꧁☬☬꧂

His diary. . . I think I've recognised this before; he would carry this book with him all the time when I'm in his world.

"Tom. . ."

Kayden glanced at me and clenched my shoulder "you know him?" she asked, I felt her grasp tighten.

Should I lie?

"Do not lie to me."

Her gaze is so intense that I felt like kneeling; I felt like a is looking down on me. I felt this feeling before, back in the first year when I would sneak out with Harry, Ron and Hermione to check on Fluffy.

"You're the kid. . . The kid who was all bloody that night back in the hallway, yo–you even know that we were the–there." I swallowed my saliva.

She raised her eyebrows and squinted her eyes "what are you talking about?" she said.

"You don't have to pretend but why are you always all bloody that time—"

But then Kayden placed her hand over my mouth and dragged me to one of the stalls, our bodies are close to each other.

"I am telling you! It's either Y/N or Knight or Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin."

We heard foots step and the voice. . . Hermione.

Kayden got near to my face "Seems like your dear friend of yours doesn't believe that you're not the heir of the Slytherin." Kayden whispered to my ears.

That's is true. . . She doesn't believe me. . . She thinks it's us. . . She thinks it's me.

"Hermione, I reckoned you're friends with Y/N and admire Knight? Then why do you doubt that it's them? I say it's okay if you assume the heir is Malfoy but why those two."

We heard Ron's voice; there was a hole in the stall. A spot where we can peek.

"What's up, Myrtle?" Said, Harry.

"Myrtle is here—"

"—I got it."

Our body became clear; our body was gone as if we have Harry's invisible cloak.

"Who's that?" we heard Myrtle glugged miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw the book at me..."

Book?

Tom's book?

But then I realised I dropped the book.

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha. Ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know... I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there; it got washed out..."

Harry and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing "it's not here?"

"It's over here, Harry." A small, thin book lay on the ground under the stall. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Harry.

"Are you crazy?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised," said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated Dad's told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And--"

"All right, I've got the point," said Harry.

The little book lay on the floor, bland and soggy.

I was about to pick up the book, but Kayden grabbed my hands and placed it on top of my head "don't take it." she whispered.

We went back on checking on them.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor.

Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page, he could just make out the name "T M. Riddle" in smudged ink.

"Hang on," said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name... T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

Did he just said. . . Fifty. . . Year's. . . Ago?

Does that mean. . . I went to Hogwarts on my sleep fifty years ago!?

That means he's old!!

"How on earth did you know that?" Said Hermione in amazement.

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too." Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank.

"He never wrote in it," said Harry, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" Said Ron curiously.

Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.

"He must've been Muggle-born," said Harry thoughtfully. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road..."

No. . .

"Y/N? Why do you even need this?" asked Hermione as we four, her parents and we go through London.

"I just. . . I want to give it to someone." I smiled.

"Alright, we are here." we got out from the muggle car and went inside the shop.

I went through the books and grabbed some and some muggle supply.

But then some of got my attention, a black book. I grabbed it and went to the counter.

"Hello, a pleasure to meet you. May I ask if you may have a framed a name this book? I will purchase the book, do not worry."

The lady looked at me and smiled "sure sweetheart, who is this for? And what is the name you want me to put?" she took the book and grabbed a pen.

"T. M Riddle, he's a friend of mine." I looked down and blush.

"Is that friend of yours you fancy?" she teased.

I looked up to her and shook my head "of course not! He's just a frie-friend." I covered my face with my hand.

She chuckled "whatever you say, sweetheart. And here it is. Also, let me get those book and check it out."

She gave me a paper bag with my supplies inside it "that would be twenty-eight pounds." I gave her the money and went to the Granger family.

That's the book I gave him.

"I need to get it." I tried to get away from her grip; she shook her head "next time."

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose."

➱➱➱➱

꧁☬⋆⋆☬꧂

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs Norris back in no time."

Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years...

Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Y/N, Harry and Kayden was the guilty one, that they had "given themselves away" at the Dueling Club. Peeves weren't helping matters; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Y/N, Knight, Potter, you rotter..." now with a dance routine to match.

Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he had made the attacks stop. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration. "I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking.

"I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

"Oh yeah? Try me." Everyone turned their head at the back row of the class.

Kayden and Y/N standing next to each other, arm crossed, not entertained at all.

"I–I–I don't th–think it would be ap–appropriate to do it."

"Weak," Y/N smirked.

"That's nothing new." Kayden tilts her head.

"I–"

"Leave," Y/N said as she gave him a glare that made the tension in the class heavy.

"Of–of course!" He runs out of the class.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" Harry asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off his bacon.

Ron pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the fourty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"Those fourty-six people are just you!" Y/N yelled.

Kayden choked the medicine she was drinking and started coughing.

Benjamin and Henry started laughing while Easton facepalms himself "these idiots."

"Any-anyway. My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six, " said Ron as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.

But then hundreds of dwarfs barge in the great hall, as they were carrying vast bags full of love letters.

"Oi! Y/N Dumbledore! Here." they handed the letters to Y/N as the letter flooded the table.

"Kayden Knight, Henry Grey, Benjamin Parker and Easton Hamilton! Here!" They handed them their tons of love letters.

⇜⇜⇜⇜

"Oi Y/N Dumbledore!" The five Slytherin turn around and found another dwarf with their huge bags.

"Again? Bilmey Y/N. I think that's like the whole school by now or some of them are just writing you more letters." Easton sighed as he adjusted his glasses.

"And these are for you four." the dwarf handed the other four Slytherin letters as well.

"Look who's talking, you four are also popular, I didn't even get a single letter-" Ron crossed his arms as he and Harry and Hermione walked by.

"Hey! Are you Ron Weasley?" Another dwarf appears.

"Ye-yes?"

"Here." the dwarf handed him his letter.

"A love letter? I got a love letter?" Ron stared at his letter.

"Harry Potter." the dwarf gave him also his letter.

"Thanks."

"We got love letters?" Harry and Ron stared at each other.

"But from who?" Ron asked.

"From me." Y/N smiles.