Tʜᴇ Dᴀʀᴋ Lᴏʀᴅ's Aɴɢᴇʟ | Tom Riddle √

34: The Tattered Diary

Cassiopeia Black entered Professor Dumbledore's office with a polite nod of acknowledgment to the warm smile he offered.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Cassiopeia," the headmaster greeted her.

"Thank you, Professor," Cassiopeia replied with equal warmth. "Draco told me that you visited me when I was unconscious. Thank you for the gift too."

"It's my pleasure, Cassiopeia," Dumbledore said, sitting in his chair. "Anything new you saw in your dreams?"

Cassiopeia hesitated briefly, then decided to share her troubling vision. "Actually, Professor, I saw how I was killed," she admitted, her expression pensive. "It was terrible, and afterwards, I had no dreams."

Dumbledore leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "Who?" he inquired with a hint of concern.

"Malfoy, Abraxas Malfoy," Cassiopeia said with a heavy sigh, approaching the headmaster. "Honestly, Professor, I have something to ask you, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Cassiopeia. Go on," Dumbledore encouraged, his brows knitted in readiness.

Cassiopeia continued, her voice filled with kindness and gentleness. "Professor, I am just curious about Tom Riddle's Diary. Harry mentioned that it bled when destroyed and that it's with you. Can I see it?"

Without hesitation, Dumbledore opened a locker on his desk and retrieved the diary, placing it before Cassiopeia. She stared at the damaged diary, the very one she had seen in her dreams. It was the vessel of Tom Riddle's splintered soul, a dark and unsettling relic.

Dumbledore watched her closely, waiting for her response. "Do you know anything about it, Cassiopeia?" he inquired. "I sense a trace of dark magic within, but I am still searching for clues."

Cassiopeia carefully picked up the diary, her fingers tracing the damage on its cover. She met Dumbledore's gaze and replied, "Honestly, I have no idea, sir. I've seen him carry this diary wherever he went. He never allowed anyone to touch it except for me. There were some potion notes written in it."

Her words held a truth that she had to veil, and Dumbledore appeared to sense her reticence.

"I have never discussed this with anyone except for you," Cassiopeia continued, "and I believe that Tom was in love with you, which is quite odd."

"Odd?"

Dumbledore elaborated, "Odd, indeed. He was conceived under the influence of a love potion, so it is rare for him to experience love for anyone. But there you were, and he seemed to have genuine affection for you. I initially suspected that he might have had ulterior motives involving you in his dark plans."

Cassiopeia's brows furrowed at this revelation. "But he wasn't?" she asked, seeking further clarification.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, he wasn't. In your presence, his dark side appeared to be controlled. That's why I refrained from interfering. I believed that you could potentially prevent him from taking a darker path. However, after you were found dead in the Forbidden Forest, I wondered how you had ventured there past curfew."

Cassiopeia leaned in to provide additional context. "Actually, Professor, I wasn't killed there, but rather near the Slytherin Common Room. The Malfoy family had proposed my marriage to Abraxas, which my parents had agreed to. I refused the arrangement, which seemed to enrage him, leading him to curse me."

Dumbledore listened attentively, absorbing the details of Cassiopeia's account. He posed a final question, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the puzzle. "What were you doing outside of the Common Room at that time, Cassiopeia?"

Cassiopeia's heart raced as she concealed the truth about the Chamber of Secrets. "I was arguing with Tom about the marriage," she replied quietly. "It was a matter of trust. The argument only ended when the curfew bell rang. Afterward, I left him, and that's when I was accosted by Abraxas."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, tapping his index finger to his chin as he delved into his own thoughts, leaving some of the deepest secrets unspoken.

Cassiopeia couldn't shake the memory that had resurfaced during her conversation with Dumbledore. It was something that had occurred during the holidays and involved her contact with Harry Potter's scar.

"Professor, I experienced something peculiar during the holidays," Cassiopeia began, and her voice startled Dumbledore from his thoughts. He turned his attention to her, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Harry came to me. He knew I have a healing ability since I had unknowingly healed his scratches last year. So, he asked me to heal his scar left by Voldemort. When I touched it, I saw something."

Dumbledore leaned in, his interest piqued. "Saw what, Cassiopeia?" he inquired.

"I saw Tom Riddle, finding my lifeless body in the forest," Cassiopeia explained. "Why is that, Professor? Isn't it odd?"

"Perhaps it's because Harry's mind is connected to Voldemort. Last time, he had dreams that were more of Voldemort's thoughts than typical dreams," Dumbledore reasoned with a deep sigh. "Maybe you experienced something similar, but it's likely a very old memory."

Cassiopeia nodded silently as she absorbed his words.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore added, causing Cassiopeia's eyes to widen, "he still retains a memory of you."

The revelation caught Cassiopeia off guard. "Wah—what?" she stammered. The idea that Voldemort could still remember her after all the darkness he had become was unexpected.

"Let's be honest, Cassiopeia," Professor Dumbledore said, standing up and walking over to her. He stood by her side, and she looked up to meet his inquisitive gaze. "Do you still have feelings for Tom Riddle?"

Cassiopeia blinked, taken aback by the question. She hesitated before responding, "Huh? I—I—uhm."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then met Dumbledore's concerned expression. "I know you're young, and it's natural to have these kinds of feelings. But I'm curious about your emotions toward Tom Riddle. Even though you've never met him in person, you've seen him every day in your dreams. Am I correct?"

Cassiopeia admitted, "Yes, Professor. But when it comes to feelings, it's foreign to me." She chuckled and looked down, contemplating her response. She knew she had to be cautious with her words. "Let's say I just have a soft spot for a lost soul. I know he's not the same person, Professor. I can move on from him easily."

Dumbledore patted her head with a worried expression. He returned to his chair, and Cassiopeia's eyes darted to the tattered diary. She wrestled with the decision of whether to ask Dumbledore for it. If he refused, she was prepared to find another way to obtain it, even though it could arouse suspicion if it vanished from his possession.

Cassiopeia finally summoned the courage to ask, "Professor, would you mind if I borrowed this diary?" She gulped, her eyes locked on Dumbledore. "I'll return it, I promise."

Dumbledore furrowed his brows, attempting to discern her motives. Her expression remained innocent, and she contemplated the idea that she could make a convincing Muggle actress. She might be playing a role, but the truth was known only to Kreacher.

After a moment, Dumbledore nodded, gesturing for her to take the diary. Cassiopeia felt a smug sense of satisfaction as she offered him a grateful smile.

"You are dismissed, Cassiopeia," Dumbledore said, "I hope to see you again. If you have any more peculiar dreams, do not hesitate to come to me. I will help you."

"Thank you, Professor. Good night,"Cassiopeia nodded and left his office, heading to join her three friends whowere waiting for her in the Common Room. She had finally obtained what sheneeded.