The Very Secret Diary

Chrys had to remain in the hospital wing for several weeks.

There were so many rumours about her disappearance when all of the students who left for the Christmas holiday came back, as everyone thought she was attacked.

Many would go past the hospital wing to try and get a glimpse of her, resulting in Madam Pomfrey taking out curtains to place them around Chrys' bed to spare her any shame of being seen with a furry face.

Arthur and David would visit her every evening and when the new term started, they'd bring her each day's homework.

"If anyone else sprouted whiskers, they'd take a break from all of this." David commented as he placed a stack of books onto Chrys' bedside table one evening.

Chrys felt better as all of the cat hair was gone and her eyes were slowly turning back to her normal grey.

"Do either of you have any new leads?" She whispered to them to make sure Madam Pomfrey didn't hear her.

"Nothing." Arthur shook his head in frustration. He was recollecting all that Draco had told him and David and linked it with that look Lucius had at Flourish and Blotts after he handed Mary her book back with another. It made him dread that Lucius planted the seeds of what's going on here at the castle.

"Hey, what's that?" David asked, pointing to something gold her Chrys' pillow.

"A Get Well card from Lockhart." Chrys groaned, pulling it out and handing it to him to read.

"To Miss Ranger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."

David had a look of disgust wash over his face.

"Honestly, who writes this in a Get Well card?" He questioned as Madam Pomfrey came to give Chrys her evening dose of medicine.

The two boys left to go back to Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given out so much homework that Arthur thought it would take to fourth year to finish it all.

David was able to say something when they heard an angry outburst from the floor above them.

"Is that Filch?" Arthur questioned before they hurried up the stairs and paused to stay out of sight as they listened.

"Could someone have been attacked?" David asked tensely.

The two stood still, heads inclining to Filch's voice, which sounded hysterical.

"...even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore…."

They heard his footsteps receding as well as a distant door slamming.

They then poked their heads around the corner, seeing that Filch was manning his usual lookout post, where Mrs Norris was attacked.

A great flood of water stretched over half of the corridor, which meant that Filch was talking about Myrtle as the water came from the door to her bathroom.

With Filch's shouting gone, they could clearly hear her wailing echoing from the bathroom walls.

"What's gotten her miserable this time?" David questioned.

"Why don't we go find out?" Arthur suggested.

And so they held their robes over their ankles as they walked through the water, ignoring the 'Out of Order' signed door and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying much louder and harder than ever, which seemed impossible. She was also hiding in her usual toilet. Also, the candles were extinguished as the bathroom was darker than normal. This was because of the rush of water that made the floor and walls wet.

"Myrtle?"

"Who's that?" Myrtle glugged miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Arthur waded his way to her cubicle before saying. "Why would I want to throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me." She shouted as she emerged with a wave of water, splashing the already wet floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…."

"I don't see why they'd bother because it can't even hurt and just go right through you." Arthur pointed out, instantly realising he said the wrong thing as Myrtle puffed herself up before shrieking.

"Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha" What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Well, who threw it?" Arthur asked again, moving on from her fury.

"I don't know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head." She said, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out."

She pointed by their feet and they finally noticed a small, thick black book lying there. It was, of course, wet. Arthur bent down to pick it up but David suddenly pulled him back up.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, surprised by his action.

"That thing could be dangerous." David warned him, causing Arthur to scrunch his face in confusion.

"How the hell can a book be dangerous?" He questioned.

"You'd be surprised, mate." David said, glaring at the book. "There's some books that the Ministry confiscated, according to dad. He told me that there's one that burns a reader's eyes out. And those that read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. Plus an old witch in Bath had a book that could never stop reading!"

"Okay, then…." Arthur muttered, now getting a bit worried, looking down at the nondescript and soggy book on the floor.

"We have to figure out what's up with it." He then said before he bent back down and grabbed it.

It was a diary of some kind with the year on the cover having been faded, saying that it was around fifty years old. He then opened it up carefully and on the first page was the name of 'T. M. Riddle' in smudged ink. That last name rang a bell in his head.

"David! Is this the same Riddle on that trophy you threw up slugs on?" He asked, showing the name to him. David's eyes widened.

"It is! But why would it be flushed down a toilet?"

To see if there's anything significant about it, Arthur peeled apart all of the wet pages and found that they were completely blank. Not even one word was written.

"I don't get it, there's nothing in here." He then looked at the back cover and saw that the diary had come from a newsagent's in Vauxhall Road, London.

"He must've been either a Muggle-Born or a half-blood to get this from Vauxhall Road." He said aloud before he remembered what Draco said, making him snap his fingers and look at David.

"The Chamber was opened fifty years ago, remember? This is fifty years old as well, so Riddle must've been here when the attack on the Muggle-Born happened." David's eyes widened in realisation.

"We need to tell Chrys about this." He replied and they left, Arthur pocketing the diary.

At the beginning of February, Chrys finally left the hospital wing, completely back to normal.

On the first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Chrys was shown the diary and explained where they found it and how Riddle was a student when the Chamber was last opened.

"Perhaps it might have hidden powers." She said curiously, examining it closely.

"Just why would someone chuck it? And why would Riddle get an award for special services to Hogwarts?" Arthur pondered, scratching his head in thought.

"It could've been anything." David said. "Maybe he got the most O.W.L.s, saved a teacher, or…" His eyes grew the widest they've been as a thought came to him. "...he was the one who got the heir of Slytherin who opened the Chamber expelled!"

Both Arthur and Chrys gasped as this made the most sense.

"Of course! His diary could tell us everything: where the Chamber is, how to open it and what creature resides in it. But the person behind the attacks this time wouldn't want to leave this lying around." Chrys fired off.

"Despite being a brilliant theory, there's literally nothing written in his diary." David reminded her. But she then pulled her wand out.

"There could be invisible ink." She said, tapping the diary three times before she said "Aparecium!"

Nothing had happened, though this didn't phase Chrys, who shoved her hand into her back and pulled out what looked like a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer. I bought it in Diagon Alley."

She then rubbed it hard on 'January the first' and nothing happened.

"Look, I'm sure that he didn't write anything in it. He must've gotten it for Christmas and didn't bother filling it in." David sighed in defeat.

Arthur, for some reason, didn't want to throw the diary away. Despite knowing it was blank, he would absentmindedly pick it up and turn through its pages, trying to see if there was anything he and the other two missed. And there seemed to be a part of him that felt like Riddle was a friend he had when he was small and forgot him. He shrugged that feeling off, finding it all absurd and stupid. He only ever had his cousin Deacon as a friend before Hogwarts.

Finding himself drawn to Riddle, he decided to find out more about him the next day during break. He went to the trophy room to examine Riddle's award with Chrys and David.

Riddle's burnished gold shield was tucked in a corner cabinet, as though it was meant to be forgotten, and it didn't even mention anything about why he got the award.

With this, they looked and found his name on an old Medal for Magical Merit and on a list of old Head Boys.

"He seems like a pompous version of Sam. He's a Prefect, Head Boy, even at the top of every single class." David pointed out.

"It would seem like he was the perfect student." Chrys added.

The sun had finally begun to shine down on Hogwarts, though weakly. Inside the castle, the mood became cheerful as there haven't been any more attacks since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick and Madam Pomfrey was glad to report that the Mandrakes have become moody and secretive, which meant that they're leaving childhood.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again." She told Filch with kindness one afternoon, which Arthur overheard. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs Norris back in no time."

It would seem that whoever the heir of Slytherin was, they've lost their nerve. That it must've gotten more and more risky to open the Chamber of Secrets with the school becoming more alert and suspicious. Perhaps whatever the monster was is now hibernating for another fifty years.

Of course, Ernie Macmillan didn't have this mindset as he was still convinced that Arthur was the one responsible, that he had 'given himself away' at the Duelling Club. Peeves also didn't help. He'd just keep popping up in crowded corridors singing that he was guilty and did a dance routine as well.

With Lockhart, he seemed to think that he himself made the attacks stop. Arthur even overheard him telling McGonagall so while the Gryffindors lined up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva." He said, even tapping his nose knowingly with a wink. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught them. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on them. You know, what the school needs now is a morale booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more now, but I think I know just the thing…."

He tapped his nose once more before striding off.

His idea of a morale booster was clear during breakfast on February the fourteenth, Valentine's Day.

Arthur didn't have much sleep because of a late running Quidditch practice the night before. He hurried to the Great Hall a bit late and at first, he thought he walked through the wrong doors as his jaw dropped in horror.

The walls had large pink flowers covering them. And even worse, there was heart shaped confetti falling from the pale blue ceiling. He went right to the Gryffindor table where both David and Chrys sat, both having their heads on top of their arms on the table, no doubt just as horrified as he was.

"Lockhart?" He asked them knowingly as he sat next to them, wiping his bacon because confetti fell on it.

David wordlessly pointed to the High Table where the teachers sat. Lockhart wore lurid pink robes, matching the decorations and waved in silence. All the teachers that sat on either side of him were stone faced.

Arthur could see a muscle going in McGonagall's cheek. And Snape looked as though he was fed 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!"

He clapped his hands and a dozen surly looking dwarves marched through the doors to the Entrance Hall. But these dwarves all wore golden wings and carried harps, courtesy of Lockhart. Arthur was just amazed in shock at all of this.

"My friendly card carrying cupids!" Lockhart beamed. "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!"

Flitwick buried his face in his hands, which Arthur couldn't blame him for. And Snape looked like the first to ask him for Love Potion would be fed poison against their will.

"Whoever the forty six are are truly the biggest idiots imaginable." David groaned as they finally left the Great Hall for their first lesson of the day.

All day long, dwarves would barge into their classes to deliver Valentines, much to the annoyance of the teachers.

Late in the afternoon, as the Gryffindors walked upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarves caught up with Arthur.

"Oy, you! Arthur Pendergast!" A grim looking dwarf shouted, elbowing people out of the way to get to him.

The last thing he wanted was to be given a Valentine in front of his fellow second years, as well as a queue of first years that included Mary Merlon.

With this, he tried escaping, but the dwarf cut his way through the crowd, kicking them in the shins, and reached him before he even got to two paces.

"I've got a message to deliver to Arthur Pendergast in person" He said, twanging his harp threateningly.

"Not here!" Arthur spat, desperate to escape.

Then with a loud rip, his bag was split into two. His books, wand, parchment and quill all spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle also smashed all over his stuff.

Arthur tried picking it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing a hold up in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" Draco's cold, drawling voice called out. This made Arthur stuff everything in a blur into his ripped bag, beyond desperate to get away before Draco could hear his Valentine.

"What's all this commotion?" Sam's voice was heard as he arrived as well.

Starting to lose his head from all of the pressure, Arthur just tried making a run for it, but the dwarf had seized him around the knees, making him crash to the floor.

"Right…" The dwarf said, now sitting on Arthur's ankles. "...here is your Valentine."

"With eyes like emeralds and hair all black, the boy who lived will always have my heart."

Arthur would gladly give away all the gold he had in Gringotts just to evaporate as he groaned in disgust and embarrassment. He looked up to see everyone else laugh at him, except for David, Chrys and even Mike, who looked crestfallen, clearly feeling bad for him.

Once the dwarf got off of him, leaving his feet numb from his weight, Arthur got up as Sam did his best to disperse the crowd, some of which cried with mirth.

"Come on, you lot, off you go! The bell rang five minutes ago, off to class." Sam said, shooing the younger students. "And you, Malfoy."

Arthur looked over and saw Draco snatch up something. He then showed it to Crabbe and Goyle with a leer as Arthur finally realised that it was Riddle's diary.

"Give that back, Draco." He hissed warningly.

"Wander what Pendergast's written in this?" Drack said, not noticing the year on the cover, seemingly thinking it was Arthur's own diary yet he had a look in his eyes that seemed like he knew it and had seen it before.

A hush had fallen over the onlookers, which included Mary, who stared at the diary and to Arthur, terrified.

"Give it back to Arthur, Malfoy." Sam ordered sternly.

"When I've had a look." Draco waved the dairy at Arthur, taunting him.

"As a Prefect -"

For the first time he could recall, Arthur had lost his temper as he pulled out his wand and shouted "Expelliarmus!" and like Snape disarming Lockhart, Malfoy watched the diary shoot out of his hand and into the air. David managed to catch it.

"Arthur…" Sam said, sounding a bit disappointed yet admiringly so. "You know no magic is to be done in the corridors. I'll have to report this."

Arthur didn't really care as he truly had one over Draco and he felt it was worth losing five points from Gryffindor.

Of course, Draco looked furious and as Mary passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled after her in spite.

"I don't think Pendergast liked your Valentine much!"

Arthur frowned. Since when did Mary have a crush on him? Regardless, Mary covered her face with her hands as she ran into class. David was snarling over that as they all went to Charms class.

When they reached Flitwick's class, Arthur finally saw something that made him think that there was something odd about Riddle's diary. While all of his other books were covered in scarlet ink, the diary was completely clean, as though the ink had never touched even an inch of it.

He would've told David about this, but he was having trouble with his wand once more as large purple bubbles grew out of the end.

Arthur decided to go to bed before anyone else in his dormitory that night. This was so that he could examine Riddle's diary, knowing that David would say he was wasting his time, not knowing about what Arthur had recently discovered about it.

He sat on his four poster bed, flicking through the blank pages, further confirming the fact that there wasn't a trace of the scarlet ink on it. He pulled out a new bottle from his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it and dropped a blot on the first page.

For a second, the ink shone bright on the paper until it ended up being sucked into the page, vanishing. Shocked, he dipped his quill a second time and wrote 'My name is Arthur Pendergast.'

The words shone for a moment on the page before sinking without a trace as well. Then something of real interest had finally happened.

His own ink oozed back out of the page, but words he didn't write appeared instead.

'Hello, Arthur Pendergast. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?'

The words then faded away. Arthur wrote in response.

'Someone tried flushing it down a toilet.'

He waited patiently for Riddle's response.

'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 exactly do you mean?' Arthur wrote back.

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

'Well, I'm at Hogwarts right now. Terrible things are happening. Do you happen to know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?'

Arthur's heart was now beating a mile a minute as Riddle quickly replied, his writing looking to be a bit untidy, like he was rushing to tell him 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.'

Arthur immediately wrote back after he read the whole reply.

'Well, it's happening again. There's been three attacks so far and whoever's behind it hasn't been caught yet. Who did it last time?'

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

This made Arthur confused as he suspended his quill over the diary. How would he be taken inside a memory? He ended up looking at the dormitory door, which grew dark.

He then looked back at the diary, seeing new words form.

'Let me show you.'

Arthur decided that he may as well, writing his response.

'Alright.'

Immediately, the pages of the diary blew as though they were caught in a high wind, stopping at pages halfway through the month of June.

With his mouth hung open, Arthur saw the little square for the thirteenth of June turning into what looked like a tiny TV screen. His hands then raised the book to press his eye against the small window and before realising what's going on, he fell forwards as the window widened, feeling his body leave the bed and pitch headfirst through the opening in a whirl of colour and shadow.

Then he felt his feet on solid ground. He stood, shaking as the blurred shapes around him became clear and focused.

He was surprised to see that he was in Dumbledore's office, yet Dumbledore wasn't sitting behind the desk.

Sitting there was a wizened, frail looking bald wizard except for wisps of white hair. He was reading a letter by candlelight. Remembering that this was supposed to be a memory that he entered in, this must be Headmaster Dippet.

"Hello…?" He asked aloud, just to make sure that this was a memory, and therefore, can't interact with what's happening. Upon seeing that the old wizard didn't reply, he was indeed in a memory.

Dippet continued reading, frowning slightly before folding the letter up with a sigh. He then stood up and walked up the stairs to the observatory and looked out the window. Arthur could see that the sky outside was ruby red, meaning the sun was setting. Dippet then walked back to the desk and sat, twiddling his thumbs and eyeing the door for some reason.

Arthur looked around the office, seeing that the one consistent thing was all of the portraits, which were all sleeping. There weren't Fawkes or even whirring silver contraptions.

This was indeed Hogwarts as Riddle knew it and Arthur was like an invisible ghost to the people half a century ago.

Then there was a knock on the office door.

"Enter." Dippet said in a feeble voice.

A boy at the age of fifteen or sixteen entered. He was much taller than Arthur and had jet black hair, like Arthur, but it was proper and had a parting to the right. Arthur then noticed that the boy was also a Slytherin and a Prefect as he had the badge that signified it.

Also, for some reason, Arthur felt a simmering anger upon looking at him. The only time he ever felt anything similar to this was when he faced Voldemort in the last school year.

"Ah, Riddle." Dippet greeted him.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" Riddle asked, seemingly nervous yet Arthur had a gut instinct that this was just a front.

"Sit down. I've been reading the letter you sent me." Dippet told him.

"Oh." Riddle said, sitting down and gripping his hands together very tightly.

"My dear boy." Dippet said kindly. "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No." Riddle replied instantly. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that - to that -"

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" Dipped asked curiously.

"Yes, sir." Riddle said, reddening slightly, which Arthur suspected out of embarrassment.

"You are Muggle-Born?"

"Half-blood, sir. Muggle father, witch mother." This intrigued Arthur because Slytherins are normally pure-bloods. What kind of attributes did Riddle have to make him be sorted into that house?

"And are both your parents -?"

"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived long enough to name me: Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."

Dippet then clucked his tongue in sympathy.

"The thing is, Tom…" He sighed. "...special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…."

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" Riddle said, making Arthur move in closer, just so he won't miss anything.

"Precisely." The Headmaster told him. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in the light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl…. You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the, er, source of all this unpleasantness…."

This made Riddle's eyes widen.

"Sir… if the person was caught…. If it all stopped…." Arthur couldn't help but think that he knew more than he let on.

"What do you mean?" Dippet said with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir." Riddle quickly replied, making Arthur glare at him. He definitely knew more than he let on. Yet he himself said pretty much the same thing to Dumbledore.

Dippet sank back in his chair, looking disappointed.

"You may go, Tom…."

Riddle slid off his chair and exited the room, Arthur following after him.

They went down the moving spiral staircase emerging next to the metal gryphon in the dark corridor. As Riddle stopped, so did Arthur. Seeing Riddle on his own, Arthur saw a look on his face that told him he was doing some serious thinking and didn't resemble the nervous and quiet boy he acted like in the Headmaster's office as he bit his lip and his forehead furrowed.

He seemed to have come to a realisation because he then hurried off. Arthur glided without noise after him. It was only at the Entrance Hall that they saw another person as a tall wizard with long, sweeping auburn hair and beard called to Riddle by the marble staircase.

"What are you doing wandering around this late, Tom?"

Arthur looked and his eyes widened as the wizard was a younger Dumbledore.

"I had to see the Headmaster, sir." Riddle told him.

"Well, hurry off to bed." Dumbledore told him, giving him that penetrating stare Arthur knew very well. It seems that Dumbledore also suspected something about Riddle. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…."

He released a heavy sigh and bade Riddle goodnight and strode off.

Riddle stayed and watched him out of sight before moving quickly, heading to the stone steps leading to the dungeons. Arthur was of course right behind him.

Arthur was confused when Riddle entered the dungeons he had Potions with Snape and not to a secret passageway or even a secret tunnel.

The torches weren't lit and when Riddle pushed the door to be almost closed, Arthur only saw Riddle standing very still by the door, watching the passage outside.

Time dragged as Arthur waited for something to happen, watching Riddle at the door, staring through the crack. Then suddenly, something moved beyond the door.

Someone was creeping down the passage and Arthur heard whoever it was pass where he and Riddle hid. Riddle then edged through the door, as quiet as a shadow. Arthur followed after him, of course.

For roughly five minutes, the two followed the footsteps until Riddle stopped very suddenly, head inclined to where new noises were. Arthur heard a door open and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon… gotta get yeh outta here… c'mon now… in the box…."

Arthur quickly realised that the voice he was hearing was a young Hagrid based on the accent and how words are said.

Riddle then jumped around the corner and Arthur stepped behind him. He saw the dark outline of a large boy, clearly Hagrid, crouching in front of an open door with a very large box next to it.

"Evening, Rubeus." Riddle said sharply.

Hagrid slammed the door shut and stood up. His robes showed that he was in Gryffindor.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"

Riddle stepped closer to him.

"It's all over. I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

"What d'yeh -"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and -"

"It never killed no one!" Hagrid cut him off, backing up against the closed door. Arthur heard a funny rustling and clicking from the other side of the door.

"Come on, Rubeus." Riddle said, moving closer still. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered…."

"It wasn't him!" Hagrid roared, his voice echoing in the dark passage. "He wouldn't! He never!"

"Stand aside." Riddle warned him, now drawing out his wand.

He shot a spell that lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind Hagrid then flew open with such force that it knocked him into the opposite wall. Then out came a large spider, making Arthur truly scream because he instantly knew what it was as it wasn't an ordinary spider.

It had a vast, low slung hairy body with a tangle of black legs, eight gleaming eyes and razor sharp pincers, which explained the clicking he heard. A magical spider called an acromantula.

Riddle raised his wand again, yet he was too late. The magical spider bowled him over as it crawled away at top speed up the corridor and out of sight. Riddle scrambled up to his feet, looking in the direction it went, raising his wand again. But then Hagrid leapt on him, seizing his wand and threw him back down yelling "NOOOOOOO!"

The scene then whirled, making the darkness become complete. Arthur then felt himself falling and sudenly found himself spread eagle on his four poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle's diary lying open on his stomach.

Before he could regain his breath and thoughts about what he saw, the dormitory door opened up and David entered.

"There you are." He said. Arthur then sat up, sweaty and shaky.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" David asked with concern.

"I think I just saw Riddle frame Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."

I forgot to mention that the Headmaster's office is just like as it is in the films, just more bigger.

And as you can see, Arthur doesn't automatically believe what he has just seen like Harry did.