The next day, Brooklyn noticed Harry being down in the dumps as they all sat down at the tables in the Great Hall, some people looking and whispering at them.

Brooklyn and Harry ended up meeting an excitable first year. Colin Creevey, who always carried around a Muggle camera and taking photos, plus he talked nonstop. But Brooklyn figured that was the way with Colin. At least he didn't run away at first sight of him, which cheered the gargoyle up some.

Things spiraled downhill even more as Brooklyn spotted a familiar gray owl fly in, carrying a bright red envelope. He flopped onto the table, right into the milk jug.

Ron grimaced. "Bloody bird's a menace!" He cried out, taking the envelope. And in just two seconds, the color in his face drained and his face fell.

"What's wrong? Brooklyn asked in concern.

"She-she sent me a howler," Ron croaked, hands shaking.

The gargoyle was confused. What on earth was a howler?

He got his answer as Ron opened it and had to cover his ears as Mrs. Weasley's yells, ten times louder than usual, echoed through the room.

"HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED! AND I THOUGHT I COULD HAVE MORE FAITH IN BROOKLYN FOR STOPPING YOU TWO FROM BEING SEEN!"

Brooklyn flushed red with shame. He wondered when his name would come. Not wanting to hear the rest, he stood up and made his way back to the common room, his heart ridden with guilt, not seeing Harry and Hermione's worried faces, and trying to comfort him, but he didn't want to stay there, with everybody watching. Flint was leering at his retreating form as he continued to walk out.

"Not so popular with the weasels anymore, huh Freak Job?"

Brooklyn's heart burned with cold anger at the Slytherin captain for insulting them but didn't respond. At last, he made it to the comforts of his room, sitting on the floor near his cot, staring blankly at the floor and wrapping his wings around himself again.

He sat there for a time, just thinking. He never felt more ashamed, letting down the one human family that had welcomed him into their home as one of them. And now he didn't know if he could ever face Mrs. Weasley again after his mess up with that flying car, probably now running wild in the Forbidden Forest.

Brooklyn suddenly remembered the strange little diary he found in Flourish and Blotts. Deciding it was better than sulking, he pulled it out from under his pillow. Staring at the name, Tom Riddle, he now wondered if this kid had ever let down anybody he loved, too.

Well, it's now or never, Brooklyn thought to himself, giving into his curiosity, hoping it will help him feel better as he readied himself, and opened the book.

It was blank.

Disappointment welled up. He didn't even write in it? Brooklyn flipped through the pages, hoping there was something, but nothing.

Guess this kid was probably some rich schmuck who bought a book and couldn't be bothered to fill it in, he thought to himself. Oh well, maybe he can write something funny to cheer himself up.

Pulling out a quill and ink, he began to write a joke, a blank expression on his face.

Knock Knock.

As he was about to continue, he was startled as his words disappeared and replaced with handwriting that wasn't his own.

Who's there?

Excitement replaced his disappointment. So this was a magic diary? One that wrote back to you? Sweet! Hand shaking, Brooklyn wrote something else.

Boo.

Boo Who?

Beginning to laugh, Brooklyn wrote the rest of the joke.

Don't cry, it's only a knock knock joke!

The writing vanished and new words appeared.

Yeah, I've heard funnier jokes than this one, Friend.

Brooklyn's heart thumped. He hadn't felt this excited in ages.

Who are you? He wrote, praying that he would be answered.

I'm Tom Riddle, the owner of this diary. But who is writing to me right now? You aren't familiar.

Brooklyn wrote back.

Please don't freak out, but the one writing to you right now isn't a human. I'm a gargoyle.

Tom's reply came, looking rather shocked, but not in a mean way like he expected.

Really? An actual gargoyle? Wow! I had thought they died out ages ago! What is your name?

My name is Brooklyn. I used to live in Manhattan, New York, and I'm now at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A wizard named Puck sent me here by a magic spell.

That's a cool name for you, named after the Brooklyn Bridge, I expect?

Yes, that's right. My clan and I decided to name ourselves after the landmarks.

Brooklyn was speechless for a moment, not sure what to think of this strange book. Did he just make a new friend for himself again? One he can simply write to and keep near his bed?

Good name choices for your friends. But how did you come by my diary?

It was lying on the floor in a bookshop. I just found it and decided to take it with me to Hogwarts with my brother, Harry Potter. But what are you, exactly? I know your name, but how are you in this diary?

Waiting a few moments, the words appeared once again.

If you're worried about this being dark magic, not to fear, I'm simply an enchanted diary designed to help those who are lonely. I made it myself when I was alive.

Brooklyn raised his brow. A therapy diary? Seriously? Well, that doesn't sound so bad. That's when new words appeared.

So, you're at Hogwarts? I used to go there; you know. It was 50 years ago.

Yes, I am. Did you like going there?

Yes, I loved it there. I also knew Albus Dumbledore. He used to be the Transfiguration Teacher 50 years ago.

Wow, I never knew that! He's actually the Headmaster now, you know?

Looks like old Dumbledore has risen to the top already, eh? Impressive! I'm glad to have returned with you. Hogwarts had been the only real home I ever had!

Now Brooklyn was even more curious. Could it be possible that Tom was an orphan like Harry was?

Please, tell me more about yourself, Brooklyn. I can only get so much info about gargoyles from books. But to actually speak with one, this is a real honor! It's been so long since anybody has written in my diary!

Smiling again, Brooklyn continued to write, telling stories to Tom Riddle about his clan. From the massacre in 994 AD, to the night of the Hunter's Moon when Demona nearly destroyed all humanity with that potion vial. Tom replied back in all the right ways. Just like when he first told Harry his story.

So you guys are like superheroes, huh?

Brooklyn blushed.

Er, I wouldn't call us that. A lot of the humans still call us monsters even when we saved them.

But the way you describe your adventures, you really must be superheroes. People shouldn't look down on you like this! It's not right!

The gargoyle chuckled. At least Tom Riddle was easygoing and cared about how other kinds of humans treated him like Harry did.

I've heard that you mentioned a 'Harry Potter.' Could you tell me who he is? Is he a friend of yours?

Brooklyn was surprised. He didn't know?

Harry Potter is my human brother. He is hailed as the Boy Who Lived. Didn't anybody tell you?

No, nobody has written to me in ages like I said, so I'm left in the dark. Don't get news from outsiders very much.

Then Brooklyn began to talk about his brother to Tom; how he had defeated Voldemort; Their first meeting when Brooklyn had arrived; And when Harry had comforted him in his darkest hour when he still blamed himself for being fooled by Demona. It felt great to be able to share his story with somebody new.

He sounds like an amazing person. I'm glad somebody like you had formed such a strong bond with him.

And I'm glad I found somebody new to talk, er, write to.

Yes, you can always come to me if nobody is willing to listen to you, or if you're just feeling upset. It's what friends do.

Suddenly the door to the dormitory opened and Brooklyn jumped, closing the diary as he saw Harry there in the entrance, looking concerned.

He quickly put the book back under his pillow.

"Hi, Brooklyn! I haven't seen you most of the morning, so I came to check on you."

"Feeling fine. Why do you ask?" Brooklyn questioned nervously.

"Just wanted you to know that Ron and Hermione don't blame you for what happened. Ron says he takes full responsibility. And do you want to accompany us to greenhouse three for Herbology?"

Brooklyn cast his eyes down to his diary. He could just stay up here and keep writing to Tom, but something in his heart said he should get fresh air eventually.

He nodded. "Sure." Standing up, he accompanied Harry out, looking forward to speaking to Tom some more later in the day.