adored by him | *under editing*

second year × 27

Weeks had passed and the quartet were still no closer to uncovering the truth which they believed the diary held. Nacreous moonlight flooded into the Hospital Wing, highlighting the bed where which they circled as Hermione studied it, eyes narrowed with concentration. "Tom Riddle? And Ron, you said that he won an award fifty years ago?"

Ron nodded. "Special Services to the school or something."

"Fifty years ago? You're sure?" He nodded again, eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you thinking, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Don't you remember what Malfoy said to you? 'The Chamber was last opened fifty years ago' which means that Tom Riddle was here, at Hogwarts, when it happened. What if he wrote down what he saw? It's possible that he knew where the Chamber was, how to open it and even the creature that lives inside it! If so, whoever's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want this lying around, would they?" She concluded excitedly.

Nadia sighed. "That's a brilliant theory but there's just one slight flaw; the diary is empty."

"It might be invisible ink!" Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at the wordless pages and recited, "Aparecium." Her shoulders deflated when nothing happened and, with a frown, she passed the diary back to Harry. 

Ron eyed it warily. "I dunno, Harry. It could be dangerous."

Harry then dropped his head. "You're not scared of me, are you? Any of you?"

Nadia's heart plummeted at the boy as she placed her hand atop of his, making his stomach perform somersaults. "I'm scared, Harry. But not of you."

***

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, his head swarmed with unanswered questions as he flipped through the empty diary. Spontaneously, he took a quill and dipped it in ink, hovering it over the page as he pondered what do write. Whilst doing so, a drop of ink plopped onto the parchment but, instead of resting there, it disappeared. Harry blinked incredulously. He then dipped the quill again and scratched the words: My name is Harry Potter. He blinked again as his statement vanished and a reply slowly oozed out of the page.

Hello, Harry Potter, My name is Tom Riddle.

Harry's heart raced. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?

Yes.

Can you tell me?

No. Harry slammed down the quill in frustration, clicking his tongue until more words appeared. But I can show you. Let me take you back fifty years ago. All of a sudden, the pages fluttered until landing one one dated 13th June. Then, bright light and strong jets of air sucked Harry towards the diary and, in a whirl of colour and shadow, he stumbled onto his feet.

Harry's eyes darted about his surroundings. He seemed to be in a Hogwarts corridor but it was dull and grey. Only he still had colour. Slightly disoriented, Harry moved carefully and quietly until coming across a rather charming boy stood at the bottom of a staircase, his monotonous eyes flocked with worry.

Harry approached him with caution. "Excuse me? Could you tell me what's going on here?" His mind clicked. "Are you Tom Riddle? Hello, can you hear me?" Tom gave no response, as though Harry wasn't even there. Then, Harry watched as a group of elder witches and wizards transported a stretcher, carrying what looked to be a body, right past him.

"Riddle." Harry wheeled at the familiar voice. "Come."

"Professor Dumbledore." Tom greeted curtly and moved to join him on the staircase.

"Dumbledore?" Harry whispered cynically, following close behind.

"It is not wise to be wondering around this late hour, Tom."

"Yes, Professor." Tom bowed his head. "I-I suppose I had to see for myself if the rumors were true."

"I'm afraid they are, Tom. They are true."

"About the school as well? I don't have a home to go to. They wouldn't really close Hogwarts, would they, Professor?" There was desperation in his voice, something Harry identified greatly with.

Dumbledore frowned. "I understand, Tom, but I'm afraid Headmaster Dippet may have no choice."

"Sir, if it all stopped. If the person responsible was caught?" Tom's eyes turned dark which seemed to unsettle Dumbledore as he stared at him suspiciously.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"No, sir. Nothing." He answered coolly. Dumbledore studied him for a minute, as though not fully believing him, however nodded with a soft smile.

"Very well then. Off you go."

"Goodnight, sir." Tom said, brushing past him as he ascended the steps, Harry in tow. Tom hesitated when he reached his common room before turning and gliding swiftly along a dark corridor, stopping and drawing his wand as he came to a door. He eyed the empty corridor then opened the door, aiming his wand at the unnaturally tall boy stood inside. "Evening, Hagrid." He approached carefully. "I'm going to have to turn you in, Hagrid. I don't think you meant it to kill anyone."

"Yeh can't! Yeh don't understand!" The younger Hagrid protested weakly as Tom inched closer.

"The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered."

"It wasn't him! Aragog never killed no one. Never!"

"Monsters don't make good pets, Hagrid." Tom tutted. "Now stand aside."

Hagrid was shaking. "No."

"Stand aside, Hagrid!"

"No!"

"Cistem Aperio!" With one wave of his wand, Tom blasted the lid off the box and, in a flash of light, a low-slung creature appeared in a tangle of black legs and raced out of the small room into the shadows. "Arania Exumai!" Tom bellowed, narrowly missing the black mass.

Hagrid tried to go after the creature. "Aragog! Aragog!" However, in a split second, Tom's wand was at his neck.

"I can't let you go. They'll have your wand for this, Hagrid. You'll be expelled."

"Hagrid!" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Hagrid!" All of a sudden, Harry felt himself being pulled back through the diary, his surroundings swirling madly around him until he landed roughly on the chair he head previously been sat on. "Whoa." Next thing he knew, his legs were dashing from the common room and up the steps to his dormitory where Ron lay peacefully.

He shook him by the shoulders, desperate to pull him out of his slumber. Ron slowly began to stir, glaring at Harry. "What? What do you want?"

"It was Hagrid." Harry panted. Ron's eyes widened. "It was Hagrid who opened the Chamber fifty years ago."