Disclaimer: One Piece and Harry Potter does not belong to me, each belongs to their respective author.

Challenge by TheBlackSeaReaper.

-.- The Very Secret Diary

Multiple voices could be heard from the other side of the door of Professor McGonagall's office, all speaking one after another that it seemed impossible for anyone to stop them.

"Enough"

Except for the same Minerva McGonagall that after getting the seven children to remain silent, she hastened to say her part.

"Believe me that I am aware of the situation, and I completely agree with what you say." said the woman, before hurrying to add "But I can't do anything to get Mr. Portgas out of Azkaban, if you continue to attack me verbally in my office. So get out of here and let me do my job that if it's necessary I myself will go and take him out of that cell. "

The twins looked at each other.

"Well if you need help to break into ..."

"Out" the teacher ordered before the twin finished the sentence.

Neville, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Luna and Cedric left the office without encouragement.

"I'll talk to my father," said Cedric. "Work in the ministry, he'll know what to do."

The young pirate aspirants waited in silence as Cedric walked away.

"We can't leave Ace in that place," said Hermione turning to the group.

"Agree," said Fred.

"I say we drop bombs in the ministry in protest," said George.

Hermione sighed. "I'm serious"

"We too" responded in unison.

"Several rules are being skipped here," Fred confirmed.

"We have to let the world know what happens"

Hermione breathes.

"What we need is to find the real culprit," said the girl. "Only then will Ace be released."

"Ace was intrigued by the diary," said Neville. "Maybe we should review it, if that diary has answers, we have to find it"

"What would be the use of investigating an old diary?" reproached George.

"Malfoy said the chamber was opened fifty years ago," Ron said. "The diary is from fifty years ago."

"We should find the creature, know what it is"

"The creature will do us no good, the culprit ..."

"It won't help us either, what we want is to rescue Ace."

"Protesting is what we must do"

The conversation no longer made sense, everyone spoke at the same time, wanting to be heard, but without really listening to the other.

"Agh!" Ron exclaimed, bringing his hand to his head "What hit me?"

That got everyone's attention and watching everywhere, Hermione found an object lying on the floor. It was a piece of parchment that wrapped a piece of sealing wax to make it a heavier object to be thrown hard.

Hermione ignored the sealing and looked at the parchment. Something was written on it and she read it carefully.

"What is that?" Luna asked.

Hermione did not respond immediately, she seemed to consider the answer, before answering: "Instructions of what to do"

"Is anyone telling us what to do?" Ron said indignantly "We can't let them give us orders"

Hermione continued reading the paper, as if she wanted to memorize it, or there was something more interesting about it.

"But it's right" and with that she addressed the group "'Making a scandal at the Ministry will only make us see ourselves as the enemies and not free Ace'" The twins began to protest, but Hermione did not give them a chance " 'The twins will review the laws and find something to hold on to release Ace' "the girl paused to take a breath" 'Unless they have another clue, you have to know what the monster is to get to the culprit, Lovegood is good with the animals, Granger with the books "another pause. "'Longbottom is right, Weasley will help him"

Hermione finished reading the note and looked up to observe everyone.

"What nonsense," said Ron.

"It really makes a lot of sense," said Hermione. "It's a good plan."

"If so we will move faster," said George.

"And we will end up covering more ground"

"Well, in that case. In favor?" said Hermione, to which all but Ron raised their hands, Ron took a while to do so "So we do that, and get to work" and with that everyone moved.

Luna stayed with Hermione in the hall.

"Another friend of Ace is helping us"

"Maybe," said Hermione as she put the note in her backpack. "But I would have liked him or her to tell us in person"

"He or She may not be ready, and will tell us when he or she is"

-.-

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

Rumors run around of what had happened, Ace's absence had been noticed, and in a few days everyone had noticed that Portgas D Ace was not there. The first theory that emerged had been that he had been the victim of an attack and to keep the calm had been a secret.

Ernie Macmillan did not share this theory, he said he had fled to be discovered after the event at the Dueling Club. Fortunately no one had taken out the theory of being captured by the ministry, none was sure how to act if that secret came out.

"I don't know why I stayed in the diary's work," said Ron, as they walked down the stairs to have breakfast on February fourteen, along with Neville. Both had tried to find out what was about Riddle and his diary, everything was to get answers for what had happened fifty years ago, but after days, they had achieved nothing.

"I guess because you knew of Riddle," Neville replied at his side.

"I swear this can't be worse"

Lie, there was something worse.

Upon entering the Great Hall the walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling.

Neville and Ron went over to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, sitting down and wiping confetti off his bacon.

The Twins where there too, and George pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Neville could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," said Ron as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and some of the boys, who were running away from the shame of the messages.

"This is a nightmare," said Ron. "How lucky that no one writes to us."

Just then a boy, who was running away from a sung message, knocked down Neville by throwing all his things and breaking a bottle of ink in the process, filling all his books with scarlet ink.

Percy was passing by, and he couldn't help stopping the commotion and sending everyone back to class, including the poor victim of the sung message.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you, Malfoy —"

Ron, glancing over, saw Malfoy stoop and snatch up something. Leering, he showed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and Ron realized that he'd got Riddle's diary.

"Give that back," said Ron quietly.

"Wonder what Longbottom's written in this?" said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Neville's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring from the diary to Neville, to Ron, looking terrified.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy sternly.

Malfoy looked up and moved towards Neville, the boy on the other hand kept his eyes on Malfoy while he handed him the Diary.

"Surely it's nothing interesting." Neville had to hold Ron before he pounced on Malfoy, and got into trouble.

"Leave it, leave it, it's not worth it" and with that they left the hall and followed Classes.

It wasn't until they had reached Professor Flitwick's class that Neville noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary. All his other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it.

-.-

Fred and George have dedicated their live to break rules, not knowing the rules, but finding some way to get Ace back was worth all the library hours they were going through. However, no matter how much they sought, they had hundreds of things, laws that could help them, examples of cases, but there was no law that said that one could not be imprisoned without trial.

They could make a request, that so far was their best option. But they had to find someone of legal age who agreed to present the request, they were thinking of asking their dad for help, and if not, there were always Bill and Charly, but for that they had to give them all the necessary information.

No, their best option was to find the real culprit, but it was easier said than done.

-.-

Neville sat on his four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary. The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Neville loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Neville Longbottom."

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened. Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Neville had never written.

"Hello, Neville Longbottom. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?" These words, too, faded away, but not before Neville had started to scribble back.

"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet." He waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.

"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"What do you mean?" Neville scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.

"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"That's where I am now," Neville wrote quickly. "I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff 's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

His heart was hammering. Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.

"Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident.

They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."

Neville nearly upset his ink bottle in his hurry to write back. "It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"

"I can show you, if you like," came Riddle's reply. "You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."

Neville hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.

"Let me show you."

Neville paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters. "OK."

The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Neville saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a minuscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forward; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed, and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.