Acknowledgements:

This was inspired by a wonderful idea submitted by Michelle-31a! I have NOT read her story prior to the completion and submission of my version, so to avoid further direct influence upon my writing.

Some familiarity of J.'s 'The Chamber Of Secrets' is helpful, as this 'what if' tale is based on that book - and the italic parts of my story's final section are taken directly from that book, in condensed form. I claim no ownership of J.'s work or characters - or for the initial idea for this not-for-profit story. Nevertheless, I hope you will enjoy it.

So, what if, when Ginny threw away Tom Riddle's diary - another pupil found it, before Harry Potter did? What if that pupil had been a certain seemly-eccentric Ravenclaw…?

The Riddle And The Ravenclaw

The girl sat, puzzled, within the toilet cubicle, as she heard the heavy sniffs of the other pupil, two doors away.

"Goodbye - and good riddance!"

The voice had sounded familiar, though it was somewhat distorted by the thick sobs as well as by the 'splash' of something heavy evidently being dumped into the toilet itself. Before the calmer girl could finish what she was engaged in, the second female flushed her toilet, then hurried out of the cubicle - slamming the door to, after her.

"Ginny…? Is that you?"

But whoever it was, the pupil was too upset to hear the soft, somewhat-lilting voice of the seated girl. There was the pounding of feet as the anxious girl rushed over to the taps to wash her hands under the sudden gush of water, then she ran off - never being aware that she hadn't been alone when she came to the lavatory…

Seconds later, there was another flush, and the puzzled first year pupil exited her own cubicle, before calmly strolling over to wash own her hands.

As she finished and turned to leave, she noticed that the bottom of her shoes were wet. En route to the hand basins, she'd walked through a pool of water from that cubicle.

Frowning a little, the girl pushed the cubicle door open and peeped in.

A small, thin book was lying before the U-bend in the toilet.

Now that was just being disrespectful, the girl thought to herself. That could have been from the library…

Wincing, she reached in and pulled out the book. She was about to wipe it with several tissues, then her normally-wide eyes grew bigger as she saw the discovery in her dripping hand suddenly turn dry before her gaze.

Curious, she saw that there was some faded writing on the tatty black cover. A year. Fifty years ago, to be precise.

She opened it up. On the first page, in smudged ink, was a barely-legible name: "T. M. Riddle". However, the rest of the pages, below printed headings for the days of the week and months of the year, were blank.

How did it absorb the water so quickly…?

"Hullo! Are you magical, Mr Book?" Luna Lovegood smiled down at her new acquisition.

That evening, after she was sure that the other Ravenclaw girls were asleep, Luna sat up in her bed, her mind too alert to rest for long. Keeping the room in darkness, so not to disturb anyone, the waif-like young lady pulled out the book from underneath her bed. Then, retrieving her wand, quill, and bottle of ink from her bedside drawers, she quietly turned herself face-down, shuffled her small body deeper into the bed, and threw the thick blanket over her head.

Now she could use her wand to study the book, without anyone else noticing.

"Lumos!" Luna whispered.

Her wand tip produced a small, faint - but constant - light, just enough to examine her find by. Holding her wand in her left hand, and guided by what she believed to be her intuition, the eleven-year-old pupil used her right hand to carefully dip her quill into the opened ink bottle, and she allowed a drip to fall onto the first blank sheet in the book.

As expected, the ink blot vanished within seconds as she watched.

Luna hesitated. But she felt moved to continue. Wedging her ink bottle against the book, to make sure it wasn't going to topple over, the young witch wrote a message on the same page.

'Hullo! I'm Luna. How are you, Mr Book?'

Her writing disappeared as soon as she completed the question. A tiny gasp escaped Luna's mouth as she saw more writing appear to replace her quill strokes, lower down on the page. The hand was different - more flowing than her own. But the ink was the same as what she had used…

'Hello, Luna. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?'

The words faded out of existence as Luna finished reading them. In excitement, she put inked quill to the aged paper once more.

'Someone had tried to flush it down a loo. They seemed to think you were bog standard.'

There was a noticeable pause, before more writing appeared in place of Luna's scrawled comment. 'I…see. Now that was ungracious. No matter. My diary is safe in your hands, isn't it, Miss…?'

'Lovegood. But call me Luna. And yes, you are safe with me.'

'Good… You seem to be a kind soul, Luna. When I owned this diary, it was my cherished secret means of unburdening my tensions when I was a Hogwarts pupil. But I took care to ensure that no one would ever know my thoughts, unless they truly wanted to be my friend.' (pause) 'I am still at Hogwarts, I trust?'

'Oh, yes. And I would be happy to be your friend. I've only been at Hogwarts school a few months, myself. I'm a first year pupil, you see. I was hoping to make lots of new friends here, since I didn't really have any back home. But the Ravenclaw boys generally find us girls difficult to understand.' Luna hesitated, then frowned. 'Come to think of it, the Ravenclaw girls seem to find me hard to understand, too.'

'Now, that won't do…' Riddle wrote in reply. 'Let me be someone you can trust in. I take it you are a Ravenclaw yourself? From a family with a tradition of being placed in that house, perhaps?'

'Oh, yes. Daddy was so pleased when the Sorting Hat placed me here! You see, I resemble my mother so much - except that she's dead now, and I'm alive… But she too was in Ravenclaw - and I believe her parents were, also. What house were you in?'

Several moments passed before Riddle responded. Eventually, he wrote. 'I was in Slytherin.'

'Oh. I hope you've got a good heart. The Slytherins I've encountered so far seem to be rather small-minded.'

'I can assure you, Luna, that my mind is far from being small, so to speak… Indeed, you will find I am very kind and thoughtful - as well as being a good listener. Not that I actually have ears, but…'

'I understand. So, Tom, you are a ghost - I take it?'

'Yes. You could say that. I am bound to this old diary of mine. But one day, I will be able to move on…'

'Do you wish to tell me how you died?'

'It - it was about a decade or more, ago, I understand. And it was sudden. So sudden… The pain… I don't recall much else about it. Shock - you might say…'

'Yes, ghosts do tend to linger on earth if they died too quickly as humans, I suppose.' Luna stopped writing for a moment, uncertain what to discuss next. Then, smiling, she proceeded.

'Tell me about your life here at Hogwarts. Your diary is half a century old! It must have been so different then…'

'That can wait for another time. I'd rather know more about the present, young Luna… Tell me - do you know anything of Harry Potter?'

'Sure, I do. Everyone in the school does! He's in the year above me. He is The-Boy-That-Lived. That is to say He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed his parents - but his killing curse on poor baby Harry backfired. Thanks to Harry, the wizarding world is free of that nasty wizard.'

'Interesting… How did a baby achieve such a feat?'

'No one seems to know. I rather doubt Harry does.'

'Have you ever asked him?'

'Well, no. I'm neither in his year or house. I don't think he's ever noticed me. I do wonder what he would be like to know, behind the public face… But I'm rather shy. And he has enough friends. Particularly Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I do find it interesting why Hermione hangs around with those boys, mind. She hardly seems to have any female friends…'

'Never mind about that. If you want to get to know Harry better, I can help you get over your shyness, if you like…'

'Oh! That sounds nice.'

'Yes. Just tell me about yourself, Luna. Your likes and dislikes. Your hopes and dreams for the future. What motivates you. You will find that I can get people to achieve anything, with me to show them the way…'

(yawn) 'That's kind of you, Tom. But it's late , and I do feel tired now. I guess you can't tell night from day, when you're stuck in a book. I'll write to you again tomorrow. Goodnight, my new friend.'

'Ahh… Goodnight, Luna. I will look forward to the next time…'

The last of Tom Riddle's writing faded from view. Luna smiled, and closed the diary. With satisfaction, she saw by the light of her wand that she hadn't spilled any ink onto the bedclothes.

Putting the diary and her other bits away, the petite Ravenclaw brushed the loose strands of her long, pale-blonde hair behind her ears, before settling herself on her pillow. She wondered what Tom looked like when he wrote and spellbound his diary.

She soon fell asleep. Luna smiled as she dreamt of riding upon the back of a beautiful unicorn which was galloping through the Forbidden Forest that bordered the school…

'Hullo again, Tom Riddle. This is Luna. How are you?'

'Better, now that you are here, Luna.'

'Yes. It can't be much fun being a spirit trapped in a book, can it?' (pause). 'How did that happen?'

'Ahhh… Let's say that Hogwarts was really the first true home I had. And that after my…death…I knew a part of me would come back to my old school. But, yes, it is lonely being less than what I was. Having you as a friend, Luna, is of more help than you could imagine…'

'Well, I can imagine quite a bit - or so the girls in Ravenclaw tell me… But anyway, I wanted to convey to you something of where I am. I'm writing to you as I sit besides the lake. It's midday, on a sunny January day. It's a little cold - but so peaceful and lovely here.'

'I am glad to know it. I would like to see it through your eyes, if it was possible.'

'I've seen you, you should know.'

'You…have?'

'Yes. Today is Saturday, and I've done some research in the library. I soon came across a picture of you, Tom - once I persuaded Madame Pince to do so, after giving her a few lemon sherbets. You looked rather handsome, you know. Especially as a sixteen-year-old boy.

'I've read about you receiving an award for your part in ending a crises, Tom. The Chamber of Secrets. It's apparently been opened again. There was an awful message on a wall. One of the girls said it was written in blood. Also, the caretaker's cat had been…petrified. And I don't mean that it had been scared away by Hagrid's dog…'

'I believe I know what you do mean, Luna. Some pupils have been attacked, in some way - have they not? Are they…? Are they from muggle families?'

'Why, yes! Two boys and a ghost have met the same fate as the cat. The boys either had one or both parents as muggles. Thankfully, the victims are all still alive - just frozen. So the teachers say.'

'No one… No one has died…?'

'No. Oh! You're thinking of that girl who was killed during your time at Hogwarts, of course. When the Chamber of Secrets was opened before.'

'I am, indeed… (pause) You mentioned Hagrid. He's come back to Hogwarts, then?'

'Yes. He's the groundsman and keeper of the keys, now.'

'Hah! There's the answer, then. Hagrid has opened the Chamber of Secrets - again! He did it fifty years ago, and got expelled after that girl's death. And now he has once more released the creature that was dormant in the chamber.'

Luna frowned at the latest words from her magical correspondent. She hummed to herself, and absent-mindedly twirled her wand - which was presently tucked above her ear, underneath her dirty-blonde hair. Then she put her quill to the diary again.

'That doesn't make sense. The message on the wall said 'Enemies Of The Heir, Beware' - and the rumour going around the pupils is that it's the work of the Heir of Slytherin. Hagrid's a half-giant, who was in Gryffindor - as you must know. He wouldn't fit the image of a would-be murderous descendant at all.'

'You must trust me on this, Luna…'

'Then there's that incident when Harry Potter spoke in Parseltongue to a big snake. I wasn't there - but Padma Patil told me about it…'

'That is interesting… Only dark wizards are said to possess that ability. Maybe Harry has a hand in these attacks…'

'That is what some of the pupils believe. But I think they're wrong. When enough people are afraid and start blaming the obvious, they often fail to consider other possibilities… Anyway, if you are sure Hagrid is responsible, I can take you to Professor Flitwick or Professor Dumbledore, and we can…'

'NO. I am a secret diary! Please do not reveal my existence to anyone else. Promise?'

'Okay, Tom. I promise. But if the attacks continue, the school could close. That would be tragic.'

'Indeed it would. So if my suspicions are correct, Hagrid must be exposed once more. You can be the one who will do that, if you wish. That would make the other pupils respect you more, I should think…'

'I can't do that, Tom. Where is the proof that Hagrid was responsible for that girl's death, fifty years ago? Or for what's happening now?'

'Ahhh, what a mind you have, Luna. As for proof - I can show you if you like. I can take you into my memories…'

'Oh! Okay.'

With a start, Luna saw the pages of the diary suddenly turn of their own accord to the month of June. There was a blaze of light from the now-revealed open pages - which then disappeared with a 'putt!' of feeble magic dying out with a brief spark.

She frowned. Nothing else had happened.

'Tom?' she wrote.

'I apologise… It takes concentration and power to draw you into my memories. I am not strong enough to do so, yet.'

'How do you gain strength?'

'By soaking up the magical residue at Hogwarts. Give me time, Luna, and I will be more powerful…'

'You wanted to know about me, last night.'

'Yes…Please tell me about yourself, Luna.'

So Luna wrote at length about herself. First, she wrote a self-description, then she talked about her favourite subjects at school - and the teachers and pupils she shared classes with. Next, she moved onto her most passionate interest - magical creatures of various descriptions.

'They all exist, of course, Tom. Even the ones the co-called wizard experts describe as 'tommyrot'. People in Sweden still occasionally report sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. And I'm sure there's Nargles around Hogwarts - stealing pupil's possessions at night, and returning them, out of nowhere, elsewhere in the school. Then there's those pesky Wrackspurts…'

'Ahh, Luna…? What…- what is a Wrackspurt?'

'Oh, Tom! Wrackspurts are like invisible mites that get into your head through your ears and make your thoughts turn funny. Daddy's working on a means to render them visible. He's the Editor of The Quibbler, you see - and he thinks that by using a combination of filtered, colour glasses…'

'I…I think I need to rest now, Luna.'

'Oh! And I was about to talk about Blibbering Humdingers… Well, you don't need to worry about Wrackspurts, Tom. As you said, you don't actually have any ears! But I'm running out of ink. So, goodbye for now.'

'Goodbye, Luna.'

The last line disappeared from sight. Luna closed the diary, and rubbed her eyes - suddenly feeling tired and drained.

She checked her watch.

"Gracious! I'm late for lunch!"

Gathering her possessions into her satchel, Luna jumped down from her favourite rock by the lake's shoreline, and walked back to the castle - hoping that she would at least be in time for pudding…

Inside his diary, the splinter of Tom Marvolo Riddle seethed with both a surge of anger, and a rising sense of confusion. It was true that he had just fed off the Lovegood girl's life-force, and so was feeling stronger. But the images he had plucked from her mind, plus her odd, languid observations of her fellow pupils - not to mention her rambling monologue of Crumble-Horned Snorkacks and the like - had left Riddle's brain reeling with the overwhelming impression that he was dealing with an eccentric, if complex, young lady, who was quite different from his previous victim, Ginny Weasley. Riddle had considered Ginny to have been a normal, weak-minded, eleven year-old girl. Easy prey for his powers, in other words.

Luna, by contrast - as Riddle was beginning to understand - was hardly weak-minded. Or normal, for that matter.

True, Ginny had been able to resist him at the end, and broken free of his occasional possessions of her. She had even tried to flush his diary down the toilet! But he wouldn't go down without a fight. Oh no…

Once he had cleared his mind of the clutter he'd just absorbed from that half-bonkers Ravenclaw girl, he would be ready to possess Luna. Then his basilisk could kill again, and feed on the fear from the pupils. When the time came that he would materialise in this present age, Riddle would use Luna's life-force to magically enlarge his serpentine pet. Then all the foul Mudbloods in the school would suffer - if they didn't have the wits to flee in time, once the basilisk was truly unleashed on them…

* * *

The next time Luna wrote to Tom in the diary was when she was one of the last remaining pupils in the Ravenclaw common room, that evening. At a seat on the other side of the fireplace, sat Cho Chang. She had just finished an essay on mandrakes in Herbology, and was now moving onto another book for her next revision.

After half-an-hour of Luna describing to Tom how pretty the falling snow and the winter landscape looked through the windows of Ravenclaw tower, she began to feel a headache coming on. No, more than a headache, Luna decided. There seemed to be a voice trying to speak inside her mind…

Yes. Your mind joined with mine, Luna Lovegood. We can achieve great things together! First, my pet needs to feed again. Find me a Mudblood for it to kill…

A Mudblood? Luna wasn't familiar with the term, and she frowned.

Such naivety… A mudblood is a child of non-wizarding people, who has somehow acquired the capacity to perform magic. They are a filthy blight on our kind! The bloodlines of witches and wizards must be kept pure…

Luna squinted, not sure what was happening at first. With an effort, she managed to break her eyes away from the open diary before her. She then shook her head - as a dim sense of panic rose from within…

Wrackspurts! In my head!

Luna took a moment to compose herself. She knew how to dispel the invisible mites - but she had no other source of paper at hand to help her.

Remembering how Tom Riddle looked in the school records Madame Pince had shown her, Luna gave a dreamy smile, and - checking that her quill was well-inked - wrote to her unusual correspondent once more.

'Roses are red, violets are blue.

You seem so sweet, Tom. But I don't yet know you!'

'Luna…? What are you doing?' Tom wrote back.

'I'm sorry, Tom. I seem to have Wrackspurts invading my head!' Luna wrote on the next page. 'I find, at times like these, writing poetry helps to clear them out.'

Moving back to the now-blank again preceding page, Luna continued her poetic musing with another spontaneous verse.

'Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan,

Who will be my future man?

Not Zacharias Smith, or Colin Creevey.

Smith's not nice - and the other's rather creepy!

Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley.

One of them - or a boy I've yet to see?

If Ron, in Ginny I'd have a sister-in-law.

But Harry's cute - I could become Mrs Potter!'

As Luna's words disappeared into the diary, Tom Riddle's flowing hand appeared below.

'I think… I think, Luna, that is enough poetry for today…'

She narrowed her eyes slightly. 'I actually believe I need to practice more, Tom. After all, the last two lines didn't quite rhyme. Still, 'Mrs Potter' has a nice ring to it. I could cheat, and write 'Mrs Pot-tor', of course. That would work…'

ENOUGH!!

The voice was in her head again - only louder this time. If I had my way, there will be NO 'Mrs Potter'!! Now, you silly girl, either help me to identify the next victim for my pet - or pass me over to Harry Potter himself!

"Urrkk…!" Luna's eyes went wide, and lost their focus. Stiffly, she rose from her seat before the warm fireplace - and, closing the diary but taking it with her, turned and headed for the door that led from Ravenclaw tower to the rest of Hogwarts.

Nearby, Cho Chang was engrossed in her book on Scandinavian runes. She half-glanced at the vacant-looking first-year, as the latter walked past her in a strange zigzag fashion to the Portrait Door.

Despite knowing Luna for only a few months, Cho was already vaguely familiar with the blonde girl's odd mannerisms. Consequently, she did not realise that anything was amiss, as Luna left the room…

Although in a hypnotic trance, the young Miss Lovegood was - at an unfathomable, deep level in her mind - still trying to regain control of her body. She made a desperate attempt to think of baby Crumple-Horned Snorkacks playing together - then mentally pictured images of bunny rabbits sitting on deckchairs and eating carrot sundaes under a glorious summer sun. All in an attempt to drive away the protesting, but relentless, force that had possessed her.

Luna realised she was sleepwalking towards Gryffindor tower. She didn't know the password to get in - but she sensed Tom did, somehow.

He…wants…Harry!

Continuing to bombard Tom Riddle with her thoughts of Snorkacks and sun-bathing rabbits, the blonde witch gathered what remained of her will, and concentrated on directing her own feet, one after the other - but now in a direction of her making…

Luna finally stopped. Gasping, she raised her wand and called out "Alohomora!"

The catch on the window lifted, and the pane swung open.

Luna…This is an empty chamber on the third floor! I told you…

"Yes, Tom. You did," she muttered - still feeling half-asleep. "But you don't have the right to order people about like that, you know. Or possess them…"

So why are you here?

Luna smiled and stood on tip toe, in an attempt to look through the open window. The cry of seagulls filled the room. Somewhere further down, the lapping of water could just be made out.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air.

The Black Lake… Tom's voice in her head now betrayed a stir of agitation. …where it touches the bedrock underneath the buildings connected to the Great Hall.

"That's right." Placing her wand in its customary position behind her ear, Luna raised Tom Riddle's diary in both hands to the open window, ready to send the old book into freefall…

NO!! You-will-not! You shall obey me, Luna Lovegood… Put me back down…

Luna cried out as Riddle's concentrated will forced her back, away from the window. Twisting herself round, she fell over. The black diary bounced across the dusty stone floor of the barren chamber, with a loud clatter - then all was silent, apart the sounds from outside, and the first year pupil's ragged breathing.

Luna winced and rubbed her head. She felt dizzy, and wasn't entirely sure what had just happened…

It was getting cold in here. No wonder - she'd left a window open! Closing it, Luna glanced at the diary again, vaguely remembering that she had to do something about the naughty boy inside of it.

I can't tell Professor Flitwick about him - I made a promise!

Luna took a few moments to assess the situation. Tom's voice was now longer in her mind. As much as he had drained her, she had also evidently exhausted him - at least for the time being.

But as Luna slowly approached the book, she sensed his presence gnawing at her mind once more…

She hummed to herself, blocking out the voice trying to pull at her will. Then she turned, and ran out of the empty room - making sure that the door was locked behind her.

'Tom. Are you awake?'

'I am here. Who is this?'

'It's Luna. I have a present for you.'

'A present? Where are you writing to me now, girl? What…day is this?'

'Oh, we're back in the toilets where I found this diary, Tom. And it's the evening after you tried to control me.'

Luna felt the spirit of Tom Riddle stir and attempt to enter her mind once more, only to be forced back.

After a pause, he wrote: 'I sense you are wearing some protective charm, Luna. Clever…'

'Yes. I remembered I had this special amulet amongst my items here at Hogwarts. My daddy sought it out and gave it to me after my mother died. She accidentally killed herself with her own magic, you see. And daddy wasn't going to run the risk of me doing the same thing…'

'How wise of him…' He paused. 'So. What happens now, Luna?'

He would keep her writing, Riddle thought to himself. The more the little witch wrote, the more powerful he would become. Yes, he had to recover after the last meeting of their minds, when the girl had proven to be much stronger than he had suspected - but he, after all, was the future Dark Lord, and she was an eccentric outcast of a mere first year pupil…

Nothing happened for a moment. Then Luna wrote again. 'What now? I give you your present, of course, silly!'

'And what is that?'

'Well, I recently - and surprisingly - managed to get Professor Snape into a good mood, by giving him one of my home-made rock cakes. I think he was running out of paperweights, actually… But anyway, today I asked him if there was a means of wiping out stains from magical ink. He recommended a ground tincture of a bezoar, mixed with ginger and spirits. So, having made the first preparations, I managed to get one of the headless ghosts in the castle to donate some ectoplasm…'

'Hah, hah… You foolish witch. When Professor Snape said spirits, he meant…'

'Also, my dormitory neighbour Padma Patil was kind enough to lend me some curry sauce mixture that she keeps in her suitcase. She likes Madras, apparently.' After a pause, Luna carried on writing, in her brisk pace.

'There! I've just mixed it all up with hot water from one of the taps here. So, here you go, Tom. Enjoy. Later, I'll show the results of your diary to Professor Flitwick. I think he might even award me house points for identifying who owns the monster that attacked those poor victims!'

Putting her quill down, Luna gave the prepared concoction another stir, then - smiling - she slowly poured the contents of the flask onto the open pages of the diary. The entire mixture was absorbed into the old paper.

More words began to form in the book. This time they made the ends of Luna's lips curl upwards with delight.

'Wh…? What is…curry sauce? Aagghh…! AAGGHH!! IT BURNS!! STOP…! STTOPP ITT…!!'

The pages of the diary began to bubble. A few wisps of smoke even rose from the journal.

Screaming silently in pain, the spirit of Tom Marvolo Riddle lashed out with the last ounce of his power that he was able to summon…

Luna had just packed away the flask into her satchel, when the dot of white light emanated from the open diary. As she turned back round, the light struck her in-between her wide grey eyes. But then the amulet around her neck flashed an identical glowing speck straight back into the book…

You will forget everything about me, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle roared in her mind. You will NOT reveal me to any…anyone… You will…not…

The voice was fading away. But already Luna sensed the memory-modifying charm affecting her. Gasping, Luna changed tactics and flicked her wand, magically opening a window.

With her head throbbing, she slammed the steam-bellowing diary to, and raised it high in her hand - ready to fling it through the open window.

"I…will…remember!" she muttered to herself. "I have…to…to…re-member."

And then, the resident ghost of Moaning Myrtle materialised close to her, but facing away from the other Ravenclaw girl. In fact, her head was sticking out of the toilet seat of the nearest cubicle.

"Eek!"

Startled by the unexpected (and macabre) sight, Luna half-turned towards Myrtle's semi-transparent back. She stumbled in her sudden fright, and tripped over her own feet…

The diary went flying into the open cubicle beyond and dropped straight through Moaning Myrtle's head.

There was an almighty 'splash'. The ghostly girl wailed as toilet water shot up past her face and spectacles. With a shriek, she dived down from sight into the U-bend - and the psychic energy of her grief resulted in an even bigger explosion of water from the toilet seat…

Luna yelped, and quickly scrambled back to avoid the worst of the impromptu shower. Hearing a voice, she grabbed her satchel and ran to the exit door.

"What's going on in there?!?" the loud bellow of the caretaker, Argus Filch, echoed from along the corridor outside.

Knowing of his unpleasant demeanour, Luna swiftly took to her heels, before she could be spotted.

By the time the frightened girl reached the Ravenclaw Common room, Luna had a vague sense she had forgotten something…

Meanwhile, back in the toilet cubicle that Moaning Myrtle had materialised in, the explosion of water caused by the screaming shade had resulted in Tom Riddle's diary being blown clear. The steam now doused by water, the black book floated on the spreading puddle from the cubicle and stopped underneath a nearby grimy sink along the opposite wall.

Inside his diary, the Horcrux-spirit of Riddle was reeling. Luna's concoction had weakened part of his diary - and also her amulet, whilst failing to block his last attack, had absorbed some of his magic and then re-directed it back at him.

In a matter of minutes, the essence of the Heir of Slytherin had retreated deep into the diary to recover. Only, just as everything of Tom Riddle had been wiped from Luna Lovegood's mind, all knowledge of the plucky Ravenclaw had also been purged from Riddle's memory…

"…even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore…"

Argus Filch walked away in disgust from the flood that had now spread to the corridor outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. As he slammed a door to behind him, two second-year boys - Harry Potter and Ron Weasley - entered the bathroom.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her cubicle and said, "Why should I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted… "Here I am, minding my business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"

…

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know…it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out."

Harry and Ron looked under the sink, where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there.

…

Harry, however, pocketed it.

THE END!