Before long, Elijah heard Harry and Ron—the two bffs in distress—muttering urgently outside the cubicle.
"Hurry up, we have to go," Ron hissed, knocking on the door where Elijah and Hermione were hiding.
A sharp, panicked voice answered him. "I—I really don't want to come out. You two go by yourselves."
"Hermione, we know Millicent looks like a troll, but no one will know it's you," Ron called back.
"No—really, no. Just go. You're wasting time."
Harry exchanged a confused look with Ron. In his Goyle-form, the expression was particularly vacant. "Alright, at least we still have Ginny—Ayo! Malfoy?"
Ron's voice died in his throat. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over his oversized robes at the sight of the figure stepping out of the shadows. For a terrifying second, he thought the plan had been exposed, and the real Draco Malfoy had cornered them in the girls' lavatory.
Then Harry noticed the Gryffindor tie. "Are you Ginny?"
Elijah nodded. "Yeah.. I think I mistakenly took his hair.."
Ron let out a strangled breath. He looked at Ginny with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment; he hadn't expected the one reliable member of their group to mess up the potion. "But how are you going to question Malfoy when you have Malfoy's face?"
"I can't," Elijah said, adopting a look of smug helplessness that made Harry's fist twitch.
"Sorry, Ginny," Harry muttered, "but you really look annoying."
"Thanks. You look lobotomized. Now go—the potion doesn't last long."
As the two boys hurried off, Elijah turned back to the cubicle. "Hermione, wait for me here. I'm going to use this appearance to gather information elsewhere."
"Go, just go," Hermione sobbed from behind the door.
Elijah didn't waste time changing. With a flick of his wand, his red-and-gold robes bled into Slytherin green. He slipped out of the bathroom and headed straight for the Owl Post Office, checking the Marauder's Map as he walked.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Ink spiderwebbed across the parchment. Dumbledore is in his office. Malfoy... Malfoy is already at the Post Office. No, he's leaving.
Elijah cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and flattened his back against the cold stone wall. A moment later, the real Draco Malfoy strolled past, staring intently at a letter.
He followed at a distance, catching a glimpse of a newspaper tucked under Draco's arm. The headlines were clear: Arthur Weasley had been fined for the flying car incident.
Lucius was clearly turning the screws on the Ministry, ensuring the Weasleys were too occupied to look into Malfoy's own affairs.
Satisfied, Elijah doubled back to the tower.
The air was biting, filled with swirling snow that drifted through the open arches. He found the Malfoy family owl—a majestic, haughty bird that didn't blink as Elijah attached a pre-prepared letter to its leg.
The owl took flight, vanishing into the grey sky.
It was time to set the trap that would force Dumbledore out of the castle.
...
"Malfoy isn't the heir!"
Ron panted, meeting Elijah back at the lavatory entrance. Both he and Harry were shrinking back into themselves, their skin bubbling as they returned to their natural forms.
"So it was all for nothing?" Elijah asked.
"Not entirely," Ron said, tugging at his suddenly tight collar. "I'm writing to my dad tomorrow. I bet the Malfoys have something hidden under their drawing-room floor."
Ron pounded on Hermione's door. "Hermione, come out! We've got a lot to tell you—"
"Go away!"
The ghost of Moaning Myrtle drifted through the stall door, looking uncharacteristically jubilant. "Oh, wait until you see," she giggled. "Ehehehe~ It's horrific!"
The lock clicked. Hermione stepped out, her face buried in her hands. When she looked up, she was covered in sleek black fur. Her eyes had turned a piercing yellow, and two pointed cat ears poked through her hair.
"It was a cat hair!" she wailed. "Millicent must have a cat. But the potion isn't for animals!"
"Tough luck," Ron said, though his expression suggested he found the transformation strangely fascinating.
"You'll be the talk of the school," Myrtle sang.
"It's alright, Hermione," Elijah said, hiding his own amusement behind a mask of concern. "We'll get you to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey doesn't ask questions. Just stay away from Lockhart, though."
...
With the Christmas holidays ending, Elijah prepared to return control to Ginny. The strain of the possession had left her pale, and she needed the break to recover. He gave her a series of instructions to ensure the boys wouldn't suspect the switch.
"So the clue is dead?" Ginny asked "Mr. Riddle" during their final exchange.
"Not quite. Ron found a lead on the Malfoys, and I discovered Percy has a secret girlfriend. Things will move soon."
But the move came from an unexpected direction.
...
When the new term began, Elijah suddenly found the link severed.
He was no longer looking at the stone walls of Gryffindor Tower.
The diary had a new owner.
"Is this what my dad meant? The thing that opens the Chamber?"
Draco Malfoy turned the diary over in his hands, his lip curled in disgust. It looked like a Muggle artifact—cheap, flimsy, and smelling of "common" origins. He pinched the corner with two fingers as if he might catch a disease.
"Aparecium!" Draco barked. Nothing. "Damn it. Father said to be respectful, but this looks like rubbish."
He opened the cover and saw the name: Riddle.
"Probably a half-blood," Draco muttered. "If he's a Mudblood, I'm burning this." He sat at his desk, dipped a quill in expensive ink, and scrawled:
"Revelio!"
...
Back in Gryffindor, the atmosphere was frantic.
"Ginny, what's wrong?" Harry asked.
They had found Ginny's dormitory in shambles. It had been tossed with professional coldness. Ginny stood in the center of the wreckage, whispering, "It's gone..."
Fred and George were white-faced. They assumed the thief had taken the Marauder's Map.
"Is it really gone?" Fred whispered, heartbroken.
Ginny nodded. In her mind, the twins were talking about the diary. She felt a surge of terror—if the Heir had stolen Mr. Riddle, then the only person who truly understood the Chamber was in the hands of the enemy.
"We have to tell a Professor," Hermione insisted.
"No!" Ginny, Fred, and George shouted in unison.
The twins feared for their map; Ginny feared for her friend. When Percy threatened to tell their mother, Ginny turned on him with a ferocity that stunned the group.
"You tell anyone, Percy, and I'll tell your secret!"
The threat hit home. Percy turned scarlet and beat a hasty retreat, leaving the younger students alone.
Eventually, after much prodding, Ginny led Harry, Ron, and Hermione to an abandoned classroom.
"You have to promise not to tell," she said.
They swore.
"The stolen item... it was a diary. Mr. Riddle's diary."
"Riddle?" Ron's voice cracked. "Tom Riddle?"
"You know him?" Harry asked.
"I spent a whole night polishing his trophies in the forest of Filch's office!" Ron groaned. "Special Services to the School. I'll never forget that name."
"He won that award," Ginny whispered, "because he caught the person who opened the Chamber fifty years ago."
The air in the room seemed to vanish. "Who was it?" Harry demanded.
"He didn't tell me. But the diary has a mind of its own. It's a memory. Mr. Riddle was helping me... he wanted to find the culprit again. Now the Heir has stolen him. He was targeted!"
"You've been talking to a book?" Ron asked, horrified. "Ginny, that's dangerous!"
"He's my friend! He helped me with my spells, my potions... he even helped with my homework!"
Hermione gasped. "He helped with your homework? That's... that's actually sinister. No good person would do that."
"It's brilliant," Ron countered. "Why didn't I find this diary?"
The realization hit Harry with the force of a physical blow. The diary was the key, and it was gone.
...
Inside the diary, Elijah felt a similar sense of loss. He had spent months cultivating Ginny, only to be snatched away at the finish line. He feared Dumbledore had finally caught on.
Then, ink bled onto the page.
"Hey, magical Diary! Show me your secrets!"
Elijah's irritation flared. Show you my what? He wanted to scream, but he forced himself back into the role of the patient mentor. He needed to know who he was dealing with.
"Who are you?" he wrote back.
On the other side, Draco Malfoy grinned. "Am I a genius? I am."
He wrote back: "My name is Draco Malfoy. My father told me this diary can help me open the Chamber. Tell me where the Heir is. I want him to serve me."
Elijah stared at the words. Lucius?
He had just sent a letter to Lucius Malfoy, and the man had immediately handed the diary to his arrogant, blundering son? Elijah felt a wave of cold suffocating frustration. He had shot himself in the foot.
Fine, Elijah thought, his analytical mind already pivoting. "...Malfoy will do just as well, but I must gain his trust quickly!"