The Mysterious Diary
Harry and Sadie arrived at King's Cross station early to catch the Hogwarts Express. They wouldn't leave for an hour, but already their trunks were loaded. Theo arrived shortly afterwards and the trio claimed a prime compartment for their little clique. Harry collapsed into his seat with a sigh of relief.
Sadie sat herself on a seat. Since she was so small and thin, Chip and Dennis the kitten were able to share the seat.
Theo reached into his trunk and extracted a book. He curled up in his seat with the thing, and a look of contentment settled on his face.
"What're you reading, Theo?" asked Sadie interested.
"Lenora de la Croix. Now shush," said Theo.
Harry wasn't sure who that author was, but apparently her life story was completely absorbing to Theo.
Sadie pulled a yellowed comic from her bag and set it in front of Chip. "Look Chip. You say you always liked the Beano? Here…" she rifled through the pages. "The Bash Street Kids. Look at this – the Head's cutting school funds so the Bash Street Kids all have to write on one sheet of paper with no light or heating in the classroom, while the Head sits in his office with caviar and champagne…"
Theo looked up. "Can you not go on about that Muggle rubbish? I'm trying to read."
Chip held the comic. The purple homonculus' face was hidden by a paper mask with a smiley face drawn on it. "The Bash Street Kids are funny, Theo. Bash Street School is strange… like Hogwarts."
"Yes, I suppose Hogwarts is equally strange to Muggles," said Sadie.
"You'd know all about strange," remarked Theo.
Sadie glanced furtively around and took out a worn library book – was it from the Nott's library? – and wrapped it in a schmaltzy vampire/witch romance aimed at twelve year old girls, so that it would look as though she were reading that instead. Harry was about to retrieve his own light reading, Seeker Tactics, when a tapping at the glass startled him. It was an eagle owl, holding a roll of parchment in his talons. The bird squeezed through the open window and dropped it in Harry's lap. Harry held out an owl treat as reward. The owl crunched it down in two quick bites and flew away as Harry read his letter.
It was from Flint. "'Dear team,'" it began. "'A family situation has arisen, and I am unable to return to Hogwarts this year. In my absence, I name Miles as team captain. Be strong, win, and don't leave my name off the Quidditch Cup.'" Harry could barely believe what he was reading. "'Up Slytherin, Marcus.'"
"Oh no!" Sadie looked up, her green face crinkling in worry. "I really hope they're alright."
Theo had looked up from his book as well. "Doesn't that just foul things up, with the Quidditch?"
"I do wonder what the family emergency is," Harry pondered. "It must be serious, if he's not coming back to school."
"I know, I know," said Sadie grimacing and shaking her head so that her dyed hair rippled and bounced.
"He'll have to repeat his seventh year," Theo noted. "
"He's our best Chaser, no contest," said Harry. "And he's a captain who won't stand nonsense from even the roughest boys. I don't know how we can replace him."
"Replace who?" Millie asked as she sprawled on the seat next to Harry. "Hullo, Sadie, Theo."
"Heyy," grinned Sadie, touching her arm.
"Hi, Millie," said Theo, not looking up.
"Flint," Harry answered her. "He's skiving off the rest of the year."
"Skiving?"
"Noo!" said Sadie. "It's a family crisis."
"Poor Flint," said Millie, tutting. "So, Warrington finally gets to play, huh?"
" He's our top reserve Chaser. I can't imagine that Miles would fill Flint's position with anyone else."
"Yes, but you're not Bletchley."
"Well of course not."
Harry and Millie began debating the finer points of Chaser tactics, a discussion that lasted several hours and the other Slytherins arrived one by one and got roped into the conversation. With the uncertainty coming from a change in captain, there would be a greater onus on Harry to win games.
"Sounds like they're gonna put a lot of pressure on you," said Sadie to Harry. "Quidditch – it's nothing but stress."
"You're bitter because you couldn't play to save your life," drawled Draco.
"Don't talk to my girl like that?" said Tracy, glaring at Draco. She leaned down and kissed the top of Sadie's head.
"What is this Quidditch, Mummy?" asked Chip. "You said before that you don't like it."
"You don't like Quidditch?" said Draco. "You don't know you're born."
"It – um - it creates so much division between the houses," said Sadie, shifting on her seat and looking uncomfortable.
The trolley witch came by at that point.
"Hello! I don't remember you!" said Chip. "But I'm happy to meet you. Mummy always says to be kind to strangers."
The trolley witch did not seem weirded out by Chip. "Anything from the trolley, dear?" she said. That's what she said to everyone.
"Now, Chip. You may have one pack of candy," said Sadie. "Remember, don't eat too much candy. Every flavour beans are the most interesting."
Sadie bought a small pack of every flavour beans and put them on her lap, sorting through them. "These all look fine for you to try, except this one," she picked up a glowing white bean. "I'd better eat this one in case it's too gross for you." She chewed on it. "Mm. Ectoplasm. Tasty."
Millie brought out a deck of cards at that point. She dealt out a hand to everyone and started the game off. Theo promptly folded and went back to his book. He didn't get quiet in the carriage though, with the exclamations from the card players and Sadie loudly talking to Chip about candy and letting her clean his mouth.
Harry started on his Seeker book. He would need every Seeker trick he could learn in order to help his team win. By the time the train finally lumbered into Hogsmeade station, Harry felt restless enough that he wanted to grab his broom and play a pick-up game right then. Several of the manoeuvres in the book seemed brilliant, and he wanted to test them out.
"If only Weasley played Quidditch," he said regretfully as he packed away his book.
"Got some new tricks, have you?" Daphne asked.
"Hopefully."
New tricks were exactly what Harry needed. With Miles now team captain, they drilled every day, even stealing the pitch from Gryffindor on one occasion. Warrington caught on fast. He became a very aggressive player almost on Flint's level. Miles slowly moulded his Chasers into a unified offensive force, with Bole and Derrick providing counter-defensive support.
Their next match was six weeks away, and only against Hufflepuff, but Miles acted as though they were playing Gryffindor in only two days. He took his new responsibility very seriously and worked the team like a slave driver. Harry and the others grumbled about it, chalking it up to some sort of rare disease that only infected Quidditch captains, but they all understood the necessity.
00O00
The Quidditch match approached with a charged atmosphere. No one thought about House Unity anymore. Almost no one came to Hogwarts Togetherness that month. Harry only came out of loyalty to Sadie.
"No one wants to make the effort," said Tracy nonchalantly, examining her pink painted nails. "Even that Hermione Granger thinks she's too good to come now, apparently."
"This is so stupid," said Sadie, looking close to tears. "How can everyone getting on be a bad thing?"
"I know, dear," said Professor Charity Burbage, the Professor in charge, putting an arm around the small girl's shoulders.
"It's the Heir of Slytherin business," said Lucas.
"That does indeed reignite historic tensions between the houses," said Charity.
Chip put his stumpy arms around Sadie's leg. "Don't be sad, Mummy. I'll still come."
"Yes, honey, you will," said Sadie, picking him up and kissing his smiley mask.
00O00
Sadie's birthday was in January, and Harry got her a special globe of the moon with a distortion lens. One that distorted moonlight for Dark purposes when it was the full Moon. He had asked Lucius Malfoy about such things and they had arranged for it to be sent from Knockturn Alley. Apparently Lucius knew the owner of a Dark items shop quite well.
Sadie hugged and kissed him in thanks. "You're so sweet and thoughtful," she cooed.
Tracey had got her a jar of dark creature eyeballs and Pansy a weird perfume.
"Eau de decay, or something like that," said Pansy smirking. "I think it's for vampire ladies, actually."
Sadie sprayed some on her hand and tested it. "That's the sickly sweet scent of decay… I like it!"
The mood of the castle improved a little. Everyone began to wonder if the threat from the Heir of Slytherin had passed. Lockhart was heard to boast that he had apprehended the culprit behind all the attacks, slain the beast, and managed not to get his perfect hair disshevelled.
Harry personally didn't believe a word of it. His doubt was to prove well-founded on Sunday the 31st. Harry was writing a Potions assignment when he and his mates heard a commotion in the hall. As they investigated, the milling crowd drew them to the common room.
"There's been another attack," said Morgana the Head Girl, her face pale. "Emily Cox, a sixth year Hufflepuff. Thankfully she's not dead. Only petrified."
There was a sudden hubbub. "Ssh!" said Morgana, glaring at them. "I'm instituting the following rules: no Slytherin is to even so much as visit the loo by him or herself. Travel in groups of at least three people. There will also be a curfew imposed: nobody leaves the dorm after dinner without the knowledge and permission of a prefect."
That last rule evoked angry protests. Morgana glared and they all fell silent. "This is for our own protection! If we're not careful, one of us could be used as a scapegoat."
Still not pleased, the students drifted back to their respective dorms. Harry sat back down to finish his Potions homework. He didn't feel like talking; it would just be the same points raised yet again. Nobody had anything new to add. The knowledge that he, Harry, was suspected by much of the school was frustrating. Even on a night such as this night, when he had a rock-solid alibi, there were those like Weasley who would say that his friends were just covering up for him.
A shame that the Heir won't attack a pure-blood. Weasley would make a fantastic statue.
"What are you grinning about?" Theo asked.
"Just picturing Weasley being turned to stone."
"Is that your next plan?" Crabbe asked brightly.
"Not my plan," Harry clarified.
"It would improve Weasley no end," Draco agreed.
00O00
Emily's petrification had consequences Harry did not anticipate. The second year Slytherins were in Potions lecture when the door slammed open with a bang! All eyes snapped to the back of the room where Jamie Davis slumped against the door frame. Her hair was dishevelled, her face was red, and her chest was rising and falling as she breathed heavily.
"Professor!" she gasped. "Maddy needs help! Lockhart says she's the Heir of Slytherin!"
Snape's eyes narrowed.
"Take over here."
Snape strode purposefully from the classroom, his black robes flowing like the wings of some avenging bat. The gleam in his eyes and the set of his jaw said that he had finally had enough of Lockhart. Yes! Harry thought.
At the back, Jamie was hunched over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. When she straightened up and walked down the aisle to Snape's desk, her face was still flushed; evidently she'd gone from Herbology to the dungeons at a dead run.
"What was Professor Snape lecturing about?" she asked as she scanned the chalkboard. She glanced down at Snape's notes.
"He was about to let us leave early," said Tracy.
"Not likely," Jamie retorted. "Raise your hand if you want to speak."
"He'd just got done with lobridoon," Weasley informed Jamie. "He was just mentioning the next topic when you came charging in."
"Five points from Gryffindor for not raising your hand, Weasley, as I just instructed," Jamie glowered at him. "What is it with Gryffindors not being able to follow simple instructions? Lines, Weasley, two hundred of them: 'I will obey the Hogwarts prefects,' to be turned in to me by the end of the week."
Even with Snape not present, Weasley still got in trouble. His face flushed an ugly red, and he ducked his head. Jamie's eyes were hard as stone as she made sure he was done.
"Very well, the professor's notes indicate that he planned to discuss doxwood. Doxwood is a plant commonly found in Ireland. It looks like this." The prefect waved her wand and created an illusion. "Note the funny-looking leaves. Now then, the raw doxwood is good for aiding the digestion. The juice, extracted in the common fashion, is of great use in the brewing of potions because it causes a more rapid absorption effect. This can be important for certain potions that take time to have an effect, such as the Impervious Potion."
Jamie conducted the lecture with an efficiency that Snape would have found admirable. She was a smart girl, Harry knew. She hadn't been named a prefect for her happy smile. The class was very nearly ordinary. Snape's cool influence was obvious in the manner in which Jamie delivered the material. She even asked several questions to test them, and she awarded points for correct answers, docking them for mistakes.
Snape returned shortly before the end of the class. He slipped silently through the door and stood at the back, watching Jamie teach. Harry noticed the man only because he was reaching for his quill sharpener at the time. Jamie noticed him, of course, but, to her credit, she didn't let it distract her. She lectured right up to the bell.
"One and a half feet on the properties of doxwood. Include three examples of potions where you believe doxwood juice to of use and defend your reasoning," Snape called out over the noise as students hurried to put away quills, ink, and texts. Harry loitered outside the classroom.
"Miss Davis, I was most pleased with your lecture," said Snape.
"Thank you, Sir." Jamie beamed. "There was one mouthy Gryffindor, but they were pretty well-behaved overall. The Slytherins were angels, of course."
"Of course. Twenty points to Slytherin for outstanding performance under unexpected circumstances."
"Thank you, sir," she repeated. "How's Maddy? Is everything well?"
Snape's self-satisfied smile spoke volumes. "Miss Fitzjean has gone to an early lunch. I expect she's waiting for you."
"And Lockhart?" Jamie asked distastefully. "Please tell me you killed him."
The teacher chuckled briefly. "Not that I didn't consider it," he admitted. "There can be no excuse for his behaviour."
"What did you do?"
"I'm afraid that's a matter left between teachers," he gently admonished.
Jamie grinned. "Yes, sir," she said, rising up on her toes and clicking her heels together. She left the dungeon classroom with a spring in her step.
"Mister Potter, eavesdropping is a bad habit," Snape called out reprovingly.
Harry jumped. How the deuce did Snape know? He rolled around the corner and back into the room.
"Sorry, Sir."
"Is there any particular reason you are loitering outside my classroom?"
"I just wanted to hear what you did to Lockhart," Harry said candidly. "I really don't like that git."
Snape's lips twitched. "I believe you. I'm sure the story will be all over the school even before the day is out."
00O00
It was time for Slytherin to face Hufflepuff on a cold, wintery pitch.
Harry felt no butterflies at all as he took a warm-up lap. The team had worked so hard since coming back from holiday, there was no doubt that they would win. They had prepared as much as humanly possible, and they were the best team at Hogwarts. Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, waved cheekily at him as they crossed paths. Harry found such mirth disconcerting and highly inappropriate. Hufflepuff was destined to be flattened today, and this fool could only grin like an idiot.
Slytherin took first possession, naturally, and Pucey, Montague, and Warrington went tearing down the pitch. They passed the Quaffle back and forth with a quickness, never giving the Hufflepuff Chasers a chance to intercept. Pucey faked twice, and Warrington sent the Quaffle through the lowest hoop for the points.
"Slytherin scores the first goal," announcer Lee Jordan dispassionately told the crowd. "Ten points."
Harry cheered with the sea of green and silver as he whipped a quick spiral. "Go, Warrington!"
Hufflepuff passed the Quaffle back out to the Chasers and promptly lost it again, as the Slytherin Beaters bashed the Bludgers in their direction. Harry was relieved to see that both iron balls were acting normally again.
Harry tore his gaze from the game; he knew perfectly well how outstanding his team was. It was his responsibility to find and catch that Snitch. He scanned the pitch from end to end.
"Slytherin scores again," Jordan announced. "The score is now twenty to zero. Come on, Hufflepuff, show some life out there!"
It was nice to see that Jordan's personal feelings would not colour his commentary. Where was that Snitch?
Harry absently dodged a Bludger and watched Pucey and Montague soar by, tossing the Quaffle between them. One of the Hufflepuff Chasers took a dive at Pucey, hoping to knock him out of the way and intercept the ball.
"Harry!" Montague shouted - and he lobbed the Quaffle to the Seeker!
This was a trick Harry had discovered in Seeker Tactics. While there was a rule that only the Chasers and Keepers could handle the Quaffle, there was nothing against what Harry now did.
Harry lined up his manoeuvre carefully and then spun in the air, using the tail of his broom just like a bat! The Quaffle gave a resounding smack and flew directly into Warrington's waiting hands. He was down the pitch and had sent the ball through the middle hoop before Hufflepuff's Keeper could react.
"Warrington scores for Slytherin on the assist from Potter," Jordan said. "I'm sure that's illegal, but there's no call from Madam Hooch. There should be, but there isn't. Thirty-nothing, Slytherin."
"Good man, Harry!" Bletchley shouted downfield. "Find the Snitch!"
"Aye, aye, Captain!" Harry wagged back. Once the golden ball came out of hiding, it would be in his hand.
"And Diggory takes off like a shot!" Jordan crowed. "He must have seen the Snitch!"
"Potter!" Bletchley screamed.
Harry pointed his broom towards Diggory and leaned forward with a zoom. His eyes scanned vigilantly all around, but he couldn't see the Snitch! Diggory looked back over his shoulder, no doubt checking to see how close Harry was. Then he grinned and turned front again as Harry closed in.
Diggory dove! Harry swore and dove after him. They were fairly high up, the two Seekers, but that ground was coming up awful quick. All of a sudden Diggory broke off, yanking the shaft of his broom up sharply and climbing away.
It was a fake! Harry was only metres from eating a dirt sandwich! He hauled back on his broom, but he wasn't going to level out in time! He had only seconds! Harry braced his heels on the tail of his Nimbus 2000, pulling himself nearly vertical. He felt a bone-jarring thud as the butt of the broom connected with the ground. Hundreds of thin, delicate twigs snapped with a sound like a thousand eggs cracking. His entire body shook with the shock, and he barely stayed on the broom. Wobbly as gelatin, he climbed back into the sky.
"Potter falls victim to the Wronski Feint!" Jordan exulted. "How's that dirt taste, Potter?"
Before he left Hogwarts, Harry decided, Jordan had to be dealt with.
Harry's prized broom was severely damaged. More than half the tail twigs were broken right off, and the rest were all bent. The broom listed to the left now, and it had suffered in the area of speed. He couldn't accelerate as rapidly, and the top speed was slower than specification.
"You miserable sod!" he shouted angrily at Diggory. "My broom's gone wonky!"
"All's fair, Potter!" Diggory hollered back. "And that was for Emily!"
Diggory's accusation struck Harry like a smack across the face. He snarled something unintelligible and flew away.
"All right, Harry?" Bole asked.
"Diggory broke my broom and said disgusting things!" spat Harry.
"I'll get him!"
Bole flew up a few metres and caught the zooming Bludger as it approached. He soared down close to Diggory, tossed the iron ball up, and swung his bat ferociously. Diggory, unaware that a Bludger was in such close proximity, caught the blow in the back of his head and took a tumble.
Harry winced at the sight as Diggory slipped from his broom and landed in a heap on the grass and didn't move.
"And Diggory is down!" Jordan announced. "We need a medic on the field! Penalty shot to Hufflepuff."
"All's fair!" Bole called as he flew over Diggory's crumpled form.
"And Hufflepuff misses the penalty shot. With their Seeker down, is there any way that Hufflepuff can eke out a victory today?"
Not if Harry had anything to say about it. He peered down the pitch, eyes straining. The Snitch had better come out to play soon, or Harry was likely to grow irritated.
"Pucey takes a hit from a Bludger and drops the Quaffle," Jordan prattled on. "Hufflepuff recovers- goal! Hufflepuff scores!"
Harry scowled. He glared at Jordan and - stared. Fluttering along the railing at the top of the stands - was the Snitch!
"Potter is speeding directly towards the announcement booth," Jordan said, a touch of emotion finally entering his voice.
The Snitch, finally aware that it had been sighted, zoomed away with Harry hot on its tail. The rest of the world fell away from him; there was nothing else except the winged, golden ball. Even on a damaged broom, Harry felt almost casual as he reached out to pluck the prize from the air. Then he stopped, hard, whistling in the air as he pulled to a halt inches from Jordan's nose.
"That's the match," Harry said casually into the microphone, dropping the golden ball in the startled announcer's lap.
"Potter catches the Snitch," Jordan said with disgust. "Slytherin wins."
The stands erupted with Slytherin cheers.
"Good show, Harry!" Bletchley congratulated him. "Did you know you're bleeding?"
"What?" Harry touched his face. Sure enough, his fingers came away red.
"Better get yourself up to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey check you out."
"My broom," Harry sighed, able to take note of the damage for the first time.
"I think it might be thrashed," Bole said sympathetically.
"It might be fixable," Derrick argued.
The team fell into a discussion of whether Harry's broom was fixable, and if so, how much it would cost. Harry himself took Bletchley's advice and headed for the hospital wing.
"Madam Pomfrey?" he said as he opened the door.
"She's not here." A girl's voice replied. Ginny Weasley was putting sheets on the beds.
"Where'd she go?"
"To place an order for some tea, I think. She doesn't exactly talk to me other than to give orders."
"That's right, you've still got detention," Harry remembered.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Only until Valentine's Day, thank Merlin."
"Don't expect any sympathy from me," Harry directed her. "After what you lot did, you should have been expelled."
"I told you before, it wasn't my idea," she said peevishly. "I just got dragged along."
"I'm just glad there was one Weasley who really knew the difference between right and wrong," he needled her.
Ginny sighed. "Now listen…"
At just that moment, Madam Pomfrey returned to the hospital wing. "Ah, Mister Potter. That's a splendid cut on your cheek, and quite a remarkable bruising on your forehead as well. Been playing at Quidditch, have you? Well, from the smile on your face, I'd say you deem the victory worth it, no?"
"Yes, ma'am," he grinned. Was their victory that obvious on his face?
"Miss Weasley, why are the beds not all made yet? Well, perhaps when you finally finish with that you can bring up the bucket and scrub the floors again."
Ginny grimaced at Harry, but wordlessly set back to making up the beds.
Sadie came bursting in at that moment, carrying Chip in a baby carrier. Chip was bigger, so the small girl was staggering under the weight.
"That match was awful," said Sadie, her high voice quivering. "When you almost crashed…" She paused, clutching at the stitch in her chest.
"I don't think I like Quidditch either, Mummy," piped Chip. "Why can't wizards play football instead?"
"You'd better not have any horrible bouquets this time," warned Madame Pomfrey.
"No, Madam," said Sadie, shaking her head so that her purple hair rippled and bounced. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can help by keeping quiet and leaving me to it," said Madam Pomfrey.
Harry tried not to flinch as Madam Pomfrey efficiently cleaned up his cuts and bruises. When she finally sent him on his way, he was blinking back tears from all the stinging.
Sadie gritted her teeth in sympathy and took him by the hand, leading him by the shortest routes she knew. There was celebrating to be done in the Slytherin common room. At the second floor, they turned down the main corridor. Harry couldn't help but glance down the dark corridor.
"That's where the writing on the wall appeared. The writing which said the Chamber's open. It's still there. Filch and Mum can't move it and I suppose the teachers just can't be bothered."
"Maybe it's left as a warning that there's a villain on the loose?" said Sadie.
"Is the puddle left for that reason?" wondered Harry.
"No, there's more water coming from there," said Sadie, pointing towards a lavatory door.
It was a girl's loo. The water could clearly be heard now, flowing from one of the toilets. Piteous wails and cries came from the stall.
Sadie started forward into the loo. "Are you alright?"
Harry followed her in case she was going to do something dumb. He realised that it must be Moaning Myrtle. He'd heard some of the older students mention her once as the punchline of a joke. She haunted a bathroom, he remembered, and never stopped sobbing.
Myrtle was the ghost of a plump girl, probably a year older than Harry and Sadie.
"Of course I'm not alright!" snapped Myrtle. "Someone thought it funny to throw a book at me!"
"Aw." Sadie tutted in sympathy.
"Everyone makes fun of me. Fat Myrtle, ugly Myrtle…"
"I don't think you're ugly," said Sadie.
"Nor do I," said Harry, quickly following her example.
"Then you're the only ones," said Myrtle sulkily.
"Lo, Myrtle!" squeaked Chip, waving at her from his baby carrier.
Harry noticed the book on the floor. He picked it up gingerly. How odd. The book was as dry as a bone. "The diary of T. M. Riddle," he read off the cover. Now why did that name ring a bell?
"A diary?" said Sadie.
"Look where it's turned up. It must be a clue."
Harry felt compelled to take the diary with him. They quickly returned to the Slytherin complex and went down to Harry's dorm, where they sat on his bed, trying to think of ways to make it reveal its secrets, but to no avail.
"Is magic hard, Mummy?" Chip wanted to know.
"Yes, hon," said Sadie. "It certainly can be. But maybe this is just an ordinary diary."
Draco and Theo came in.
"Draco, Theo, good. Come here. I've found a clue."
"A clue, you say? To what?"
"To the Heir of Slytherin." Harry briefly explained how they'd found the diary.
"Very out of place," Draco agreed. "It's telling you nothing?"
"Right. Frankly, it's starting to irritate me."
Draco examined the little book. "Look here," he said.
Harry looked. Stamped on the back was the name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London. "Riddle was Muggle-born. He had to have been."
"He couldn't have been," Theo objected. "Riddle was a Slytherin prefect fifty years ago. He won numerous awards, became Head Boy, and was generally a smashing chap."
"So he could have been Muggle Born," argued Sadie.
"Fifty years ago?" Harry echoed. "Draco, didn't your dad say that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened before?"
"Yes, fifty years ago." Draco seemed curious. "You think they're somehow connected?"
"Ohh!" said Sadie. "Maybe. Otherwise it's too coincidental."
"Why else would I have found his diary?" Harry demanded. "Especially right there at the wall with the writing on it. Riddle was a Slytherin prefect, right? Riddle could know everything, and he'll tell us because we're Slytherins."
Theo dug into his trunk and pulled out what appeared to be a big red eraser. "My Revealer should do the trick," he said, rubbing hard on the date of the first page.
But it did not, and neither did any other trick that they tried. Finally they gave it up and went back to the celebration of Slytherin's win over Hufflepuff.