dusting off the library shelves early on a weekend.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he rushed, closing in on her.

"Detention, Freak," she said curtly, moving the books.

"Oh, yes," Riddle smirked shamelessly, forgetting about getting hit by her previously. "But I believe Professor Dumbledore didn't send you here?"

Morsia stopped her dusting process and turned to look at him, "Very well, Riddle, you're aware... Dumbledore told me to choose between cleaning his office or the library, and I obviously came here."

"Why?"

"Why? To keep an eye on you, of course," she said, smiling, her dimples prominent on her cheeks.

Riddle felt a surge of annoyance building up inside him, reaching its limits. He tried to shake off Morsia's presence, determined to focus on what he came for. Ignoring her, he made his way through the shelves, swiftly scanning the books he needed.

Time passed by in a blur as he delved into one ancient book after another. His relentless pursuit paid off as he stumbled upon a page hidden within a particularly old and tattered book titled "Most Macabre Monstrosities." The brittle pages crackled as he carefully turned to the desired section.

//Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.//

'Oh yes, I've read about this!' he cheered internally. 'So it's a serpent?'

His thoughts momentarily drifted away from the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, landing on his dead corpse during the Defense Against the Dark Arts class session. He had been thinking about it a lot, as it was the only thing that ever frightened him.

The ritual he had read about for creating a Horcrux was the only way for him, and he wanted to fully harness the magic in his blood. Although he was eager about it, he felt a little scared about the ritual itself.

In a moment of panic, he suddenly turned to look at Morsia, wondering if she had noticed him looking troubled and sweating. But she had come from behind and attempted to hit him with a book, which missed him because he turned.

"Nice instincts," Morsia retorted, sliding into the chair in front of him.

He silently buried himself in the books again, his thoughts consumed by the ritual. He was fully immersed in planning his next move, so much so that he didn't even hear Morsia reading her book aloud. That was until he heard familiar words.

"--to become the receptacle of a fragmented piece of soul, and that piece of soul deliberately detached from the Master Soul to act as a future safeguard or anchor to life and to safeguard against death--"

"What are you reading?!" Riddle quickly grabbed the book from her; it was indeed the same book he had read that day - Secrets of the Darkest Art.

Just then, he realized he had messed up by showing concern about her reading this part. She had already seen him reading it, and now he had inadvertently confirmed the truth of whatever she had suspected about him.

He slyly attempted to change the topic, "You don't have a teacher's note."

Morsia appeared unfazed, and Tom wondered if he had misjudged the situation. Perhaps she was merely reading out of curiosity.

"I do have a teacher's note... doesn't matter if it's for cleaning," she replied, shaking her head before standing up from her seat.

As Morsia walked away, Tom felt a wave of relief wash over him. He hadn't even realized how her presence had made him feel cautious. However, just as he started to relax, she turned around with a smirk, "Good luck with that, Riddle."