hp, mirrorball

- chapter 25. diary of a teenage boy

❀ 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊. 𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖆
𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖞 ❀
🌙

    ESME sat at a desk in the common room with the black diary in front of her, leather bound. She had flicked through the pages of the overly normal journal. It was un-stained by Rose, but she didn't understand why Rose had it in the first place. It wasn't like her own journal, it was odd, she knew it was.

She was sat, leaning back in the chair, alone in the common room and picked up a quill, intending to write. But the first drop she put onto the page absorbed in the book, until it wasn't seen anymore. Even checking through the pages, it had completely disappeared.

Maybe, it was going somewhere.

I ... am ... Esme Coax. She wrote and watched it fade away.

Soon, the page was marked with writing that faded on, and it wasn't hers.

Hello Esme Coax, my name is Tom Riddle.

Esme paused briefly, she'd never seen magic like this, she wrote: this is strange.

Yes, it is.

Can I ask you something? she wrote and waited for the ink to fade.

Of course.

Esme didn't waste time in asking: Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?

Yes. That simple word made her heart jump, maybe she could do this, and then prove she wasn't just a school girl.

Can you tell me? She asked, waiting for a response.

No he told her but I can show you.

She didn't even realise she had been transported into the very pages of the diary until she felt herself and found herself in a Hogwarts corridor, but clearly not her time of Hogwarts. The hallways were pale, the fire barely giving any tone of light as she walked along and up the stairs, looking to the top where a boy stood, looking up.

    "Um, hello?" Esme asked, slowly advancing up on the stairs. The boy made no effort in turning to her, or any signs he heard "Hello?" she tried again, waving her hand in front of him. Esme knew he couldn't see or hear, and guessed this was the boy "You don't happen to be Tom Riddle do you?" she asked, herself mainly.

Tom was looking up and watching the Professors who now, carried the stretcher in which the young muggle-girl now lied on, dead after the attack. The very thought of Hermione dying was enough to freeze Esme in her spot and speed up her heart rate till it was breaking against her chest.

    "Riddle!" they heard his name be called and together they looked up to see a younger Albus Dumbledore standing at the top. The very boy he was after walked up to him as Esme peered at the Professor, hardly believing it was him. His hair wasn't silver but brown and his beard wasn't as long as it is now, furthermore his robes had been exchanged for suits "It is not wise to be wandering around this late hour, Tom." He warned the young boy.

    "Yes, professor. I suppose I-I had to see for myself if the rumours were true." Tom Riddle held his hands behind his back and kept his posture.

    "I'm afraid they are, Tom. They are true." Dumbledore's sighed, the lines on his forehead just adapting.

    "About the school as well? I don't have a home to go to. They wouldn't really close Hogwarts, would they, professor?" Tom was worried his only home was closing and hearing he didn't have a home, made Esme wonder just who this guy was, Ron mentioned something about him getting a school award but that wasn't necessity strange.