Entry 58 – 69: Updates on Riddle's Diary
March 10th: It has taken me a few days to write in Tom's diary, as I had to make sure that I would be uninterrupted in my dorm room, but I've finally managed to do it. This afternoon, Parvarti and Lavender were out at the lake and Hermione had holed herself up in the corner of the library, putting in extra research for a charms essay. None of them would be coming back to the room any time soon, so I took my chance and started to write in the diary. My words disappeared into the pages, but I've had no reply as of yet. I'll try again tomorrow.
March 11th: Still no response. I wonder why Voldemort isn't responding.
March 13th: Five tries later, still nothing.
March 27th: Finally! A week later and Riddle has written back. He seemed confused as to who I was at first, so asked me as many questions as he possibly could. I stopped answering when he asked me about my family. I don't have a convincing enough lie yet. I don't want him to think I'm a muggleborn (meaning he would think less of me and may not think me worthy of talking to him), but I don't want him to think I'm a pureblood either, as he may start trying to convert me to his cause. You never know. It could happen.
April 2nd: I have a problem. Today, I was writing in the diary right before dinner. This made me slightly late, so I was one of the last into the Great Hall. My appearance was met with general gasps, yelps and a horrified draw of breath from George. I was so confused and thought that somehow they had all figured out it was me who took the diary from Harry. That or there was something on my face. The latter option was much closer to the truth than the first.
My eyes were glowing silver.
I can only presume that this was because of the diary. Somehow, it must trigger my soul magic. Maybe it's because the diary is a horcrux, so my magic is reacting to the presence of an out of place soul?
Whether my soul magic was acting up or not, it doesn't change the fact that my friends are very worried about me now. I doubt I'll be able to write in the diary again for another few days because they will try and keep someone with me so they can tell what's triggering the change in my eye colour.
George seemed very distant at dinner. I'd try to talk to him, but he would never look directly at me. Fred kept on shooting him concerned glances and even apologised for him afterwards. Fred never apologises for anything so something really must have been wrong. It was probably my eyes. He reacted badly to them last year as well. Ron said something about a panic attack?
It hurts slightly to think that he would have a problem with them. It almost feels like he has a problem with some part of me. Logically I know that that isn't true – my eyes are how he tells how I'm feeling and he probably links the silver to the time I went missing for days, which explains why he has a problem with them – but my heart doesn't always listen to my head.
In the future, I need to remember to not write in the diary before seeing anyone. It took 30 minutes for my eyes to return back to their usual colour, so I should probably leave a 40 minute window, just to be safe. You know, maybe I should just write once everyone else has gone to sleep.
That won't be easy though. For the past few days I've been getting urges to write at really random times and I can't stop thinking about anything else. Oh well, I can only try.
April 9th: I wrote about my family in the diary. Not just my adoptive family, but my biological family too. Even the Potters made it in there.
I couldn't stop myself from writing the truth. I was able to withhold some information, but something in my head was telling me I couldn't lie. Worst of all, it didn't seem wrong at the time. It felt as if I was just telling a good friend about my family. It was only after that I locked the diary in my trunk that I realised what I had written.
Riddle still asks many questions, which was how I got onto the topic of my family. I told him all about Ruth and David being my adoptive parents and how I had actually been adopted once before. He was very interested in my adoption, especially when I mentioned that the Potters were the first people to adopt me.
It was then that he asked me my blood status.
I couldn't just leave it at being pureblood. Oh no! I had to go and say I was the heir to the Shafiq family. I suppose being a part of the Sacred 28 does add another level to the whole blood purity thing, a level that Riddle would be very interested in.
I think Riddle's got in my head. It would explain why I wrote things that I didn't want to write. It also explains why I have been getting urges to write in the diary. It's not as if I wasn't expecting this to happen. He has to possess me at some point, after all. I actually would have thought that it would have happened before now, but maybe my soul magic is holding him off.
Oh, one more thing. George apologised for reacting badly to my silver eyes. We had a whole heart to heart about it last night. He said that he associates my brown eyes so strongly with me that the silver eyes represent a lack of me, or something along those lines. He can't tell my emotions as easily, so his sub conscience tells him that there's none there, making him think I'm just a shell of myself. He's working on not thinking that, but he sees my silver eyes so little that it's hard to build up a resilience to it. At least, that's paraphrasing what he said. He stuttered a lot more when trying to get his point across, but I think I his point.
In return, I told him about how the silver eyes make me feel. Minus the whole 'it's a MS power' thing. My silver eyes are a link to my biological family. They represent a part of me that I don't understand. I feel like they connect me to biological father in a way nothing else could. But they also scare me. A lot. Because I have no idea how to control my soul magic and I don't know how powerful it could be. What if it overwhelms me and something goes wrong? What if I hurt someone else?
George held me close once I explained this to him, letting me sob into his arms for a few minutes afterwards. We were in a secluded corner of the common room and barely anyone else was about, so thankfully no-one else saw. If they did, they didn't question it.
April 19th: I've been writing in Tom's diary for far more than a month now and I still haven't been possessed. The only things that the diary has managed to do is make me want to write in it, a feeling I can now overcome with a little effort; make me say things that I otherwise may not have said and make me more tired. That last one is probably more down to my lack of sleep than anything else. I've been staying up late to write in the diary, but my body still wants as many hours as it was getting previously. Here's how a normal night goes:
Hermione goes to bed at about 10:00, but then reads for an hour, sometimes two. Parvarti and Lavender go to bed at 11:00, but usually whisper to each other for at least 45 minutes. I then wait for a good half an hour to make sure they're all asleep. This takes me to about 12:15-12:30, depending how long Hermione has read for. I then silently go and get the diary and draw the curtains around my bed so the others don't wake up from my eyes glowing. I lose track of time when writing in the diary, so my time writing in it can range from one to four hours. I then have to wait for my eyes to stop glowing (another half an hour), which is when I tend to write updates in here, and then put the diary back in my trunk. I then get woken up at 6:30 to be ready for breakfast at 7:00. This means I get about 2.5 – 4.5 hours of sleep a night.
Other people have started commenting on how tired I look. Even Lockhart told me I could leave our last evening session early.
Thankfully, the Easter Holidays started last week, so I am getting slightly more sleep at the moment. But it's still not enough and it won't last forever. Lessons start up again next week, so I'm going to try and catch up on as much sleep as possible in the meantime, without making the others even more worried for me than they already are.
April 23rd: I've decided that, as long as I have the diary, I might as well put it to good use. Riddle was a smart (I would say good but it doesn't seem fitting) student when he was at Hogwarts, so tonight I decided to grill him about all the different subjects I could chose to take for OWLs. He was surprisingly helpful about it. He gave me a short summary of the courses and all of their pros and cons. I suppose 16 year old Tom Riddle was a prefect, he was probably used to this sort of thing.
I've also asked Fred and George for their opinions and they also had a very thorough approach to choosing options. For them, it's all about what they need to know to be able to pull off pranks. They don't both need to know the same information, so they split up the options between them. They told me to think about what I enjoy doing the most and how different subjects could relate to that.
Even Cedric Diggory gave me a tip on how to chose when he came to sit with Susan and me in the library. Although, his advice wasn't brilliant. He told me to not listen to what others tell me to do and follow my own heart. I mean, that's great and all, but I wouldn't have been asking for advice if my heart already knew what it wanted to take. I wanted another opinion, but in response I had someone telling me not to listen to others.
He literally told me not to listen to advice while telling me his own advice!
Susan seemed grateful for his help though and I can't begrudge him for trying. It was just too wishy washy for me.
In the end, I decided that I'm going to take Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. I decided these through a mixture of plot avoidance reasons (Divination) and following Fred and George's advice. I enjoy being around animals, making CoMC one of my options and I also knew that there was no point in me taking Muggle Studies as I basically know it all already. That left me with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy so I decided to take both.
I'm actually excited to start these lessons next year. I just have to get past the whole Chamber of Secrets business first.
April 28th: I've still not been possessed. What's taking so long?
May 1st: No possession as of yet and I'm officially exhausted.
May 3rd: That's it. I'm too tired. I actually fell asleep in transfiguration and, let me tell you, Professor McGonagall was not happy. I'm not going to write in the diary for a few days so I can catch up on sleep.
May 7th: I lasted for three days. It took three days before the draw to write in the diary overwhelmed me.
It started off as random moments where I would suddenly get the wish to write to Riddle. After a day, it grew into a constant itch at the back of my head, as if my brain was telling me I was missing something vital. By this morning it was all I could think about. I couldn't concentrate in lessons. I can't remember eating breakfast or lunch. It got so bad that I couldn't fall asleep during History of Magic and actually ran out of the classroom half way through the lesson just to go and write. Not that anybody but Hermione noticed, as everybody else was daydreaming or sleeping.
I don't know how long I spent writing. I can't remember what I was writing. I do remember being annoyed as I was doing it though. It was like the feeling you get when someone keeps on trying to do something that you really don't want them to do. You know you can easily stop them, but the very fact that they keep on doing it is annoying.
The only reason I remember feeling this way is because it was the last thought I had before Parvarti walked into our dorm room. Of course, being in the trance I was, I had not taken any precautions when it came to writing in the dairy. I was right in the open. So, when Parvarti came into the room she looked directly into my (silver) eyes and launched forward, grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the door. She shouted down the stairs, telling whoever was down there that I was in the dorm.
It was then that Neville started to step on the stairs, trying to come up to see if I was okay. The staircase turned into a slide and Parvarti and I came crashing down, landing in a heap at the bottom, Parvarti onto of me. She quickly got up off of the floor, but I wanted to stay laying face down for as long as possible. I didn't want people to know my eyes were silver.
I lay there for about a minute, people crowding around me and wondering why I was still laying on the floor. Dean and Seamus decided that they were going to try and pick me up, in response to which I slammed my eyes closed. I put up quite a struggle when they leant down to pick me up, but it was all for nothing when Ron decided to help.
Ron carried me over to the sofas and gently placed me down. I felt the sofa sag under the weight of someone who sat next to me. Harry whispered in my ear, asking what was wrong. By this point, Parvarti had got fed up with me being stubborn.
"Her eyes are glowing silver again." She stated bluntly.
There was no point in me trying to hide it anymore, I slowly opened my eyes to see Ron and Hermione knelt in front of me with Harry sat at my side.
Instantly my year mates surrounding me were in uproar, trying to figure out why my eyes were glowing once again. Parvarti spoke up for a second time.
"She was writing in a book. Really focused on it. It was like she was coming out of her own little world when she saw me walk into the room."
"Her journal? But she writes in that all the time. Especially around George and he would be used to her eyes glowing silver by now if they glowed every time she wrote in that." Hermione countered, shooting me an apologetic look for bringing up George's uncomfortable nature.
"Yeah, we should probably tell him to stay out of the common room for a while, huh?" I tried to change the topic at the same time Parvarti disagreed with Hermione, telling her I was writing in something else.
"Was it this one? It was laying on her bed." Lavender's voice rang from the top of the stairs, waving a small, black book in her hands. Riddle's diary.
My eyes went straight to Harry, who was staring at me with a look of utter betrayal. I had to look down.
"It was you? You stole the diary?" Harry's voice cracked. His hurt was as plain as day. But it was his anger that started to become the most evident of all his emotions. His broken tone quickly shifted into shouts as it dawned on him the amount of times I lied about the diary within the past two months.
He kept on shouting for what felt like an eternity while I kept my head down, fully deserving Harry's anger. Tears were streaming down my face, caused by a mixture of shame, guilt and hurt at Harry's words.
I never thought I'd hear my brother question whether or not he could trust me anymore.
It also didn't help that my mind was arguing with itself, part of it screaming at me to grab the diary and write in it again and half trying to drown those thoughts out with white noise. The feeling grew louder the closer the diary got to me, so I scrambled down the sofa when Lavender got closer to me with it, backing into Hermione. She didn't seem to know what to do herself, the lost expression I caught on her face told me all I needed to know. She was conflicted as whether to comfort me, her friend in sobbing tears, or support Harry who was obviously in the right in this situation.
It was at the point that Fred and George entered the room. People had been streaming into the common room for a while, a few choosing to ignore the loud group of second years, but most choosing to crowd around us, obstructing the view of people walking in to what was going on and who was fighting. Of course, Fred and George were in that first group, fighting their way to the front of the crowd to see what was going on. I can only imagine that they thought they would find whatever was going on amusing. Sadly for them, they didn't.
It was Fred's utterance of 'Em?' that made me look up at the two of them from my position next to Hermione. I saw George flinch at the sight of my (still) silver eyes but he pulled himself together after a moment.
"What are you doing Harry? Can't you see she's crying?" George screamed at Harry, making his way towards me and wrapping him arms around my body as best he could. It must have been a hard job, as I was hugging my legs tightly to myself, huddling as far into the sofa as possible.
"She was the one who took this! It was my one lead!" Harry snatched the diary out of Lavender's hand in response, moving closer to George to wave it in his face.
George yelled something back at Harry, but I couldn't quite discern what. The argument in my head had just got louder as the diary grew closer and closer. With Harry holding it right in front of my face in order to show it to George, the thoughts grew unbearable. I'm pretty sure I started to shout my thoughts out loud, because somehow the others knew to get the diary away from me. I looked over at George, the sole person that was willing to comfort me at that moment, only to see that his body was slightly lit silver.
My eyes were glowing brighter than ever before.
Thankfully, this shine slowly dimmed as the diary moved further and further away, into a waiting Percy Weasley's hands. I had no clue when he had got there, but he was sending the massive crowd away as Hermione explained to him what was happening. It took me a little while to get my bearings and George was refusing to let me go, moving me into an easier position for him to wrap his arms around.
Soon, Percy had decided what he was going to do. He was going to take me to the hospital wing along with George and Hermione (Ron staying behind to talk things through with Harry) to see if anything was wrong with me to make my eyes grow silver. He was going to send the diary to McGonagall with someone else. Apparently, students are more important than objects, and it was his duty to see that I was okay before turning over an object.
Now, this would have been bad in and of itself. If McGonagall had the diary then no-one would get possessed, Harry would never learn about Tom Riddle being the same as Voldemort and the basilisk would never be slain. But then the situation became even worse.
Percy called over Ginny to take the diary to McGonagall.
I started to shout in protest, only this time in full control over what I was saying. Heads snapped towards me again, with George trying to calm me down again. Yet no-one listened to what I was saying. If anything, Percy was hurrying Ginny up, trying to get her to leave as soon as possible. I felt slightly bad for her, a look of alarm on her face flashed over her face when Percy first called for her, although this turned strangely blank when she held the diary.
She left a few minutes before our group left for the hospital wing. Of course, Madame Pomfrey found nothing wrong with me apart from a severe lack of sleep. I wasn't really able to catch up on my lost sleep as I had wanted, my mind too focused on the diary to let me get any rest. Pomfrey told the others to make sure I went directly to my dorm and made Hermione promise to make sure I didn't leave. As if I would want to come out and face the staring crowds in the common room anyway.
I highly doubt that Ginny has taken the diary to McGonagall, meaning that everything I have done has been for naught. My friends worrying over me has been for naught. Harry being angry at me is all for naught.
People have come to the conclusion that somehow I wasn't fully in control of my actions when taking the diary (which I was) as my soul magic was acting out in response to it. But I still lied to Harry over it, giving him every right in the world to still be upset with me. I would feel the same way.
This will put Ron and Hermione in a bit of a weird position and I'm not sure how this is going to pan out. Hermione has sat in our dorm with me the whole afternoon and evening, making sure that I was never alone. I've told her that I don't want to get in between her and Harry, but she brushed me off and said that we'll work it out.
A few other people have come to visit me: the girls from the Quidditch team, some of Ginny's first year friends and Parvarti and Lavender decided to stay with Hermione and I from dinner onwards, the four of us getting house elves to bring dinner to our room. Fred and George also came up on their brooms, Ron sitting on the back of George's. He said that Harry was getting changed for Quidditch practice and that, while it wasn't cool that I lied, he wasn't angry with me. Neither is Harry anymore apparently, he's just really hurt.
I don't think I can face him within the next few days, though. But the Quidditch match tomorrow means that I must.
5 minutes after the Weasley boys left, Oliver came barging in on his broom, ranting about how I can't miss the last Quidditch practice before the game again. It was then that he clocked Parvarti's presence in the room, nervously chuckled, turned and fled. Surprisingly, Parvarti stayed calm and told us 'one minute' as she strolled out of the door. Hermione and I turned to Lavender, who put up one hand and counted down with her fingers. As soon as she put her fifth finger down, we heard the sound of Parvarti's voice as clear as day, soon followed by Oliver's yelps. Obviously, I didn't have to go to Quidditch practice.
I hate writing speech in this format. It just seems so unrealistic that someone would remember whole conversations word for word (especially when they obviously wouldn't have been concentrating 100%), but it was necessary in this case to properly show what happened in the argument. So forgive me any parts of this chapter that my seem a bit like a plot hole? I am aware of them but can't tell the story without putting them there. Thanks x