The diary seemed to hesitate for a moment, and after several seconds, a single "?" appeared slowly on the page.
The moment the question mark emerged, a ripple of mental energy unfurled from the diary like a breeze—subtle, but unmistakable.
Moriarty felt it immediately. He activated Occlumency, effortlessly deflecting the probe of psychic power. Across from him, Mrs. Malfoy sat upright, her expression tightening. "That was Legilimency," she said warily.
Moriarty tapped the "?" with the tip of his quill. "Do you still believe this is just an ordinary cursed object?"
Mrs. Malfoy flushed slightly and averted her eyes, then changed the topic as smoothly as any pure-blood socialite. "I noticed you wrote 'Rubeus Hagrid.' Isn't he that half-giant Gryffindor?"
"Very few know that Hagrid and Tom Riddle were classmates." Moriarty's tone was coldly amused. "Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets, released the basilisk, and framed Hagrid. It got Hagrid expelled and his wand snapped."
Mrs. Malfoy listened intently as Moriarty told the tale, her pale brows twitching with each twist of injustice. "Now," Moriarty added with a smirk, "I'm letting Hagrid get a little poetic revenge."
Below the question mark, he wrote: I am Rubeus Hagrid.
Mrs. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Tom Riddle won't know whether to be furious or amused."
"Sheer psychological warfare," Moriarty replied. "Let's see how he handles it."
The diary took a few seconds before fresh ink appeared, neat and refined:
Hagrid, my friend. How have you been since you were expelled?
"There." Mrs. Malfoy pointed. "He addressed you."
Moriarty glanced at her with a lopsided grin, then bent over the diary and replied in a heavy, scribbled scrawl meant to mimic Hagrid's:
Terrible, honestly. They snapped me wand, made me leave Hogwarts. But Professor Dumbledore let me stay on as Keeper of Keys.
He paused, then continued:
Things were okay, 'til that monster who can't be named showed up! Killed Dumbledore and took Hogwarts! Whole wizardin' world's scared stiff!
Moriarty chuckled darkly as he reviewed the message. "Let's see how much this rattles him."
Tom Riddle, deep in his Horcrux consciousness, reeled.
The phrase "the monster who can't be named" clicked immediately. It had to be him. He'd always intended to cast dark enchantments over the name "Voldemort" to trigger alerts when uttered. The idea that his future self had succeeded in making the name feared—even among half-giants—filled him with glee.
He responded in the diary:
Is the monster you speak of called… Voldemort?
Moriarty affected a clumsy panic in his next scribble:
NO!!! I said don' mention his name!!
He smeared ink across the page, creating a blotchy mess, and continued in a trembled script:
You... how'd you know? You one of 'em?!
Tom Riddle laughed silently inside the diary. "Hagrid" was completely convinced. What a fool! Still just as easy to manipulate as ever. Now, Tom thought, to begin the next phase.
No, Hagrid. I'm not one of them. I hate that monster as much as you do. But I can help you. I know ways to make you stronger—old secrets, ancient magic.
Moriarty paused and turned to Mrs. Malfoy. "Tom's technique of manipulation was formidable. Even as a teenager, he was a master at appealing to others' weaknesses."
"I'm beginning to think Tom Riddle and Voldemort were two different people," Mrs. Malfoy said softly.
She shifted positions again, lounging along the sofa with her chin on her arm, pale hair cascading behind her. The shape of her hips and the elegance of her posture nearly distracted Moriarty, but he kept his composure and wrote again.
I dunno if I should trust you. Dumbledore's dead. That monster's got the school, and the Ministry. Moody's tryin' to rally folks, but it ain't workin'.
He shook the page gently, smudging the ink as if "Hagrid" had been overcome with emotion.
Tom Riddle absorbed every word with glee.
I really do become the Dark Lord. Killed Dumbledore… took Hogwarts… led the Ministry to ruin. I am glorious.
His pride and vanity inflated to new heights. But he still needed spiritual energy to emerge from the diary and fully manifest. For that, he needed "Hagrid" to trust him.
Hagrid, my friend. Let me show you something—my memory. There's knowledge in it. Power. It'll help you fight back.
Moriarty raised an eyebrow as the diary began to shift. The pages turned rapidly, flipping until they settled on June 13.
Mrs. Malfoy's eyes widened as the date glowed faintly. "That square… it looks like a Pensieve portal."
"It is," Moriarty said. "He's opening his memory."
A soft hum resonated from the paper, and the center of the diary shimmered like water. Mrs. Malfoy sat upright, eyes bright with excitement.
"I want to see it too. Can you take me in?"
She extended her pale hand toward Moriarty.
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