Ariadne's Thread ⭒ h. potter

Fang

"Use your bloody head, Ariadne!" Ron exclaimed, for what seemed to be the dozenth time. Harry had pocketed the diary before taking it back to the Common Room where they found Ron, who had very obviously been waiting for Harry by the fireplace. "How could it be Ginny's diary if it's empty? She writes in the bloody thing all the time, you've seen it yourself!"

"I suppose you're right," Ariadne conceded hesitantly, looking over the blank pages from where she sat on the arm of Harry's chair, as he skimmed through the book once more. "I don't know why– it just looks awfully like it, I guess."

"Of course it looks like it," Ron rolled his eyes. He leaned back in his armchair, however, no longer prepared to argue. "It's a black book. Not too unique, is it?"

Ariadne sighed. "You're right. I just got this feeling–"

"I know what you mean," Harry said quietly. "About the feeling, at least. But it's not Ginny's diary," he said confidently, pointing to the cover. "1942. And the inside says T.M. Riddle. But he never wrote in it." Again, Harry flipped through the pages quickly from cover to cover, searching for any more clues. Ariadne peered closer.

"Vauxhall Road," she read aloud. "Muggle-born, maybe? That's near my old school."

"T.M. Riddle?" Ron interjected, getting up to join Ariadne and Harry in looking at the book before thinking better of it. He'd been cautious of even opening the book, citing advice from his father, but Harry had not heeded his warnings. Sitting back down, Ron crossed his arms thoughtfully. "I know that name... T.M. Riddle went to Hogwarts. Got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Hey!" he cried, indignant at the look Harry and Ariadne shared. "I know things too, you know. If you'd wiped slug slime off his name for an hour, you'd remember it too."

"T.M. Riddle..." Ariadne mused. "There's got to be something in here. Dobby said that there would be a book with instructions for the Chamber, and now we've found this book on my first day back. Keep looking," she instructed imperiously. The corner of Harry's mouth curled up into a half-smile, but he complied, peeling still-damp pages apart.

"Bit convenient though, don't you think?" Ron looked dubious.

"That's what I said!" Harry claimed, and Ron's frown turned into a grin to match Harry's own. "But it's what we've got. And we do always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, so maybe things are working out for once?" Even Harry seemed to be attempting to convince himself, as if it really was so impossible that things might work out for him.

"Well," Ariadne began. "I think we all know what our next step is." She looked at Harry and Ron expectantly, and after a beat, the three spoke in unison.

"Wait for Hermione."

And wait they did. Ariadne and Harry found the diary on the 3rd of January, and Hermione didn't return from the library until February 1st. Though they visited her every day during that month, Harry feared taking the diary out of the dormitory, particularly when they weren't certain what it could do. In the meantime, although Ariadne had not yet seen Ginny writing in her diary, that didn't mean much considering Ginny had resumed avoiding Ariadne like the plague. Considering the diary was from 1942 anyway, it could hardly be Ginny's.

When Harry did present Hermione the diary, she was confident that the diary was the key to the Chamber, opting to ignore Ron's dramatic eye rolls.

"Absolutely brilliant theory, guys," Ron said, sarcasm evident. "Tiny flaw though– the diary's empty. He got a diary for Christmas and didn't bother filling it in. Don't blame him. Not very manly, is it? A diary?"

Now, it was Hermione who rolled her eyes, and when she dragged the three of them over to the trophy room for further investigation, it seemed more for the sake of punishing Ron than anything else. Though Riddle's trophy held no details of why it had been rewarded, they did find his name in a list of old Head Boys and Girls.