章 119: Chapter 119
Harry would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his feet numb from the weight of the dwarf, as after letting Thomas alone, Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.
"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you, Malfoy …"
Percy stopped when he saw Draco and his goons on the floor, wincing in pain courtesy of Thomas's fight with the dwarf. He looked at them with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.
"And you, Malfoy," he said, "what are you doing lying there like a wounded hippogriff? Did you get into a fight with the dwarf too?"
Draco glared at Percy and tried to get up, but his chest hurt from the impact of the harp. He barely managed to get on his legs before pointing at Thomas.
"No, you idiot," he said. "It was that Ravenclaw brat who fought the dwarf, before he threw the harp and hit me. He should be expelled for attacking me."
Percy raised his eyebrows and looked at Thomas, who was sitting next to Harry and rubbing his ankle. He saw that Thomas had a dagger in a sheath, which was far by safe.
"Is that true, Thomas?" Percy asked. "Have you attacked Malfoy?"
Thomas let out a sigh and ignored Percy. He knew that Percy was a pompous and biased prefect who would always side with Malfoy. Not to mention that he had done nothing wrong. He had only defended Harry from the dwarf's harassment and tried to stop the annoying song.
Meanwhile Hermione, Daphne and Tracey were checking on the three boys that fall victims to that bloody dwarf magical song. As Thomas was helping Harry, neither of the boys noticed that Draco grabbed something that fell from Thomas's bag when he was fighting with the dwarf, and was now looking at a diary.
Luckly, Harry turned his head just in time to see Draco grabbing the diary from the floor.
"That's not yours!" Harry shouted at him.
"This is not yours either, Potter," he said. "It belongs to that Ravenclaw loser. What is it, anyway? His secret diary? Or maybe his dark secrets?"
Percy berated him and tried to take the diary from him.
"Malfoy, give that back right now," Percy said. "That's none of your business. You have no right to read someone else's personal property."
Draco smirked and pulled the diary away from Percy.
"Oh, I have every right, Weasley," Draco said with a smirk on his face. "This is a free country, after all. And I'm sure this diary contains some juicy information that I can use against him. Maybe I'll even share it with the whole school."
Thomas shook his head and ignored Draco. The bloody fool was only trying to provoke him for whatever reason. If he knew that Draco will turn like this, maybe, just maybe he wouldn't had saved him that night in the forest. So, with a plan in mind, he turned to Percy and asked him a question that made the prefect freeze.
"Percy, what will be the punishment for injuring a fellow student in self-defense?"
Percy looked at Thomas with surprise and confusion, not exactly knowing how to answer this question.
"Um, well, I suppose that depends on the circumstances," he said. "But why do you ask?"
The only response that he got was a smile from Thomas before, to everyone's shock, Thomas grabbed both his dagger and wand and aimed his wand at Draco.
Thomas didn't hesitate to cast the spell that Sona had taught him, a three meters long water snake that emerged from his wand and slithered towards Draco. The blond Slytherin screamed in terror and tried to back away, but the snake was faster and wrapped itself around his body, dragging him to the ground. Thomas took advantage of the distraction and charged towards Draco with his dagger in hand, with no intention of actually stabbing him.
As soon as he reached Draco, Thomas grabbed his arm, and slowly yet forcefully Thomas force Draco's fingers from the diary making the Slytherin howl out in pain before dropping the diary, which Thomas quickly snatched. Standing in front of the now crying Slytherin boy, Thomas felt a little bit guilty for what he did, but alas, this should be a good lesson for Daddy's dearest.
After leaving Draco on the ground to groan out in pain and fear, Thomas returned to his friends and helped the girls wake up his friend from their curses, before all of them made their way to their class.
Later that day, Thomas went to bed before anyone else and the reason behind his decision was a stupid one. It was by no means something scientific or even remotely proven, but while in class, Ron spilled his ink all over the table and some of it got onto Thomas's stuff. Strangely enough every other thing other than the diary got some ink on it, but Tom Riddle's diary didn't had even one ink spot on it. That made him think that maybe just maybe, the diary was somewhat enchanted to absorb anything that fell on it, after all when they found it, despite being in a flooded bathroom, the diary was dry.
So, as he was laying in his bed, Thomas decided that before he tries anything, he will check each and every page. And after a good while of flicking through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of ink on it. Since there was nothing, he would lose by doing this, Thomas pulled out his bottle of ink from his desk, before using his wand to move a tiny bit of ink onto an empty page.
The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, without any spectacular effects, it vanished.
'What do you think about this?'
[I'm not a wizard like you boy, but this thing is clearly enchanted. Try to write in it and see what happens.]
Thomas did what his mentor suggested and chose to write his name and a greeting on the blank page. He dipped his quill in the ink bottle and wrote:
(Hello, my name is Thomas Grayson.)
And after waiting for a few seconds, nothing happened. Just as he was about to close the diary and give up, he saw something that made his eyes widen. The ink on the page glowed again and then faded, leaving behind new words that looked like they were written by someone else.
(Hello, Thomas Grayson. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come to get my diary?)
These words, too, faded away, but now Thomas knew what he had to do.
(Frankly, as stupid as it may sound, my friends and I found it in a bathroom. Someone must have tried to get rid of it.)
(A pity, I guess. Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.)
(I take it this is about what happened years ago when you were a student right?)
For a few seconds nothing and then out of nowhere words appeared once again.
(You are right, Thomas Grayson. As you have probably realized, this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Things that no one wants to become known to your average witches and wizards.)
(Believe it or not, similar things are happening now at Hogwarts.)
(You are a student there?)
(Aye, I'm in my second year. Since you have been here, fifty years ago, I take you know more about the chamber of secrets than anyone in this school, right?)
(Fifty years? That's a long time, even for a wizard or a witch. But you are right Thomas Grayson, I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But as you already know that was one big fat lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth to anyone, fearing that this would destroy his reputation. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut or else I would face the consequences. But I knew it could happen again. The monster was still alive, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned or even found as a matter of fact."
Thomas paused for a moment when he read the last part. So, the headmaster from fifty years ago decided that it was for the best to hide this incident rather than solving it… This is why the magical community was slowly but surely getting worst. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't ask this Tom Riddle more about the incident, after the more he knows, the better his chances of taking this creature down would become.
(Believe or not, the chamber had been opened and right now four victims had fallen in the creature's attacks, can you tell me more about it?)
(I can show you, if you like," came Riddle's reply. "You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him.)
That was not something that Thomas had ever thought that will ever happen. Then again, with how strange this diary was, add the fact that soul magic was used here…
"God, things are never going to get easy huh?"
[Are you really going to thrust a fragment of a man you had never met?]
"I have to, Bahamut. It's the only way to see with my own eyes what in God's name attacked my friend."
[I won't be able to see or interfere with what you will see, so be careful.]
Even though Bahamut said that, Thomas knew that the dragon will keep him alive one way or the other. And so, he turned his head at the diary just in time to see new words forming on the page.
(Let me show you the truth, Thomas Grayson!)
Rather than writing a response, Thomas put his palm on the page and as soon as he touches the diary, the pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, making Thomas to quickly retract his hand just as the pages stopped halfway through the month of June. To his surprise, Thomas saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a minuscule television screen. Being curious about this screen, he raised the book to take a closer look only to feel himself being dragged inside the screen. Not wanting to fell face first thought the screen, Thomas quickly moved the diary slightly away letting his legs go first before the rest of his body.
A second later, he landed on the cold floor of a familiar office. He knew immediately where he was. This circular room with the sleeping portraits was Dumbledore's office, well right now it wasn't the old man office, since it was fifty years in the past. Instead, a wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, was in the seat reading a letter by candlelight. This should be Headmaster Dippet or at least one of the professors from that time.
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