A/N: The bolded names indicate a change in PoV


Dahlia

Dahlia Grace was in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. She had a professor's note allowing her to be there "for research purposes only", but Defense Against the Dark Arts material wasn't the only thing she was looking for. She hoped to find a copy of her grandfather's book, which wasn't so much Defense as the Dark Arts itself.

Her finger wandered over the "S" section. The books were arranged by title, not author, which annoyed her. It would be so much simpler to find things the way she was used to. Without realizing it, she skipped over the "S" and stepped into the "T" area. It seemed the book had been banned from the library altogether… Ah well. She'd find something else to read.

As Dahlia turned to leave, a slim black volume caught her eye. Most of the books on the shelf were thick and tattered, but the small one still looked fairly new. She took it off the shelf and studied it, looking for some kind of title. There was nothing on the cover, so she opened it. Cursive writing on the inside of the cover proclaimed to be "Tom Riddle's Diary".

Flipping through the pages, she realized that the book was blank. Not a single word on any page. And anyway, what was someone's diary doing in the restricted section?

Just then, writing appeared in black ink on the first page. Dahlia nearly dropped the book in shock, but held onto it and watched as the letters formed into words and a sentence.

Hello. How did you come across my diary?

Dahlia closed the book and stuffed it into her bag. She made a quick exit from the library, very surprised that she hadn't set off any of Madame Pince's security enchantments. She made a mental promise to return the book as soon as she found out what made it tick.

In the safety of the Ravenclaw common room, she opened the diary again. The writing on the first page was still there, though it looked slightly faded. Wondering if it could actually reply to her, she took out a quill and wrote just under the previous message.

It was on a shelf in the Restricted section. I couldn't find any other interesting books in the rest of the library. Who's diary is this?

Tom

I think you mean "whose". And my name is Tom Riddle. What is yours?

Tom's hand shook as he wrote the reply. He had been locked inside the diary, inside his own head, for nearly fifty years now. He'd managed to carve out a sort of mental space, a near-perfect image of his own body sitting at a desk in the Slytherin common room. But it just wasn't the same as being alive, as having his own body and interacting with the world. Tom could make things appear in his little room, but only objects he'd seen before. He'd already read and re-read all the books he had ever picked up and played infinite games of chess with himself. But another person to talk to? This was something new. Before he was locked in the diary, Tom had never cared for idle conversation. But fifty years of isolation had a way of making even the most cold-hearted seek companionship.

Within a few moments, whoever had the diary saw his message and wrote back.

Don't correct my grammer. I don't think I ordered any books with spell check. If it offends you, I can simply put you back on the shelf. The name is Dahlia, by the way. Dahlia Grace.

So it was a girl… That would make things easier for Tom. He wasn't sexist by nature, but females had more of a tendency to write in diaries and share feelings.

It is nice to meet you, Dahlia Grace. I'm sorry about the "spell check", whatever that is. I do tend to be a grammar fiend at times, but that is no reason to simply put me back on the shelf. I am probably an old book by now, and know some very interesting things.

Tom hated writing from the perspective of the diary. It made him feel like an object, like he was no more than the vessel that contained him. But it was necessary. He had no idea how much magical experience this Dahlia Grace had. Perhaps Horcruxes were common knowledge by now, or maybe Dahlia had a well-developed sense of intuition. Either way, pretending to be the diary itself made him seem more innocent. A charmed magical object rather than a piece of someone's soul. Whatever he did, he must not drive the girl away. If he played his cards right, Tom could regain his body and leave the diary for good.

Dahlia

Perhaps. However, considering I found you in the restricted section, I wonder if we should continue this conversation.

Dahlia held her quill up to her mouth. Should she really put the diary back on the shelf? It was probably left there by the librarian who, deciding it not worth anything, hid it from the students until she could decide on something else. Usually it would have ended up in her office, but she may have been busy and forgot about it. Besides, since when had Dahlia been afraid of getting into trouble?

It is all right, Dahlia. I'm not dangerous, and I have no idea what I was doing there in the first place. Perhaps the librarian misfiled me. This is Hogwarts, right? The Hogwarts Library?

Dahlia smiled to herself as she wrote the next message. Despite the inherent craziness of talking to a book, this was kind of fun. It was the most entertaining thing she'd done since that time she'd rigged another girl's potion to explode all over her new school robes. Served her right…

Misfiling is a possibility. Or possibly these pages contain the secret to the end of the world.

Dahlia wondered whether the book had any idea of things that were going on outside its pages. Did the book understand a joke when it heard... read... whatever it did... one?

And yes, it is Hogwarts, she added.

Tom

Tom didn't know what to think of the girl's cryptic response. Was she being serious? Had his... other self... accomplished his goals and dominated the Wizarding world? Was Tom's own name recognizable to her?

No, it couldn't be. Otherwise, the book would not have been on public display and Dahlia wouldn't sound so lighthearted about the 'secret to the end of the world'. Tom shook his head in disgust at himself. It seemed that isolation had taken its toll on his ability to read people's intentions, and he couldn't use Legilimancy to read Dahlia's mind through the diary's pages...

Very funny. I almost fell for that one.

The girl wrote back almost instantly.

Glad I got it out of my system. I've never written in a diary before, much less one that wrote back.

Tom thought of a clever way to throw Dahlia off his trail so she wouldn't get too curious about him.

Never? I thought replying diaries would be more common by now. How old are you, anyway? And what year is it?

Of course, Tom had made up the thing about the self-writing diary, but it had been a good excuse to ask about the year. He had lost track of time several decades back, and wasn't sure how long he'd been trapped in the diary. It couldn't have been any more than a century, but it was always better to be exact.

I'm a seventh year Ravenclaw. The year is 1993. When was this interesting piece of literature created anyway? It seems to me that a self-writing diary would be more common if the idea was well known. Why would it have been kept a secret?

Tom thought for a moment, going over imaginary motives in his head.

Perhaps my maker wanted a monopoly on his invention. Anyway, enough about me. What would you like to talk about instead?

Tom wasn't thrilled with Dahlia's line of questioning, nor with her age. Unless they had completely watered down the quality of magical instruction at Hogwarts, a seventh-year would be more difficult to manipulate than a younger student. But he had time to do it. Oh, did he have time! It had already been fifty years, exactly, since he'd been sealed inside the diary, so he could wait a bit longer.

Fifty years... Tom wondered what the other half of him had done with fifty years. Had he found a path to true immortality? Gained enough power to command the Wizarding world? Somehow, he doubted it. But the other Tom Riddle was probably still alive. That bastard probably didn't even notice when he locked away a sentient part of his soul. As soon as Tom escaped the diary's pages, he would forego the Killing Curse and strangle his counterpart with his bare hands!

I honestly don't know what to talk about with a replying diary. It isn't as if I could tell you everything I ate today... my sister did that to her diary once. I guess that's what happens when you have serious writer's block.

At that moment, Tom was wishing he had fallen into the sister's hands instead.

I see your point. You could start by telling me a bit about yourself, or the current situation in the world you live in. Are there any major wars or political events going on?

Tom had a sudden, childish urge to cross his fingers. Despite the fact that he hated his living counterpart, he hoped that the other had accomplished something notable. That he had reached at least one of the goals they had shared before the soul division occurred late in Tom's sixth year at Hogwarts.

Well, the Ministry of Magic has just elected a new leader a few years ago, a man by the name of Cornelius Fudge. He seems like an idiot, but then again, I hate politicians. Our prefect just called for lights out. I have to go before the book gets confiscated.

Good night,

Tom began to write, but the book had already been shut and he was alone with his thoughts. After a few minutes of sitting in the imaginary common room, it was as if nothing had changed. For a few brief minutes, he had been connected to the world. He'd felt almost alive again. But now the girl had left, and Tom could only hope that she would return the next day. He had gotten a small twinge of energy from the conversation with Dahlia, but he needed more. Much more. Creating a body out of thin air was no simple feat...

Tom fell into a sort of trance, sitting in the chair with a quill still clutched in his hand. His eyes were fixed on the imaginary copy of his diary, waiting for the next words to appear.


Thanks for reading! Please review if you liked it :)