AN: Trigger warning for characters expressing extremely racist views against Muggle-Borns. It's in a memory, so you'll know where to skip.

Oh, and there are also some likes taken directly from Chamber of Secrets at the end, to give credit where credit is due.

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Sophie ran down the stairs from the girls' dormitory with Parvati's diary, and the present second-years all gathered around it. Harry opened it ceremoniously, to see the name T.M. Riddle written on the first page. He recoiled. „It's the one we wanted," he said.

"All right," Sophie said, all business-like. "Let's see what it does."

"Sophie! We can't, it's too dangerous."

"Come on, Harry, Parvati had it for over a month!" And before he could protest, Sophie took it from his hands and opened it. It was blank. "Well," she muttered. "That's a disappointment."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Magic, remember?" He said. "I'm sure there's a way to make it show things. What did you see the girls doing with it?"

"Just writing..."

"We can do that," Dean decided and took out his ink and quill.

Harry, though having a bad feeling about it, was unable to stop them. He was too curious. Surely a little writing would do no harm?

"Hello," Dean wrote on the first page and paused, thinking about what to do next.

The ink disappeared.

"Hello," the diary wrote back.

Seamus jumped a little, and Harry stared. He did not recall ever seeing anything like this. Every time he thought he knew everything about the world of magic, it surprised him again.

"What are you?" Dean asked almost immediately, though his hand was shaking a little.

"Not what, but who," the diary replied. "My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?"

At this point, Harry woke out of his surprised trance and snatched the diary out of Dean's hands, closing it. "We're not having a chat with Riddle," he declared. "I'm calling Alduin."

"You're no fun," Sophie muttered.

"Did you forget the part about the diary being able to make you do things?" Seamus asked incredulously.

Alduin, after being informed, curtly ordered Harry and his friends to meet him at the Hogwarts gates. He closed the connection before Harry could ask how he intended to open them, and so they all shrugged and gathered their cloaks and hats and headed out.

The answer to the question presented itself when they met Snape at the gates, already opening them for Alduin.

"Thank you," the younger man muttered, and extended his hand towards Harry, who handed him the diary. Alduin put it in his inside pocket, nodded at Harry and said: "Sorry this was so brief. I'll call later, Harry, but right now, this needs to get off the school grounds as soon as possible. And keep an eye on Parvati. I don¨t know what spells exactly are on this, but she might not be quite well for a few weeks."

He nodded to all of them, passed through the gates again, and disapparated.

Snape gave them all a neutral look as he closed the gates and walked back to the castle in a quick pace. The students followed behind him much more slowly.

"That was it?" Sophie expressed all of their feelings.

"I do feel a little disappointed," Harry admitted, "but I suppose it was for the best."

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Meanwhile, Alduin had Apparated home and headed straight to the laboratory Miss Brigit had built in her day – and, incidentally, in which she died. It had been used for all experimental spells since, being well isolated from the rest of the manor, and Alduin now put the diary in the middle of that room and started to cast all manner of diagnostic spells on it.

What he found alarmed him deeply.

He had expected some sort of strong compulsion charm on it, but it was, instead, fairly glowing with dark magic. It was worse than anything he'd ever seen, and during some of his transcendental experiments, he had seen some truly strange things.

Putting on dragon hide gloves, even though he knew Anil's daughter had it for a long time and was still sane and alive, he opened it and conjured a quill and ink.

"Thursday, 22nd October," he wrote, and watched the letters disappear. Nothing happened.

"I had a strange day today," he wrote, and this time, after a moment, he got the answer: "In what way?"

"Dibby!" Alduin called, and when his personal elf appeared, he said: "Stay here and watch, and if you think anything wrong is happening, call Alexandra."

Dibby nodded, and watched carefully as Alduin replied. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tom Riddle. I take it you're not Miss Patil, then?"

"No indeed." Alduin hesitated for a moment, then wrote. "I'm Lucius Malfoy."

"Malfoy? Not, perhaps, a grandson of my good friend Abraxas?"

Another small hesitation, then: "Yes."

"Then it's lovely to meet you! How did you come to my diary?"

"I found it," was the evasive answer.

"Ah. Well, then, allow me to introduce myself properly."

The diary pages turned into a small screen, and what looked like a displayer scene was on the other side. "Dibby," Alduin said, turning to his elf, "if I don't emerge within...fifteen minutes, go fetch Alexandra and tell her I'm stuck in a memory. She will know what to do."

The elf nodded again, looking anxious now, and Alduin pressed his eye to the page.

He was standing in what he presumed must have been the Slytherin common room, all green and silver and under the lake, and before him was a handsome boy of about sixteen. Riddle, he realised. He had seen the old photos, but still, this was different. Much more real. The boy walked towards a couch, on which another easily recognizable young man was lounging. The pale face, silver-blond hair and light grey eyes would have betrayed him as a Malfoy in any case, but Alduin remembered Abraxas and, though he had been much older then, he was still identifiable.

"Any success?" Malfoy asked.

Riddle smirked. "Of course," he said. "That disgusting mongrel will not pollute the grounds of this school any more – and I'm to get an award for special services to the school, Dippet said."

Abraxas openly grinned. "Well," he said, "that calls for a celebration!" He produced a bottle of firewhisky from somewhere, and poured two shots into conjured glasses.

"It's a shame you won't be able to do away with any more of the mudbloods," he commented.

"Not right now," Riddle amended, "but trust me, I have plans."

Abraxas grinned. "You always have plans, Tom." His grin widened. "If you had to limit yourself to one this time, I have to say you certainly chose well. That Warren was a whiny bitch."

Riddle shrugged. "They all are. I honestly have trouble differentiating between them."

Abraxas shook his head. "It's like rats," he said. "They're all disgusting, but the one that bites your toes irritates you the most."

It went on and on like this. Abraxas and Riddle sat and drank together, joking at the expense of Muggle-Born students in general and the dead Myrtle in particular. Other students joined them in time, many sitting on the ground at their feet as they listened worshipfully to what their elders were saying.

Alduin began to worry Dibby would be forced to call Alexandra when he was finally ejected. Once that happened, he gave the book an intent look, considering all he had just experienced.

At first he had suspected the book was intended to come to a Malfoy heir, but it made no sense. Why would Lucius simply not give it to Draco? Or if he didn't know, why would Riddle not tell him? Why go such a roundabout way? Even putting in a "just in case" trigger for the chance that it was randomly discovered by a Malfoy seemed unlikely and overwrought, when it was something given to Lucius for safekeeping in the first place. Besdies, if the purpose of the book was opening the Chamber, why do such things in the first place? It did not need to garner sympathy for Riddle, and it was hardly efficient to try and combine the two goals...

No, Alduin was starting to fear this diary was something much worse than he'd suspected, but he needed to verify first, before he started to panic.

"That was very interesting," he wrote. "I never knew my grandfather had a friend named Tom Riddle at school."

It took a moment for the diary to reply this time. "Ah, well, he might have mentioned me under a different name," it finally wrote. "Many people get nicknames at school. I'm sure that if you asked him, he'd confirm my identity."

"My grandfather is dead," Alduin immediately replied, curious.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," came the answer. "He was a great man and an excellent friend. Please accept my condolences. What happened?"

"He was poisoned, but it was never discovered who did it."

"Oh. I wish I could help you with that. Such a thing shouldn't go unpunished. It seems you have no one to confirm my story then, but surely the memory is enough?"

"Yes, I believe you. It's great having a link to my dead grandfather like this, and I hope you'll show me more memories later. But, listen, this is kind of embarrassing, but it's been really bothering me lately and you seemed very confident and popular in the memory, so...can I ask you for help with something?"

"Of course. I'll gladly do anything for my friend Abraxas' grandson."

"Well, there is this girl I'd like to ask out..."

"Ah. Well, I would think the Malfoy charm should do the trick, but if you require more..."

Here, a number of dating advices spilled across the page, but Alduin didn't read them. Part of him was morbidly curious to see what Voldemort thought was the way to court women, but there were bigger matters to deal with. "Listen," he wrote, interrupting the diary, "someone's coming, I'll have to end this conversation. I'll be back later."

He closed the diary, then, and stared off into the distance.

There was no way a mere memory receptacle could have managed that conversation. He had purposefully deviated from anything that could possibly be considered an expected topic for a diary meant to instruct people to open the Chamber of Secrets, and the book never even missed a beat. Combined with all the dark magic that was radiating from is, there was one very real possibility, and it made Alduin's insides clench in fear.

Because this diary was almost certainly a Horcrux, and if it was a Horcrux and Riddle went to James' house to make a Horcrux...that meant he had more than one. And if there were two..well, who was to say there weren't three, or even more? Alduin rubbed his eyes. Why could nothing ever be easy? He would need to call his transcendental friends once more.

There was one other thing, though. Abdullah had been telling him for months that he should tell Alexandra about the Horcruxes. Alduin agreed with him, really. The only problem was that he knew such a conversation would eb upsetting for him, bringing it all back to the forefront of his mind, and so he wanted to avoid it until he was sure he was feeling better.

But now, here, was the final confirmation that Riddle truly did have horcruxes, so any excuse that perhaps it wasn't true went out of the window. And Abdullah was right that since Alexandra knew there was something Alduin wasn't telling her, the longer he waited, the more she would feel like he did not trust her. And trust, Abdullah had said, was crucial in a marriage.

Alduin thought a little resentfully that it was all so much easier for him. He and Isobel had been a love match and started dating in their fifth year, inseparable since then. And they'd been friends before that, for years, ever since they were little. It was easy to trust someone like that.

Still, he didn't distrust Alexandra, not really, and he was just looking for excuses. Discussing the prophecy with her had been beneficial, he had to admit that. So he pushed all his worries and fears into the back of his mind, and went to find her.

She took the news that Riddle had Horcruxes in stride. She hadn't been sure such a thing actually existed, but wasn't surprised by it, and commented that making more than one was, all in all, a logical thing to do.

Her reaction to the discovery that Harry was one, on the other hand, was quite different. "Is Harry in danger?" She asked.

"Well, certainly, in many ways, but..."

"No, I mean from the Horcrux. Can it possess him?"

The question took Alduin aback. "I don't think so..." he said. "Mrs. Gerard certainly never mentioned anything of the sort."

"You should bloody well make sure," she replied, making it probably the first time he heard her swear. "If there's a person in danger of being possessed in the same house as my son, I'd rather know."

Alduin bristled. "I won't treat Harry like a time-bomb, not even out of regard for Wynn I won't."

"That's not what I meant," she retorted, giving him a sharp look. "It'd hardly be pleasant for Harry either. If there's this danger, we have to do our best to help him and protect him from it, for both of the boys' sake. But possession is usually more dangerous to those around than to the possessed, at least in the first stage. And Wynn is the most vulnerable of us. We both could handle a possessed Harry, probably. Wynn couldn't, and Harry spends a lot of time with him, alone. That's why we need to know."

Alduin looked away, ashamed of himself. Of course she was right. Where was his famed rationality, he wondered, when he needed it the most?

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Over at Hogwarts, after classes, most of second-year Gryffindors were gathered in the boys' dormitory, explaining the diary to Neville and Ron.

"You actually wrote into it?" Neville looked half horrified, half amazed.

"Only very little," Sophie said, sounding disappointed. "Harry had to run to his cousin like always."

"Will you stop saying that?" Ron asked her, irritated. "It's not like his cousin ever did anything wrong."

"He takes all the fun out of it!"

"This isn't fun!" Harry said, frustrated. "Riddle killed people – so many people – he killedmy parents, how can you think it's fun?"

Sophie looked mildly chastised. "I wouldn't say it if we were dealing with actual Riddle," she muttered. "But, I mean, it was just his diary..."

"We don't even know what it did, it could have been extremely dangerous!"

"Parvati had it for months! She said she got it in the middle of the summer!"

"Look," Dean said in a reasonable voice, "I was a little disappointed we didn't learn more about it either, but they're probably right. It really was risky."

"You're both crazy," Seamus muttered. "Why would you even – I was conflicted enough about us even opening it, why would you want to write inside?"

Harry was quickly growing frustrated by the discussion. He was worried, his mind kept going to Alduin, and he had no patience for his friends' silly ideas. He got up abruptly and left the room and Gryffindor tower, wanting to clear his head.

The weather was surprisingly decent for the time of the year, so he headed out to the grounds, to Hagrid's. There, he found a warm welcome.

"Harry!" The groundskeeper said. "I'm happy to see yeh - but where are Neville an' Ron?"

"In the castle," Harry replied as he came in and tried to deal with Fang jumping him in joy. "I needed to clear my head."

Hagrid gave him a look over Fang's head. "Yeh argued?"

"No! Not with them, anyway," Harry amended, finally managing to push the dog away and sit down at the table. "Some of my friends are being a little silly, I guess."

"And since when do yeh mind a bit o' silliness so much?" Hagrid asked from where he was busy with the kettle, rutning over his shoulder to look at Harry.

Harry shook his head. He knew he couldn't explain.

"All right," Hagrid conceded, "we can talk about somethin' else. How're classes this year so far?"

Harry nodded gratefully and settled more comfortably into his chair. "Pretty much the same as last year, though more Potions is never a good thing, and Defence is probably worse that Quirrel's, too. Lockhart is dreadful."

Hagrid scoffed as he put cups on the table. "Can't disagree with you here. He's been givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well. Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

Harry laughed. "Why do you think Dumbledore lets him teach here?" He asked.

"He was the on'y man for the job," Hagrid replied. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now."

"I knew that," Harry admitted, "but I didn't know it was this bad. Really the only one?"

"Yeah. It's clear Dumbledore's desperate. A few more years, and he might have to cancel the class."

"Cancel Defense?" Harry asked, alarmed. If Riddle was to return when no one knew how to defend themselves…

"What can he do?" Hagrid asked. "But enough o' this gloom. Come an' see what I've bin growin' while the tea cools."

Curious, Harry followed him behind the house, where Hagrid pointed proudly to enormous pumpkins, reaching at least Harry's waist.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" Hagrid asked. "Fer the Halloween feast… should be big enough by then."

"What have you been feeding them?" Harry questioned curiously.

Hagrid shifted his feet and mumbled something incomprehensible. Harry raised his eyebrows. Well, whatever it was, it was unlikely to be as dangerous as the dragon last year, so he decided to let it be. The thought of dragon-eating pumpkins distracted him from his worries about Alduin and the diary at least a little, though.