Ancient Magician (Severus x Reader)

Chapter 38: Tom's Diary

╔⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤╗

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 38: 𝑊𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦

"𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜"

╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝

As we settled into our dorm rooms for the night, bidding Ron and Harry goodnight, I couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude towards them for their unwavering support and belief in me. Hermione, beside me, was finally succumbing to exhaustion after hours of relentless research, her face buried in a heap of books and newspapers. I smiled softly at her dedication before my attention was drawn to the mysterious diary we had stumbled upon earlier.

As I glanced at its weathered cover, a strange sensation washed over me, almost as if the diary was beckoning me to open it. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, I approached the table where it lay, taking a deep breath before daring to lift its cover. What I found inside was nothing short of astonishing.

Letters began to materialize on the pages, forming words in an elegant script that seemed to dance before my eyes. "Hi Mom," they read

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, I barely registered as more words began to form on the page. "Don't get me wrong, Mom, I just wanna talk to you." they continued, their tone strangely familiar and comforting. It was as if the book itself was reaching out to me, seeking connection and understanding. With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, I leaned in closer, eager to unravel the mysteries that lay within its pages.

I frowned. My lips parted, but no sound came out. The words—Mom—they struck something odd and unexplainable deep inside me. There was something about the way it was written—familiar. Too familiar.

I leaned in, my hand moving instinctively to pick up the quill resting nearby.

"What is this?" I muttered, heart beginning to pound. I dipped the quill in ink, my hand trembling slightly.

"Are you Tom? Tom Riddle?"

The answer came back almost instantly, fast and sure.

"I am."

My breath caught. I froze.

No. No way. A voice in the back of my mind screamed: You're talking to Voldemort. You're talking to Voldemort. Back away. Now.

But I didn't.

Something about the way he answered... it wasn't cold. It wasn't like the monster we'd read about. It felt... strange. Familiar.

I swallowed, fingers tightening around the quill.

"Do you... do you know me?" I asked. I didn't even know why I was asking. I didn't want to hear the answer. And yet...

A long pause.

Then:

"Yes. I know you."

I leaned closer, eyes narrowing.

"How could you possibly know me?" I whispered.

I didn't even bother writing that down. But the diary must've known. Or heard. Or maybe it didn't need me to write everything—I wasn't sure anymore.

Another line appeared.

"I missed you."

My spine straightened. My mouth went dry.

"I don't... understand," I whispered to no one. But the diary kept going.

I dipped the quill again and wrote, hand trembling: