TW: WARNING WARNING ADULT LANGUAGE AND BAD THOUGHTS. DONT LIKE DON'T READ


Okay so these next two chapter will cover the entirety of Atria's second year at Hogwarts and i really hope you like these chapters. I have posted this chapter twice and deleted them twice because I realised they where not exactly where I wanted them to be. So hopefully I do not delete them again after some mental breakdown. These next two chapters will not be happy, nor does the year end well. So I am so soo so so so so sorry for what i am about to do to Atria. But Character development.


1992


August 31st

Atria walked to her room through the hallways of Malfoy manor. While some children would be delighted to live in such a large and magnificent home, Atria found it could be lonely when occupied with only four people. It was simply to much space for a small number of people, finding someone inside was like finding an ant in a feild. So as she walked trying to find her cousin, it was only obvious she would stumble upon something completely different.

"Atria come here," the intimidating call came from her uncle's office beyond the open door.

She froze at his voice but knew there was use in ignoring him, it would only draw more attention to herself than needed. So she turned to the heavy black doors.

She walked slowly into the office door where her uncle sat perched in his armchair, cigar in hand.

"Uncle," she said bowing her head in respect for the head of the family.

He eyed the small girl, his eyes filled with dark intentions and an even darker plan.

"Dobby!" he demanded and a small aparation signalled the smallest house elves arrival.

Dobby stood on shaky legs, trembling under her uncle's gaze as he swayed back and forth, "yes master," he answered, his voice flinching at the word.

"Get the diary," was Lucius harsh demand.

The house elf vanished from the room before reappearing a few moments later, in his hands a small book.

He stumbled over the Lucius who watched the snivelling creature with cold eyes, and a growl of disgust escaped him as the small elf tripped on a piece of carpet. He held it out to her uncle, and he ripped it from the house elf's grasp making Dobby let out a terrified squeak before backing away slowly.

"Now go, polish something," Lucius said dismissively, his gaze stuck on the diary with sick and obsessive eyes as Dobby left the two sorcerers in the room.

He held it up observing it for himself before his eyes lifted to Atria menacingly, holding the book out for her.

Atria stared at the diary, confused by his actions. Her birthday had already been so it couldn't be a present. But still, She took it cautiously in her hand.

"What is it?" She asked eying the black book.

Lucius smiled at her but not a smile of love one usually shared between a child and guardian but one of evil intentions. Atria was just simply too young to understand the difference.

"A very powerful object," He said placing his hand over the book in her hand. "One that I'm intrusting to you with a task."

He watched her curious eyes with a knowing expression on his face as she flicked through the empty pages of the book.

"I do not know what it will be, but I know that soon enough this book's power will reveal itself to you and you will listen to it whatever it may be. You listen, and you act upon ot no matter the outcome."

No matter the outcome. What was that supposed to mean?

"Come here," He said holding out a hand to her. She moved forward so she was standing even closer to the seated man. He took one of her small hands in his and ran his thumb over the ivory skin on the back of her hand. "Your blood is precious, every drop is the envy of our society and that is because of its resilience. It has remained clean from all impurity, it has stood the test of time from the hardships of your forefather going back 500 hundred years, even longer. " His proud words took a violent turn quickly turning sour and his words became acid," and there are those who are not worthy who try to steal the power your blood possesses."

"Muggleborns," Atria guessed.

"Mudbloods," he corrected her, "the fowl lowlife creatures of our world."

He lent back a little in his chair, looking up at her with a wistful look before explaining in great detail to Atria the sinister nature of a Muggleborn.

"Think of a muggle as a rat. If one bothers your home, you set a trap and the problem is solved the rat is dumb it smells food from a mile away none the wiser to the poison that rests with it. But rats are still dangerous, they scurry around taking what they need out of selfishness. A muggle like a rat is just another pest which plagues our world one that is easily squished like an insect under a boot. But let's say one day the rat thinks and then the rat talks. The rat claims the same rights and privileges of our people even though it is a rat. And then, as all rats do, they breed until there are more of them then there are of us. And the hierarchy slowly but surly shifts to think of the masses more than the worthy. And that is why Mudbloods are dangerous, they represent a bigger threat than a common muggle, they are so beneath us they don't represent a threat, the Mudbloods are the muggles who want too much."

"And this," he said placing his other hand on the book, "will stop them."

Atria stood still, eying the small battered book in her hand. How could something so small contain so much power, so much hate?

"It will play a small role in a much bigger plan, and that is why failure is not an option and you can not second guess anything."He was staring at her now his eyes stone and straight, his words holding importance as well as his need for her dedication, "And you can not tell anyone and then includes your aunt and Draco."

That gave her pause, there where no secrets in this house between her and her guardians, while Draco lived an ignorantly bliss existence she did not, she knew of life beyond these walls and how it treats people should they act an-accordingly to their station and when a pureblood fell from there pedestal, they fell far. All this secrecy scared her, she had never been good at keeping secrets so she tended to stay away from them. She found secrets created nothing but unneeded stress and pressure, And to keep something from Draco and even more so her aunt raised a dangerous red flag. He seemed to sense her stand-offish attitude because his hand tightened around her before he looked up at her his face filled with a much more sinister evil then the conversation had portrayed. "You will not fail me in this will you Atria," he said slowly. She caught her uncle's gaze as he stared at her. They both knew the consequences should she fail in this task would be the same as if she were to fail him in any other and he knew she would make it her mission to avoid such consequences,"Yes uncle"

"Good girl," He said releasing her from his grip before leaning back in the chair slowly, he raised his cigar to his lips before inhaling a deep breath and releasing more smoke into the already misty room,"Now to bed, we have to be up early tomorrow."

She closed the door softly behind her before beginning back to her bedroom. If only she knew the true horrors in obeying a wicked man and what they would lead to because if she knew, she wouldn't have taken that book.

Lucius watched his niece walk out of the room with one of his master's most precious possessions, one that had been bestowed onto him in the last weeks of the war. Of what power it held, he did not know, but one thing was for certain, his master ripped down his enemies with a merciless tear until shreds were all that could be found and the item now in his niece's hands was no exception. For years that book had sat safely in the Malfoy's vault and every time he visited it, it was like his master's presence still lingered. He knew not what would happen or what darkness would seep out of its pages but knew he was doing his master's will.


September 1

A diary is sacred, it's a way to pile up all you're insecurities and thoughts into one place without bottling it up to the point you would explode. Her uncle had given the diary to her with no instructions but to hold it in her possession. It only made sense that whatever magic resided within it had something to do with the items own function. She knew she was doing something wrong, But how wrong could it be if he had entrusted it to her. She had no clue how the diary would do what he said it would, But her uncle was right when he spoke of the dark magic it held. She could feel it from the first moment she touched the book, The pulse of a dark heart beating beneath the leather binding.

Her hand moved quickly as she wrote down word afterword. She spilled her heart into it. Every nightmare and fear went onto the pages in fine print until the pages almost dripped with ink.

When she finished and felt no more need to write anymore, the diary did something strange. Almost as if someone had poured acid over the words, they began to burn away, sinking into the depths of the parchment.

She flicked through the pages as her handwriting slowly disappeared from sight, one page at a time until she was back at the beginning of the newly emptied diary.

She flicked through every page to make sure but not a single word remained before she could turn the next page she saw it. Ink started to float to the surface from where hers had just disappeared. I got closer and closer to the surface until two words appeared.

'Hello Atria'

She dipped her quill back into the ink before replying.

'Hello'

But the word once again vanished, this time without a response so she tried again.

'Who are you?'

And then, she got her reply.

'My name is Tom'

'Tom Riddle'


September 10

Tom Riddle was a nice boy. Tom Riddle was a considerate boy he was sweet to her not at all what she had aspected when her uncle had first given her the diary.

Tom Riddle was a name she had heard before, but she didn't know where or when.

He listened to her and made her feel heard like maybe someone cared like she had a voice. He made her feel not so alone like there was someone out there like her someone who could understand her and everything she had been through.

'You and I aren't that different'

He would say often, and it wasn't long before he proved himself right. they had quite a bit in common actually.

'My mother was a waste of magical blood as well'

'I know what it's like to be surrounded by people who don't understand the way you act or think'

'Being underestimated is a weapon if used correctly, it means they won't see you coming'

He was a relief. Someone who at the end of the day she could speak to and not feel judged and feel no need to impress them. She just had someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't tell her she wrong and wouldn't run to tell her uncle what she had been saying or thinking.

He also spoke to her about her terrors and anxieties, everything she had been sworn into not telling anyone she now told him, and she felt free. Everything she had ever forced herself to not think about, every memory she found herself tossing and turning about in the middle of the night, reminding her that they where still there now had a way to cross over to the next life as all ghosts from the past should. Tom spoke with her, told her how it wasn't her fault, told her about those who always believe themselves to be bigger and better than everyone, no matter how small they really were.

But sometimes those conversations led them down a different path. Ones where he told her that it need not be that way unless she lets it.

'All you need do is raise your wand'

'He would kill me'

'Not if you got to him first'

'I couldn't do that his my uncle'

'But what about everything his done to you'

'Don't you want to make him pay for everything he's done to you'

'I don't know'

'What do you mean you don't know'

'Maybe if your mother acted first she'd still be alive'

'But you just have to decide to be strong rather than weak''

Why did everything he say have to be true, no matter how painful? It wasn't like he was telling her out of spite or to hurt her, It showed some semblance of tough love. When no matter how much it may hurt the person you told them what they needed to hear. And that's why she trusted him it was the first time really, her trusting someone who didn't beat her into it. It was a welcomed change.


October 19

It was the middle of the night, but Tom assured her it was the only way to do it without being seen, so there were no witnesses. She turned into the girl's bathroom before walking over to the sink and sure enough he had been right the snake sat in the metal sinks brandishing proofing everything Tom had said to be true.

She opened the diary reading over the phrase Tom had told her to utter to open the chamber.

"Ayaehahsseyethaa."

The circle of sinks rose up from the ground all peaches before separating mid-air to real the big dark dunk tunnel the led straight down underneath it.

She had opened the chamber of secrets.


October 31st

Atria walked down the corridor her eyes ablaze with the phial snug in her pocket.

Tom had told her what to do where to go to do it.

She turned and found what she was looking for as she walked towards the petrified cat. Mrs Norris looked dead but Tom told her it was all apart of the plan and that she would be fine as soon as the teacher discovers her and helped her.

Mrs Norris lay on the ground completely ridged and broken looking, her wide eyes reflecting back up to atria from the water.

Atria removed her wand, pointing it at the cat before uttering the spell, "Levicorpus."

And her body slowly raised, until Atria was able to tie her to the torch leaving her to hang out as a warning. She bent down placing the book on the ground before reading the passage tom a written out for her to copy.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE

She took the phial of Dragons blood which she had stolen from Snape's stores, before uncorking. She poured a small amount on her finger before beginning to write the message on the wall.


November 3

Atria walked between classes with some of her Slytherin housemates, always travelling in groups, probably to look more intimidating.

Atria wondered with numb eyes. Having just left transfiguration, The story of the legendary chamber of secrets had been explained to the class by professor McGonagall and had Atria chilled to her core.

A monster, The chamber of secrets held a monster and it was going to go beyond just filches evil cat. Mudbloods where next, Mudbloods where the target. And those around her seemed to celebrate that fact.

"I wonder if the chamber is real," Daphne said her eyes filled with amazement and intrigue.

Draco gave the group a sly smile, "I hope so then I won't have to listen to Granger's annoying voice in class anymore," Draco said making the whole group break out in barbed smiles.

"That's a horrible thing to say," Atria said, louder than she probably should have.

"Oh Atria don't be so sensitive," Daphne said brushing off her comment.

"She'd deserve it anyway," Draco said between Crabbe and Goyle making the others laugh.

"No one deserves that," Atria said her eyes stuck on her cousin in disbelief at what he had just said.

"Well, well," Pansy began, her eyes zoning in on Atria. "Finally showing your true colours, Blood traitor."

"I am not a Blood traitor," Atria said defensively glaring towards the other girl while the other watched in fascination.

"You definitely sound like one," Pansy said eyeing Atria with malice, her tone unconvinced and cruel.

"Well, she's not," Draco snapped at Pansy his eyes darting over to his cousin, whether or not his anger was directed at her or Pansy she did not know.

"Their just stupid Mudbloods Atty," Draco whispered to her as the rest of the group charged forward leaving Atria wavering behind.

Atria watched as her classmates moved forward as she remained rotted in place, of course, no one noticed, and they probably wouldn't for a while. How she wished she could be as ignorant to the world around them as the rest of them were. How foolish and spoiled they all were to believe that they were the centre of society and everything and everyone simply existed to serve them. None had the intelligence to accept anything other then what their parents told them, but maybe then again if they did, they would have to come to terms with the fact they were as mortal and human as everyone else and that was something they would never do.


November 10

The day before Christmas was when it started. At first, she thought they were just headaches but then the buzzing became louder. It got worse and worse. She couldn't concentrate in class. She couldn't sleep, she could no longer hold a proper conversation without her mind getting the best of her. But the buzzing became echoes and echoes became whispers until she began to hear it much more clearly. A young boys voice calling from the back of her mind whispering things to her, telling her things. Just small things when she was unsure or confused. His voice sounded so sure and confident. When she was angry, he egged her on when she was sad he blustered her up when she was happy he was too.

She knew something was wrong, hearing voices in your head isn't a good sign, usually its a sign of insanity. But as soon as she asked herself that question. Am I insane? He was there to tell her, 'no', and then it all fell into place.

"Tom?"


November 18

She didn't notice it at first. It was small moments that really caught her attention. The sleep deprivation even though she remembered going to bed and remember falling asleep she still found herself exhausted the very next day.

But one morning was more strange than the rest of them. She woke up with dirty feet as if she had been walking around barefoot in the night, feathers in her hair and an odd tense feeling in both her hands as if she had squeezed the life out of something.

She opened the curtains to an empty dormitory. She must have overslept again.

She quickly ran around the room throwing on her uniform before she left to make her way to the great hall and she got there just in time for breakfast.

People were whispering, in hushed voices and there was a sullen mood among the students.

She sat down at the slithery table in her usual place, and it didn't take her long to wonder what everyone was chatting about.

"What happened exactly," Atria asked Daphne as she picked at a piece of toast.

"Didn't you hear," Daphne whispers to her, always one for gossip.

"What?" Atria asked her but it was Pansy who spoke up smugly, "Someone strangled all the roosters."

"What?" Atria asked, dumbfound, who would strangle roosters, no wonder she didn't wake up this morning.

"Someone strangled them all, not a single one was left alive. Hagrid found them this morning all spread out on the ground necks broken."


November 23

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby….."

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered, "And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me Dobby!"

He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug, "But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby mistress, mistress," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous -"

"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell, must protect her!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!"

"Must protect who Dobby!" said Harry fiercely, "who are you protecting!"


Atria ran towards the common room so fast the world seemed to zoom by as she did.

He had been laying there completely motionless, lifeless even.

Colin, Colin Creevy the first-year Gryfindor who would never hurt a fly

He lay in a hospital bed unmoving his eyes scrunched up his hands still clasping his camera for dear life.

She turned a corner before she felt her body make an impact with someone else's much firmer one.

Her eyes raised slowly until she found herself staring up at Severus Snape whose face became a picture of fury at the sight of her.

"Miss Black it is the middle of the…." He stopped as he finally got a good look at her in the dimly lit corridor.

His eyes widened at her red ones at how vacant her stare was, how lost and scared she looked. He made a quick move to grab her by the shoulder, but she was much smaller and stealthy. She moved quickly, dodging his hand and ran as fast as her legs would carry her down the hall.

"Miss Black come back here!" she heard him call angrily from behind her, but she did not slow down. She ran to the Slytherin common room and glided up the stairs to her dorm, not caring if her roommates were sleeping. She snatched the diary before going into the bathroom quickly.

She fell to the tiled ground before opening the diary.

'How do I close it', she scribbled angrily on the page before watching the ink disappear but no reply? She waited for a few minutes but still not a word from Tom.

'Tom?'

She tried again

'Tom?'

She tried once more, He was ignoring her.

She started to panic it. First, it was animals but now, now it was people, innocent people who couldn't control the fact that they were born different. She stood and began to pace rapidly her body slowly heating up as her breathing became more erratic.

She turned on the shower quilt as the room began to grow too hot for her to bear. She quickly ducked under the water not caring that it was freezing, not caring that she was still fully clothed. She needed the feel numb again she needed to not care about anything else again but she had opened up pandora box the moment she had opened that diary and the price should be her to pay not the ones deemed unfit by a thousand year old dead man.

She couldn't go to Dumbledore she was an accomplice, she was held accountable for her own actions because that's what they were. She had once thought it was the greatest thing to ever happen to her. Tom, Tom was all she had, she could rely on Tom, Tom would help her. But that blessing had become a curse, and the saddest part of it was that this was only the beginning of cage Tom riddle was slowly building around her.

She sunk down the wall until she was sitting under to cold water as every part of her body went numb. But something in the deep dark part of her mind told her this was only the beginning.


November 24th

Atria sat in the common room the diary in her hands. She couldn't seep, she couldn't eat and had thrown up every time she even tried. She knew Tom was ready to talk. She felt the humming of power from the diary, like a beating drum calling her back to him. But she wouldn't, she would not give in. It was best if it remains closed from now on and hopefully until the end of time. But still, she had no guarantee that's the way it would stay.

"Why is it then whenever I find you have that stupid book?" Draco said throwing himself on the couch next to her.

Atria rolled her eyes at his adolescent behaviour. She would never admit to Draco, but she was always jealous, how he was the one who could live the true extent of his childhood blinkered from his father's sins while she was used for them.

"It's not a book it's a diary and why shouldn't I," she said impoverished.

"Well can I at least read it," he asked making a move o open the cover of the book.

She quickly moved it out of his reach before staring at him in shock at his gall, "No, you can't."

"Come on what does it say that I don't already know," he said making another move for the book.

She tucked the book away in her bag as she explained to him in a more playful manor knowing it was the best way to lead him off without making him angry. "Contrary to what you may think Draco you don't know everything about me."

Draco leant back on the couch as she sat back up and laid her head back against the headrest to look at him. His eyes were contemplative and his brow raised at her in a gaze that reminded her so of his father.

"Where were you last night?" He asked, his young face looking more aged in its severity.

Atria gave pause at the sudden change of subject and flinched somewhat in his stern gaze as he continued, "Daphne said that when she went to the bathroom last night she noticed you weren't in bed. So where were you?"

Atria paused for a moment and she could see he was observing her every move, "I was in the common room."

"Why?" He asked suspiciously, his eyes running over he face as to spot any give of dishonesty.

"Just reading didn't want to wake the other girls up with the light," she replied plainly and raised her eyes to look at him only to see a frightening look of disdain on his face as glared at her from his place, "Your lying Atty." He hissed at her.

Atria's head jerked back subtly as if to distance herself from her cousin, "No, I'm not."

"Yes you are," he said in a tone reserved usually for that of Harry Potter and the likes of those he thought lower than himself.

"Miss Black."

Both turned quickly to see Snape standing in the common room doorway his eyes on his two students before settling on Atria, "Come here."

Atria stood from her seat before walking over to professor Snape as he led her into the corridor. He crossed his arm over his chest as he stared down at the petite little girl as looked to her shoes.

"Would you like to explain to me perhaps why it is that a second year such as your self was roaming around the castle in early hours of the morning when she has no business what so ever to be doing so?"

"I just needed some air sir," Atria replied with lowered eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at her defence, his face unreadable, "Is that so."

"Yes, sir."

"And not only that but you also had the audacity to try to run," he said his lips turning into a grimace of anger at her disobedience.

Atria's eyes stilled on her professor as his tall figure loomed over her. She unable to break from his intimidating gaze as she stumbled over her words, "I'm sorry sir. I was, I was tired and confused. I haven't been sleeping well."

"I would go as far as to say that your exhausted," He said pointedly, He saw the bags under her eyes in class and the way her body twitched in Hypnagogic jerks. And this was not a single occurrence he had first been informed by professor McGonagall weeks ago that Atria was not up to her usual standards in class. He may have a certain dislike for the girl, But he was not arrogant, Atria Black was a bright young girl. The top of almost all her classes but lately he had notices she had been slipping. "Your professors are worried your falling asleep in class, unable to keep focus. Your change in demeanour is quite noticeable."

Atria felt her eyes water but willed the tears in her eyes to still. She can't say a word and she knew under her professors gaze that to break was a strong possibility.

"It would be a shame if a letter had to be sent home."

"I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again."

"Make sure it doesn't."


November 30

Atria sat at the desk staring at the open book, he had been trying to talk to her for days but she hadn't even opened the book to check if he had tried. But there it was, his pretty handwriting waiting to be read.

'Good morning'

She sat for a moment, staring at the words. And sensing her presents he continued to press on.

'Oh come on'

'You can't ignore me forever'

'Watch me'

'Don't be like that'

'I know you made me strangle those roosters'

'A flock of annoying birds. That's why you're upset.'

'And I know there's a monster in the chamber'

'And I know its there to kill Muggleborns and you just forced me to let it out'

'I forced you to do nothing. If you don't remember you did it willingly'

'Tom, Colin is in the hospital, there is an investigation in the school already. This has already become too dangerous. We need to stop'

'We. What do you mean by we? You did this all on your own'

'But you told me to'

'And who will believe you when you tell them your diary told you to do it'

'Im all you have and I can help you'

'Tom I don't want your help I just want to stop this before its too late, people are going to get hurt.'

'I think we're already past that point Atty'

'Don't call me that'

'Why not it's what he calls you'

'Yes but he's my cousin'

'But I like Atty'

'I can't help you anymore Tom, I won't'

Her body moved against her she didn't even know where the command came from but it was too late. Her body took over and she felt her head go down in lightning speed until it banged into the desk with a painful thump. She fell off the chair her head feeling fuzzy maybe she was concussed. What on earth was that? She moved her hand to her head, but she retracted it when she felt a sting from the touch. Blood, there was blood on her hand she got up and moved to a mirror to see a new gash on the edge of her hairline where her head had met the desk.

There was no slip, nothing on her behalf that would have led to that had it been no that wasn't possible but then she saw his reply on the open page of the book.

'But you will.'


December 12

A Basilisk she knew the monster was a basilisk. She read the age over and over again Tom would help her stop it then she would have to work out how to do it herself. King of serpents, capable of living for hundreds of years. And the rooster's cry is why tom wanted her to kill the flock of birds. She read the age over and over again Tom would help her stop it then she would have to work out how to do it herself.

A Basilisk grew to monstrous lengths and for it to move freely through the castle and not be seen was not possible.

She knew it came from the chamber in the bathroom but how did it move from there what in the bathroom gave it access to the corridor, everything in the bathroom left through the pip..

Pipes. It was travelling through the pipes.

'Clever little one' She heard Tom whisper in her head. But she ignored him.

Her hand traced the page as she flicked around in the library making sure no one was watching her.

'What are you doing Atty'

'Nothing'

'Liar' he whispers softly at her

'I can't do it anymore tom', she said honestly.

'Yes you can '

'And you will'

'Remember what your uncle told you Atria'

'You listen to everything I say'

'And do everything I tell you'

'Or I think you'll get very hurt '

'please just leave me alone'

'Don't test my patience Atty'

'You'll find I'm a lot more dangerous then any beating you've ever had '


January 22

Her uncle had written to her telling her to meet her in the slithery dormitory at 6:00 while everyone was at the great feast. Dumbledore was gone, news travelled fast. Her uncle had used his power on the Hogwarts board of directors to get her biggest threat out of the way.

She sat with her head against the desk, not her biggest threat, her biggest hope. Without Dumbledore it would never stop, he was the only one who could have helped, could have stopped him. And now that the headmaster was gone she could hear the constant banging of Tom's attempts to break free from his prison. His power buzzing like a swarm of wasps.

Atria's head raised as she heard a knock on the door.

She turned in her seat to come face to face with Lucius Malfoy "Atria."

And like a porcelain doll thrown against a wall, she broke. She had no one, she had only what she knew and that was family. She had not been shielded from the world as Draco had. She had been shoved headfirst into a dark abyss, held there until it slowly morphed into her reality and it was the man in front of her that had confined her to it. But her walls were caving in, burying her under them and any hand that pushed through the ruble was one she could use to lift herself out.

She burst into tears at the sight of his stiff figure, running to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist in a one-sided hug before crying into his chest.

"I'm sorry but I can't, I can't do it anymore," she tirelessly sobbed, her body quaking with her cries. She was so lost, so out of control. Her mind was scattered into a million pieces and every time she tried to calm it, it was like calming a thousand storms that continued to move, devastating everything in their way.

Her uncle's arms never moved and felt as solid as stone in her trembling arms, completely still and unyielding from the force of her shudders.

He pulled her back by her shoulders roughly and with the back of his hand delivered a hard blow to the side of her face.

Atria hit the stone ground crying harder, her ribs hurting from the force of her cries as her mania reached its ruinous peak.

"Weak," he spat at the sobbing girl as she sat on the ground her body spent, swaying like a wilted flower in the wind.

"After everything I have done for you, you can't complete the simple task I have given you "

Atria eyes were wild as she looked up at him, her fingers gripping her school skirt so tightly she could feel her nails cutting through the threads.

"But the things it tells me to do, I can't, I can't get him out of my head, I can't," Her hands went to her ears, and she clawed at them almost in an attempt to rip them from her head allowing not a single sound access. But Toms's voice filled her mind once more.

'He thinks you're pathetic'

'Have your tears ever moved him to stop before'

Her eyes scrunched shut trying to turn off her senses, trying to block him out as she grasped at her ears even tighter.

"I can't make him stop," was her small broken whimper as she curled up, trying to push herself in on her body.

Lucius moved forward quickly snatching her wrists in his hands and ripping them away from her ears only to see the blood under her nails where she had cut too deep. He then moved his hand to each of her cheeks in a strong grip to get her hands away from her face.

"Shhh", he hushed to the lucid girl, "it will be alright," he said gripping her cheeks tightly in his grasp, trying to awaken her from the deranged coma she was trapped in. And soon enough Atria's cries lessened and he continued until she was a no longer a blubbering mess.

"It will all be over soon."


February 25

Atria ran into the girl's bathroom her hands grasping the Hair on her head trying to claw through to her mind, maybe that would stop his voice she told herself, maybe if she dug deep enough she could tear him out and all would be as it once was. She couldn't take it anymore, not the guilt or the fear, she couldn't watch as another innocent student was taken to the hospital because of her despicable actions.

Tom's voice had grown too loud to the point it was almost smothering out her own, she could barely hear her own thoughts they had become the ant crushed under toms boot. And with the volume of it came the power. Every secret, every beating, every insecurity she had ever told him he now used against her. And she didn't have the strength to shut it out.

'Pathetic' she heard his voice say in her ear.

"Tom stop," she cried in her mind still just a hushed whisper compared to his.

'Your nothing some pureblood princess no one wants and no one loves, and that's why no one will stop him when he beats you to a lifeless corpse.'

"Please stop." This time it was not her mind that spoke but her mouth, out loud, her cracking and broken voice echoing in the bathroom like a choir of the damned.

'Maybe if you're lucky, you'll survive this.'

"Tom please stop please just leave me alone," she cried her eyes so swollen, she could barely even see the room as she backed up into the bathroom's corner. She sobbed as the room seemed to close in on her, leaving her stuck in her own personal purgatory of Tom's creation.

'Weak just like your mother. No backbone or will to even break.'

"Stop it please," she wailed, her hands flying to her ears as she tried to silence the noise but to no avail.

'You'll end up like her before you know it, cold and in the ground.'

"STOP!" She screamed as she threw the diary through the air as far away from her as she could get it. The pipes burst open and water flew from their cracked points, shooting it in each and every direction.

She sunk to her knees, her body wracked with sobs to the point she didn't even have time to take a breath. She felt so small, so fragile if someone came in the slightest touch would have broken her into a million pieces and no one would be able to put her back together again. She could have curled up in a ball right there and then, and let the bathroom flood around her until she drowned in the water as well as her exhaustion. But still, as she sat her hands over her ears, she heard it. For the first time in a long time, she heard the sound of Silence.


March 16

Atria sat in the library, over the last few days she had started to feel some semblance of herself. She sat reading great wizards of our time and had just reached the chapter about the most recent and by far one of the darkest wizards of the time.

Tom Morvolo Riddle was...

Wait.

What?

Why was it that in the first line of a chapter full of dark wizards, the first three words of Voldemort's beginning started with Tom Morvolo Riddle.

She felt a sick feeling in her gut but looked back to the page to see if she had just been daydreaming. But no, the first three words read Tom Marvel Riddle.

Her eyes scanned the page quickly, and her heart jumped into her throat as she came to the conclusion of her discovery.

Sweet Salazar. She had messed up. She had really messed up. She should have burnt that stupid book the moment she had it in a grasp.

Tom

Sweet caring Tom

Sweet caring manipulative Tom

Sweet manipulative psychotic Tom was him.

He who must not be named

Voldemort.


March 17

Atria threw the room apart in a desperate search and as time went by she grew more and more eratic in her task. She should have destroyed that book, she should have tied it to a brick before throwing it into the deep pits of the black lake. But now she had settled for a watery grave in the girl's lavatory and now it was here with Harry Potter. The boy who lived, The boy who stooped he must not be named now slept in the same room as a dark artefact that contained some semblance of that monster. She didn't understand how it's power worked but or how it had in someway contained a young tom riddle in such a lively and present way, but it terrified her, the fact that it even existed and the fact that it had been in her uncle's possession.

Tom was too dangerous for Harry. The power of the diary would sink into him until he crumbled like a paper tower. And the boy who lived, his life now rested in her hands.

She threw books from their places on the tables and ripped draws free, causing their contents to fall on the floor. But the diary was nowhere and she felt her desperation reach its peak. She picked up every mattress, flipping them off of their beds until she heard a heavy thunk come from under that of Harry Potter's. She saw the shiny leather that had fallen under his bed and quickly ducked down before snatching it up and running from the dormitory.


March 18

Atria sat against her headboard, the curtains were drawn around her, the diary sat at the end of the bed staring her down. As soon as the book left her possession she had stopped hearing his voice and her head and she began to feel some semblance of normalcy roam her mind as well in her life. Would it all start again when she opened the diary? Would he smother her into madness until there was no possible way for her to turn back? She couldn't think of herself anymore, her selfishness and weak will where what started this atrocity in the first place, so the burden was hers to bear.

She moved slowly towards the dairy before placing it in her lap, quill at the ready. But when she opened the book, every page was already filled with the same verse over and over again from front to back.

'You left me'

She started to flick through the diary. His writing becoming angrier. His usual neat swirls became larger and less structural until it almost felt like he was screaming at her in manic lines. She had to make him talk to her and she knew he reacted to her sorrow and weakness with an exhilarated craze. So she set her trap.

'I'm sorry'. She wrote.

She waited a moment before more erratic letter filled the page blocking out her own.

'It's going to take a little bit more than that this time Atty'

'Please Tom I'm frightened I don't know what to do. I can't help you anymore'

'Why not'

I know who you are

For a moment there was no reply and she thought maybe he had stopped maybe he knew that from now on he would remain confined to the diary that now she had become a hopeless case, she wouldn't help the darkest lord of the time. But she was wrong.

'So, you finally worked it out'

'Not a stupid little girl, after all, are you'

'I won't help you anymore Tom'

'Why are you being like this'

'After everything, I have done for you'

'You've done nothing for me, you're ruining me.'

'Only because you let me'

'Can't you see, I'm trying to make you stronger but you won't let me'

'I can help you, all you need to do is let me, only I can make it all stop'

Don't listen to him his using you and when he's done he'll leave you broken and locked in with yourself and regrets.

But what if she closed the diary, and it was too late he was already back in her head. Atria watched as her tears fell to the paper. 'Don't', she told herself it his trap and once you fall into it you won't get back out?

But he could help her, he helped her in the past and everything he had told her had helped. Everything would be better then it was before but not before it got to far. Maybe if she gave herself to him, he would leave other alone, maybe this was the pursuit of a lost and angry teenage boy who felt no sense of control and used his power to dominate and torture those around him. Or maybe after her, he would still continue and more would die and suffer at his words behest.

But still who would help her. She was so tired of being weak, being the victim but with no turning point just a flat line of pain and anguish. She was 12 and could see her whole life flash before her eyes in one dull grey flash and it was not long before she was dead without ever really living. And that thought drove her mad. How long would she have to wait until someone would come and dig her out of the hole she was born in. How long until she could take her own life into her hands instead of it being held on like a tight and choking leash. Atria made her choice. She was done waiting, done waiting for a change in her plotline. She would have to make one her self, whether it came out as a cry for help or otherwise she had made her choice. So with a trembling hand, she wrote back to him.

'How?'

She waited and waited. Her eyes stuck on the page, maybe he was teasing her knowing her desperate needs and wanting to build her only to break her after as he often did.

But then he told her.

'Let me show you'

But the ink didn't vanish as it usually did. Instead, all their conversations appeared and flashed before her eyes on the pages. Every secret she had told him, every nightmare she had shared grew back on the page like mould on a wall. It spread like a virus until not a space on any page was left. It flooded with confessions from both parties, and she knew she had made the wrong choice.

The words moved. The words moved like tentacles on the page, slowly drifting towards her fingers which held the book open.

Her body tried to drop the book but her finger refused to let go, her grip only increasing. The black sentences and paragraphs moved until she felt them stick to her fingers like thick black oil. And it spread. It moved up her arms and further until her body was paralysed by the fear in her words. She felt his power pulsating in her neck, trying the strangle her until it was like her body had forgotten to move.

Every conversation and a kaleidoscope of pain flashed before her eyes and the feeling grew to much to bear and a presents filled her that slowly smothered her own, her own consciousness slipping away as something completely different took its place.

'Don't worry Atty'

'I'll take it from here'

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