HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

second year ➤50 years ago

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter forty nine-50 years ago
[Harry's P.O.V]
☟ ☟ ☟

Ron and I have been trying to figure out the meaning behind the diary for hours not. Eventually though, he calls it quits for the night and heads up to bed but I stay awake. This is because I know that there'll be no way I fall asleep until I get some answers.

I'm so focused on the book, staring at it as if that'll do anything, that I'm startled by a noise at the top of the stairs leading to one of the dormitories and I jump.

My breathing calms down when I see (y/n) making her way down into the common room. "Sorry," she apologizes. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's ok," I reply running a hand through my hair in stress. "How'd you manage to escape Hermione?"

"I just waited it out, she was bound to fall asleep at some point," (y/n) shrugs joining me on the couch and examining the book on the table. "Any progress on the book?"

"None," I answer exasperated.

She reaches for the book and studies the cover, tracing the spine. "Tom Marvell Riddle?" She questions, tracing the lettering on the front of the book. "Who's that?"

I shrug. "No clue," (y/n) nods but stares off into the distance, he face scrunched up in concentration, like she's trying hard to think. "Are you ok?"

She nods slowly. "I know that name from somewhere, it's weird though. It's on the tip of my tongue, but not quite. It's like it's been erased from my brain or something."

She thinks for a few moments more before opening the book to an empty page, grabbing a quill and opening an ink jar.

"I thought you were kidding when you suggested writing in it," I tease.

She gives me a look. "Well, now I think it's the only way to get answers," she takes a quill, dips it into the ink and hovers it over the paper. A small blot drips onto the page before it almost immediately fades away. She drops the quill and jumps back. "Am I really tired or did-"

"The ink completely disappear?" I cut her off. "I saw it too."

She dips the quill intro he ink a second time and begins writing, a concentrated look on her face. "There," she says admiring her work.

She's written, in nice neat printing, 'My name is (y/n) (l/n)'. The writing disappears just as it had done so a moment ago but this time, new writing appears.

'Hello (y/n) (l/n), my name is Tom Riddle.'

(y/n) jumps up and shakes her wrists anxiously. "I don't like this," she admits. "How is that book responding to us?"