Tʜᴇ Dᴀʀᴋ Lᴏʀᴅ's Aɴɢᴇʟ | Tom Riddle √

38: Midnight Transformation

In the heart of the night, Cassiopeia awoke with Tom's diary on her mind. She sat up in her bed, noticing that Pansy was deep in slumber. The moonlight filtered into the room, indicating that midnight had passed.

Silently, Cassiopeia slipped out of bed and crouched down to retrieve the wooden box she had transfigured into a stone, hidden beneath her bed to avoid detection.

Carefully, she placed the stone on her table, examining its familiar brown hue. Her wand was in her grasp, and she pointed it at the object.

"Reparifarge!" she whispered, taking care not to disturb Pansy. The white light from her wand enveloped the stone, transforming it back into the box it originally was. She glanced over at Pansy to ensure her friend remained asleep, and indeed, she did.

Cassiopeia opened the box and removed Tom's diary, which she had stored inside. She knew that this diary should eventually be given to Dumbledore, but her curiosity lingered. Could it be healed? Could the Horcrux be restored to its original state, with the soul intact?

Opening the locked compartment, she retrieved a blank book she hadn't yet used and placed both Tom's diary and the book on the table. She felt nervous, doubting her Transfiguration skills. Potions were her strong suit, not Transfiguration.

Taking a deep breath, she pointed her wand at the book, softly uttering the spell she had learned in her dreams. She closed her eyes immediately after casting, fearful of what she might see when she opened them. What if it had turned into an animal or a stone? A toad, perhaps?

With trepidation, she opened one eye and found no sign of a living creature, no animal had appeared. She opened both eyes to see that the book had transformed into a diary, identical to Tom's, complete with the same damage in the middle.

Cassiopeia couldn't help but rejoice at her successful attempt, her excitement making her want to shout with joy. She had to quickly stifle the sound emerging from her mouth.

She placed the fabricated diary in the locked compartment, keeping Tom's genuine diary on the table. Cassiopeia sank into a chair, feeling the strain in her legs from standing the entire time.

Opening the last locked compartment, the one she always kept secured, she retrieved her personal diary and, more recently, the bottle of Fawkes's tears that Dumbledore had given her.

She knew that phoenix tears were renowned for their healing properties, capable of curing even the deadliest poisons, such as Basilisk venom. Cassiopeia carefully applied three drops to the damaged area on Tom's diary, hoping for a positive outcome. Her eyes remained fixed on the diary's cover.

After a few moments, the damage on the diary slowly began to repair itself. Yet, Cassiopeia's curiosity lingered; was the soul still intact? She opened the diary, noticing the dried, dark liquid on its pages. For a few more seconds, she stared at it before applying another three drops to the dried liquid covering the pages.

Within moments, the dark liquid began to vanish, and Cassiopeia's eyes widened with amazement. The diary now appeared completely restored, devoid of any damage.

Cassiopeia contemplated her next step, fully aware of the dangers it entailed. She desperately yearned to meet the boy, Tom, or at least access sixteen years' worth of his memories. She knew it was unlikely that she would encounter the master soul, but she remained determined to try.

With a trembling hand, she dipped her quill into the bottle of ink and turned to the first page. It was the only way she could ascertain if the soul remained alive. Cassiopeia assumed it was a fifty-fifty probability, but she needed to try.

She wrote: "Hello, I'm Cassiopeia Black."

She observed the page intently, waiting for a response, just as Harry had described happening two years prior. Yet, nothing appeared. It seemed that her attempt had been in vain. Cassiopeia let out a heavy breath and rested her elbows on the table, covering her face.

"Everything won't happen as you think," she thought to herself.

As she removed her hands from her face, intending to forget the endeavor and return the diary to its previous appearance, something remarkable occurred. The words she had written vanished, replaced by something entirely different. Her lips trembled, and perspiration dotted her skin.

"Hello, Cassiopeia Black. I'm Tom Riddle," the new message read.

Cassiopeia's heart raced with exhilaration, and she dipped her quill into the ink with trembling hands to respond: "Hi, Tom Riddle."

She paused, considering her next words. She was aware that the emotions Tom had left behind in the diary were not benevolent, but she needed answers, information. This needed to be a straightforward conversation. She wished to know what Tom Riddle thought of Cassiopeia Lestrange. She began to type, "I'm curious what it feels like to be alive after two years. I mean, two years ago, Harry destroyed this."

Her words disappeared and were replaced by a new message: "—I think you are the Cassie who Ginny Weasley was talking about."

Cassiopeia was puzzled. What had Ginny told Tom about her? She wrote back: What did she tell?

"Harry was really interested in a Slytherin girl, and she was worried."

She was taken aback by the response. Could it be true that Ginny had talked about her back then? Cassiopeia hadn't realized her presence had made such an impression. She wrote, "—Maybe. I think you also knew someone who called, Cassiopeia Lestrange. Isn't it, Thomas?"

The message she received in return raised her eyebrows: "—How do you know? Who are you?"

Cassiopeia bit her lip, considering her reply carefully. After a sigh, she wrote, "I'm curious to know whether I can meet you. So, you will definitely know who I am."

His response was quick: "—why not, you can meet me. I'm curious to know who you are and how you know about her."

With her heart racing, Cassiopeia continued the conversation: "Where would you like to meet? The Chamber of Secrets?"

She waited with bated breath, her throat dry. The reply came: "You cannot open it. You need to speak in Parseltongue, Cassiopeia Black."

Cassiopeia knew he was right; she couldn't open the Chamber of Secrets. But she decided to take a chance: "Let's say I know how to open it. Would you mind if I come to meet you tonight, after curfew?"

She gulped down her anxiety, her heart pounding in her chest. The response was quick and filled her with a mixture of anticipation and fear: "I'm waiting."

She couldn't believe it; she would meet him. As the conversation concluded with her message, "Have a good day, Tom. See you!" the diary's pages went blank, and her words disappeared. Cassiopeia closed the diary, placed it in the wooden box, and transfigured it into a stone.

She arranged everything meticulously and thensettled into her bed, pondering what awaited her that night.