Two days earlier, in the Slytherin common room, lit by the greenish glow filtering through the Black Lake, Draco Malfoy sat with a black diary resting on his lap.
Elegant, slanted handwriting appeared across the page:
"Tell me about the wizarding world. I have shared with you the secrets of the Chamber of Secrets; in return, you should update me on what has changed. I have been… absent for many years."
A pause, then more words:
"Knowing what happened afterward will allow me to guide you better."
Draco rubbed his slightly sore hand before replying:
"Forgive me, sir. If I begin from when you left Hogwarts, it would take days to explain everything."
The ink shifted again:
"Then tell me this: who is the current Headmaster? Is it still Phineas Nigellus Black?"
Draco grimaced as he wrote:
"No. The Headmaster is Albus Dumbledore. He allows Muggle-borns to study here without restriction. My father says Hogwarts can never return to its former glory under his leadership."
The response came quickly:
"I trust your father's judgment. And what sort of wizard is this Dumbledore?"
Draco answered:
"He defeated a dark wizard named Gellert Grindelwald. Many call him the greatest wizard of our age."
There was a brief silence before the ink reappeared, firmer now:
"Besides Grindelwald, has he faced other powerful enemies?"
Draco hesitated, then wrote:
"Yes… There was You-Know-Who."
The diary replied:
"And who is that?"
Draco felt a chill as he wrote the name:
"Lord Voldemort. Most people don't dare say it."
"Why?"
"Fear," Draco wrote. Then added, "And respect. He believed pure-bloods should hold their rightful place."
The handwriting seemed almost invigorated.
"A sensible idea. And where is he now?"
Draco took longer to answer.
"He disappeared ten years ago. When he tried to kill Harry Potter—who was only a baby—something happened. The curse rebounded. No one has seen him since."
The diary remained blank for several long seconds.
Then jagged writing appeared:
"Impossible. A great wizard defeated by a child?"
Draco frowned.
"That's what people say. Perhaps Dumbledore was involved. Or some unknown protection."
Eventually, the script returned to normal.
"Very well. Who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Professor Quirinus Quirrell," Draco replied. "He is… weak."
The diary answered firmly:
"Bring me to your next lesson. I can help you compensate for his inadequacies. With proper guidance, you will surpass your rivals far more quickly."
A gleam of excitement lit Draco's eyes.
The next morning, Draco took the diary to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
The moment he opened it discreetly beneath the desk, words appeared:
"Put me away."
He obeyed at once.
At the front of the classroom, Professor Quirrell stammered as he explained the defensive properties of reptile blood. Draco did not notice the silent turmoil stirring within the diary at the sound of the professor's voice.
After class, Draco hurried back to the Slytherin common room.
Opening the diary again, he wrote:
"Why did you tell me to hide you?"
The answer appeared:
"Even in your pocket, I could hear his trembling voice. A man like that is unfit to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."
The writing did not fade. A new line formed beneath it:
"My descendant… I require a small amount of power."
Draco leaned closer.
"What kind of power?"
"Just enough to manifest myself more clearly. That way, I can guide you better."
Draco's heart quickened.
"Can I help?"
"Not you," the diary replied, its script unexpectedly gentle. "You are far too precious to me."
Draco's eyes shone.
Then the diary added:
"You mentioned two loyal companions — Crabbe and Goyle. They are sturdy boys. If they hold the diary for a time, I may borrow a little of their strength."
Draco hesitated only briefly before calling them over.
Without suspicion, Crabbe and Goyle each took hold of one side of the diary.
For a fleeting second, faint golden letters shimmered across the cover — T. M. Riddle — before vanishing as though they had never been there.
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