Inside the Diary

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Dateline: December 25th, 1992

"Come to throw something else at me?" Myrtle said miserably, sitting against a window.

"Why would we throw something at you?" said Harry.

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."

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

He'd 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 get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head!"

"But who threw it at you, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see them. I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell through the top of my head."

Harry and Hermione looked under the sink where they saw something peculiar. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Hermione stepped forward and picked it up.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Hermione, looking at the back of the diary. "I know that name; I've seen it in the trophy room. Said it has something to do with something 50 years ago."

"What was the trophy for?"

"Special Services to the School."

"What was the thing that Malfoy told us? The last time the Chamber was opened was-"

"50 years ago. But that means-"

"Tom Riddle was here at Hogwarts when it happened. What if he wrote about what he saw? It's possible he knew where the Chamber was, how to open it -- even what sort of creature lives in it. If so, whoever's behind these attacks, wouldn't want this diary lying around. Would they, Hermione?"

"It's a brilliant theory, Harry, but there's just one flaw: There's nothing written in this diary."

Dateline: February 14th, 1993

The mandrakes were getting secretive and moody as well, with Lockhart on his favourite day. He even made sure to have Professor Snape whip up Love Potions for that special one. However, to their dislike, Lockhart was having his card-carrying cupids barging into classes to deliver valentines throughout the entire school, to the teachers' annoyance, and that late afternoon, when the Gryffindors were walking up to their Charms class, two dwarfs caught up with Harry and Hermione.

"Not here," they hissed, trying to escape.

"Stay still!" grunted the dwarf, trying to extend his little arms to Harry's bag but missed.

They had gotten away from the dwarfs and headed to Charms without forbidden looks from other Hufflepuffs.

That evening in the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Hermione sat at a desk next to each other while analyzing the diary. Harry picked up a quill from the ink bottle and dropped a blot on the first page.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Harry loaded up the quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."

The words shone momentarily on the page, and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in the same ink Harry had written, came words he'd never written.

"Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle, and I suppose you have Hermione Granger by your side as well. Excellent. How did you come by my diary?"

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