Draco Malfoy waited anxiously in the Slytherin common room, the diary resting on the table before him. He had no idea how his "ancestor" intended to gain power.
"I'm hungry," Goyle muttered, rubbing his stomach.
"Me too," Crabbe agreed. "But we just had dinner…"
Draco rolled his eyes — then a thought struck him.
Hungry?
Could it be that the diary had already begun draining something from them?
"Very well," Draco said coolly. "Give me the diary. Go find something to eat."
"Yes, boss."
They handed it over and shuffled out, arguing about who was blocking the doorway.
As soon as their heavy footsteps faded down the stone corridor, Draco opened the diary eagerly and wrote:
"Did it work? Is it enough?"
Golden letters appeared, clearer than ever:
"Very good, my descendant. Step aside."
Draco obeyed.
The diary began to glow — faintly at first, then with blinding intensity.
When the light faded, someone stood before him.
A young woman with long black wavy hair, deathly pale skin, and delicate features. Her eyes shone deep red, like polished rubies in the greenish light.
Draco froze.
"A-Ancestor?"
She tilted her head slightly and smiled — beautiful, but cold.
"It would be wiser to adopt another form," she said softly. "Certain names might attract suspicion. Especially with Albus Dumbledore still at Hogwarts."
"What… what should I call you?"
She ran a hand through her hair.
"You may call me Merope."
With a graceful gesture, the golden lettering on the diary shifted to read: Draco Malfoy.
"This diary now answers to you," she said. "And you deserve a reward."
She touched Draco's forehead.
A surge of energy rushed through him. His fatigue vanished. His mind sharpened. His body felt lighter, stronger.
"Take your wand," she murmured.
He obeyed.
"Firm movement. Horizontal strike. Visualize your opponent thrown backward. Stupefy."
"Stupefy!"
A red jet burst from Draco's wand, shattering the chair before him into splinters.
He stared in disbelief.
"That… was me?"
"Obedient children are rewarded," Merope said gently. "I borrowed a small portion of your friends' energy. A fraction has been granted to you. Your improvement is evident."
Hope ignited within him.
She leaned close, whispering:
"Perhaps you might introduce me to other Slytherins."
"Others?"
"I can answer questions. Teach spells. Offer guidance. In exchange, each will provide a small portion of energy. Enough to sustain me."
Her red eyes gleamed.
"You will, of course, be rewarded. And those you bring will become loyal to you."
Draco hesitated only briefly.
"I'll do it."
"Excellent. Once I regain sufficient strength… we may open the Chamber of Secrets again."
His heart pounded.
"I'll start at once!"
He rushed from the dormitory.
Left alone, Merope's smile slowly faded.
The power she had granted him was temporary.
Within her mind echoed a truer name:
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
A fragment.
A memory.
But why remain merely that?
If a Lord Voldemort walked this world…
Why should she not become the dominant soul?
/------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------/
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