Incapacitated by both internal and external pain, Riddle found himself at the mercy of the girls who had reduced him to a living target.
"Langlock!!" Luna capitalized, leaping forward without wasting a second. Although the silencing charm wasn't flawless, it managed to glue Percy's tongue to his palate, nullifying his ability to utter complex sentences in the midst of his agony.
"Locomotor Wibbly!!" Daphne finished from the side.
Percy's legs lost all substance, turning into a jelly-like, unmanageable mass that made him stumble over the oil-covered surface. Incapable of taking a single step that wouldn't lead him headfirst to the ground, he was left completely exposed.
"Expelliarmus!!" Ginny's voice echoed through the chamber, projecting the disarming charm against her own brother without a shred of hesitation.
It was impossible to tell whether the young girl harbored some hidden resentment or if she simply channeled all her determination, but the impact was devastating. The magical flash not only sent Percy's wand flying through the air like a spinning knife, but the kinetic impact audibly fractured the bones of his hand and forearm. The violence of the blow propelled his emaciated body a meter backward.
Yet, as incredible as it seemed, with his face congested and laced with veins from the effort, his tongue immobilized, his eyes bloodshot, his lower limbs useless, and one hand completely broken... Riddle concentrated every single particle of residual energy to force Percy's living corpse to stand upright. His aristocratic and historical pride forbade him from falling to his knees; if he was destined to lose, he would fall standing, upholding the arrogance of his name. He refused to accept the humiliation of defeat in what he considered an uneven lynching... But destiny did not plan to grant him a dignified exit.
While he rapidly consumed Percy's life force to manifest non-verbal magic and break the restrictions, Lavender Brown dashed at full speed toward him. Without a second thought, she threw herself to the ground, executing a perfect American football tackle straight into his jelly-like knees, bringing down the prefect's towering figure with the weight of her small body.
The rest of the girls converged upon the target in a blink, just as Riddle attempted to channel wandless magic fueled by pure, unadulterated hatred. Without giving him an opportunity to gesticulate, the girls pounced in a mass, initiating a brutal beating in pure Muggle fashion.
It was ambiguous to discern whether it was a premeditated strategy, a tactical coincidence, or if the collective adrenaline simply degenerated into such barbarism, but an implacable rain of punches and kicks began to fall upon my brother's possessed body. Having endured the rigor of the unforgivable curses, the burns, and the pain of the battle, the students needed a cathartic escape valve and opted for a primitive, highly savage method to settle the score. None stayed on the sidelines; each member made sure to land at least one solid blow upon Percy's bruised physiognomy. Among them, some displayed flashes of highly refined cruelty, albeit complying with my directive to keep him alive.
Penelope kicked Percy's crotch a couple of times with a neurotic intentness, as if that violent gesture were an absolute demonstration of loyalty and a purging of guilt over her previous comments. On the other hand, Lavender took all the time in the world to repeatedly stomp on his balls, wearing a perverted and ecstatic smile, completely tuning out the environment as if she were enjoying the best party of her life.
Finally, the contingent pulled back, panting and stepping away from the battered body of Percy Weasley, who lay upon the bloodstained cobblestones, convulsing slightly and having lost almost every trace of human dignity...
The girls, exhausted and wheezing, backed away from the body on the floor. Some leaned on their own knees, spent, contemplating the disaster they had wrought with a fleeting smile of victory and an adrenaline rush they had never experienced in their lives... At least until the high subsided. Upon closely observing the mangled body on the ground, they remembered with brutal lucidity that the individual they had just mercilessly beaten was Percy Weasley. Immediately, the collective euphoria transmuted into a cold blanket of fear, nervousness, and deep guilt.
"Congratulations… You have won," an unfamiliar voice was heard from one side of the room, drawing out the words in an utterly contemptuous tone.
All the students turned their heads in that direction. Floating in the gloom rose what appeared to be the specter of a handsome teenager, whose disdainful gaze judged the surroundings. However, he differed completely from the common ghosts of the castle; his silhouette possessed an anomalous clarity and magnetism.
"Bravo..." the apparition articulated, clapping slowly and deliberately. "You have left Percy on the brink of death..."
On the spot, while some of the girls prepared to pose the typical and irrelevant question of "Who are you?", the most reactive ones immediately opened fire upon the projection. Nonetheless, the hexes passed right through the translucent silhouette without causing him the slightest scratch, dissipating against the columns in the back.
"Don't even bother wasting your wands; you will achieve absolutely nothing," Riddle decreed with indifference.
Yes, he had been defeated, and that represented an insult to his pride that he would struggle to digest; but at this point, he chose to downplay its significance. It didn't alter the final result. He attributed the fall to the blatant numerical disadvantage and to the fact of being limited by the biological flaws of Percy's container, not his own. Once he consolidated his resurrection, he would settle every grievance with interest, both against the brat who destroyed his adult counterpart and against this club of girls that had dared to humiliate him.
"Are... are you Voldemort?" a timid voice inquired from the group.
The rest shared the same stupefaction. Those who had attacked out of pure preventive reflex already suspected it, but the visual confirmation was disconcerting. It was bizarre to witness that the Dark Wizard who starred in the darkest legends to scare children in the magical community—that implacable tyrant and genocidal maniac—manifested before them in the guise of a handsome young man. It shattered their preconceived notions. The only thing that offered them a minimum of relief was witnessing that, just as their spells did not affect him, he showed neither the intention nor the capacity to attack them directly, providing them with a narrow margin of safety.
"That is correct… I am Tom Riddle. This was my imprint during my years of academic excellence," he declared with a mixture of arrogance and casual mockery as he floated toward them.
He silently enjoyed noticing how the harem instinctively made way for him, keeping on edge and pointing their tense, helpless wands at him.
"I reiterate my congratulations, you managed to overpower me… Or rather, you overpowered Percy. I find the dramatic twist fascinating: did the poor wretch harbor the notion in his final minutes that he would be executed by his own schoolmates? By the woman he desperately yearned for and by his own sister?" he added, weaving each word with the precision of a psychological dagger.
"We didn't kill him!" Tracey shot back, her voice trembling.
"He's still breathing!" Padma seconded, fearing the weight of that sentence far more than the very presence of Voldemort's specter.
"But for how much longer?" Riddle sketched a perverted smile. "I have been inside him for so long that..."
"Hehe... gay..." leaked the muffled murmur of Lavender Brown from the rear.
Despite her own bruises and the dismal atmosphere, Lavender had already unsheathed her notebook and was frantically taking notes without averting her eyes from Riddle's handsome countenance and Percy's inert silhouette. The sketch and the literary piece she was crafting at this exact instant were far from suitable for the consumption of those present.
Several of the girls turned to look at her in absolute confusion at the poorly timed interruption, but the bewilderment was short-lived. Although it suited Riddle to stall for time, under no circumstances did he plan to allow these girls to dissipate the psychological oppression he had sown. He needed to block their mental clarity; he noticed that among the group there were minds pragmatic enough to make a drastic resolution... like extinguishing Percy's remaining spark of life to cut off his incarnation process. His absolute priority was to keep them focused on his figure and force them to experience terror one last time, savoring their despair in case events took an unforeseen turn.
"As I was saying… His life force is almost entirely in my possession, and given the wounds inflicted… his organism is already incapable of resisting," he sentenced with implacable coldness, looking at them over his shoulder. "Beholding his agony is your only option; my advent is a done deal. And when I resurrect… it will give me great pleasure to show you the true meaning of power. You will no longer deal with the echo of a possessed student, but with the absolute presence of Voldemort… Consider this evening your last great experience," he concluded in an intimidating whisper, expanding his dark magnetism in an attempt to suffocate their resolve through his pretended magnificence.
"No! There has to be a damn way to stop it!" Hermione exclaimed, dragging along the will of the rest.
Ignoring the incorporeal figure of the ghost, the girls grouped around Percy's body, desperately throwing themselves into attempting to stabilize him. They knew that carrying a direct homicide on their consciences would be a destructive trauma they couldn't coexist with. Penelope stood as the most vehement in applying first aid and magical healing charms; not only because she possessed greater knowledge and experience, but because of the stinging remorse of having been the indirect trigger that dragged Percy into the abyss of possession.
Riddle merely contemplated the scene with a silent, mocking laugh. The more effort they put into preserving him, the more they would expedite the transfer of vitality. The students were sinking rapidly into despair, incapacitated from savoring their victory; the stress levels that had dropped after the battle experienced a critical spike once more.
It was during this back-and-forth of maneuvers that the girls located the bound diary among the folds of Percy's robe. Ginny identified it immediately, recognizing the similarity to what she had glimpsed at the Ministry.
"That's it! That notebook is what he uses to possess him!" Ginny deduced instantly, pointing at the object.
"Incendio!!" Pansy reacted with speed, but the flames licked the leather cover without leaving the slightest speck of soot.
"Diffindo!!"
"Reducto!!"
The students began to discharge a frantic sequence of destructive hexes upon the tome, convinced that pulverizing it could break the bond and save Percy's life. However, the book simply flew off from the impacts, landing further and further away without registering a single scratch.
"Hahaha... It's useless, you are finished. That diary is indestructible; there is no magic capable of damaging it!" Riddle mocked with marked glee.
Nonetheless, his laughter died instantly upon noticing that a silhouette was materializing with total calmness, emerging precisely from the gloom toward where the diary had rolled.
"RED!!!" the girls roared in unison, their faces lighting up with a mixture of glee and renewed hope upon recognizing me.
Without granting the slightest relevance to Riddle's theatricality or the commotion my arrival caused, I merely pulled my wand from my pocket.
"So you finally make your appearance," Tom commented, denoting a subtle increase in the tension of his features along with his harbored resentment, though forcing himself to project serenity. "Though your presence will not alter the final result. I must give you credit, you have structured quite a competent squad... But regardless of your individual faculties, you don't possess the means to thwart my return either. Heh... What's more, once I reclaim my physical entity, I consider that I will inherit the fruits of your labor and confiscate your little private army," he added, sweeping the girls with a calculating look. "A contingent of loyal, trained female warriors... A subtle reconfiguration of their minds and I would have a truly... delicious retinue..." he concluded, licking his lips in a lascivious manner in a deliberate attempt to stage a perverse threat, seeking to break my temperance and sow panic in the girls through psychological intimidation. "I extend my thanks to you in advance. I will make sure to enjoy them in your name..."