Notes: Hi guys! This plot bunny came to me late in the night, and I just felt compelled to write the start of it. Let me know what you think.


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Draco's sneer grew was wide, his eyes lit up in triumph as he walked down the hallway towards the Slytherin common room, his prize firmly in the crook of his arm. It had taken him two months to get it… two months of planning thrown right out the window when the perfect opportunity presenting itself in front of him.

Ginny Weasley had left her school bag unattended. Stupid girl. It had taken Draco only a few moments to rifle through it and get what he wanted… the book.

Draco was sharp eyed, and highly attuned to what his father did. He had clearly seen it, two months ago, when Lucius had slipped the strange book into Ginny Weasley's old beaten cauldron. Draco had been intrigued, but knew better than to ask his father. Sometimes his father sent him out on tasks, to prove his worth as a Malfoy. Draco could only assume that retrieving this book was just one of those tasks.

Quickly ducking behind the false wall, he didn't even grunt a hello to those in the common room before heading up to his own. Excitement was building deeply within him. What did this book contain? Dark magical spells? Obviously, if it was gifted from his father, it was useful. Draco made sure to pull the curtains around his bed closed before he finally opened it.

It was, needless to say, a disappointing experience. The book was nothing more than a stupid diary.  For a moment, he wondered if he had grabbed the wrong book by accident… but no… this was the right cover. Besides, the pages were blank. If it had been the girl's diary, it seems she would have written something in it.

Draco cursed, tossing the diary towards the foot of his bed, and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Well, that was a waste of time. The momentary high from stealing the book was wearing off, leaving him bored once more. If only it contained something useful… then at least he could be practicing… wait.

He sat bolt upright, realizing that he had thrown the book right where he had previously tossed a quill he had "borrowed" from some Huffelpuff. Lifting the book, he realized that the damage had been done. The quill was smashed and leaking left over ink onto his expensive blankets… but what was this? The book seemed to have soaked up all of the ink.

A genuine smile lit up his face, and he quickly grabbed a new quill. Opening up the diary, he made a mark on the first page. To his amusement, the mark faded into the book, as if it was never there. For a moment, Draco wondered what it could mean. Was the diary hiding what had been written inside? Was there a way to reveal it?

Happily enough, the diary supplied all of his answers for him. Within a few moments of the mark disappearing, finely written words appeared on the page.

"Hello?"

Draco blinked. Well, this was new. Did the diary have a mind of some sort? Quickly, he wrote back, "Who are you?"

"My name is Tom Riddle," The diary wrote, "May I ask your name?"

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I demand that you reveal your secrets to me."

There was a pause before the diary wrote back. For some strange reason, it gave Draco the impression that it was laughing. "I have many secrets, Mr. Malfoy. Tell me… where are you?"

"Hogwarts," He wrote back shortly, wondering how he could possibly threaten a book into giving up secrets. Tearing out the pages might just damage the thing. So he would placate it… for now. "In the Slytherin dormitories."

"The greatest of all the houses." Tom wrote. "I was in Slytherin myself. Of course that was over fifty years ago. Things were better back then. No one was as muggle crazy as I was told they are now."

This caused Draco to chuckle a little. He was warming up to his diary. It seemed Tom Riddle had his head on straight. "That was before Dumbledore's time, right? That must have been great. Dumbledore is the worst. Everyone with brains says so."

"So I've heard.  My Headmaster, Dippet, was much more… practical about the Dark Arts. "

Ah, finally they were getting somewhere! Draco wrote back. "Oh?"

"Oh yes. Let me tell you…"

And that was how Draco spent that night, writing to his newly found friend in a book, not knowing Tom's true identity. And not knowing what trouble it would bring him…