Disclaimer – If I was J .K. Rowling the books would have been filled with smutty slash scenes. As such, they are not, so I guess I'm not her.
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17th August, 1992
Harry stared in shock as the words appeared on the page, vanishing after a moment. He wasn't quite sure how to respond, when another sentence formed.
'How did you come by my diary?'
Harry supposed that was a way to start a conversation.
'I found it amongst my new books' he wrote. 'Did you lose it or something?'
He had never seen or heard of anything like this before, and he waited with bated breath as his words vanished, fresh ink then showing Tom's answer.
'Yes, this is my diary, but I didn't lose it; rather it has been untouched for a very long time. I was simply surprised that you have found it.'
'But how exactly are you writing to me?' he asked. When the answer took slightly longer to come, Harry panicked a bit, worried he had maybe offended Tom in some way. He smiled when he saw a response come through.
'I wrote in this diary during my time at Hogwarts, and it had been a great source of comfort to me during those years. As I got older, I decided that I wanted to make sure that others had somebody to confide in when they could turn to no other, so I preserved a memory of myself inside the diary, as to help any who came by it, only it seems in all this time you are the only one I've come across.'
Harry hummed in response, although he didn't think Tom could hear him. What Tom said made sense, though he had probably used a seventh year spell which Harry wouldn't understand yet. The way Tom spoke to him though; it seemed like he was lonely, and Harry knew that feeling all too well.
'So are you like a diary that can talk back?' he wrote, just checking for clarification. He smiled when the word 'yes' appeared.
Harry was going to write something else, but more writing appeared before Harry could ask any more.
'So Harry, why don't you tell me about yourself?'
Harry thought for a moment. 'Err, I'm twelve, in Gryffindor, and I'll be starting my second year of Hogwarts in a couple of weeks.'
'What about your family? What are your friends like?'
'I live with my parents and my younger sister; we're all quite close. As for friends…I don't really have many; well none at all to be honest. I get on with my dormmates but not that well. There's five of us, and Seamus and Dean are best friends, and so are Ron and Neville, so I get left out. I met Ron on the train in my first year and we got on really well, but then he met Neville, and Neville's famous, so he ditched me for him.'
Harry felt a smidgen of anger run through him at the thought of Neville stealing Ron from him. Maybe with Ron he wouldn't have felt so alone.
'What is Neville famous for?' Tom asked. It seemed strange to Harry that someone would not know who Neville Longbottom was, but then again, Tom was over fifty years old.
'There was an evil wizard a few years ago and it seemed that nobody could stop him. One day he tried to kill Neville when he was a baby, but Neville somehow survived and destroyed the evil wizard. They call him the 'Boy Who Lived' now, and people treat him like he's the next Merlin, but he's not really anything that special.'
Harry supposed he may just be feeling bitter, but being able to rant about Neville freely felt good. The Gryffindors worshiped the boy, while the Slytherins wouldn't let Harry talk to them about him, so he enjoyed having the chance to be open.
'What was the name of this wizard?'
Harry hesitated; he had been told saying the name aloud was bad, but then again, he was only writing it, and he didn't want to get Tom mad; he couldn't lose a potential friend.
'Voldemort. We call him 'You Know Who' most of the time though.'
'He must have been after my time' Tom replied. 'That seems an odd reason for a boy to reject your friendship. This Neville doesn't seem like he deserves the fame for something he did as a small child, back when he wouldn't even have known what was happening.'
Harry outright grinned at Tom's words; he hadn't been won over by Neville's story, so he hoped that meant Tom wouldn't reject him now. He grinned further as Tom wrote to him again.
'You don't have to worry anymore Harry. I'll be your friend.'
24th October, 1992
Harry had spent the rest of the summer and all of his free time out of lessons writing to Tom. He told Tom all of his problems, and sometimes just spoke as if Tom was really there, and the older boy would listen, and tell Harry everything he needed to hear. He was now even more distanced from his housemates than he had been last year, but as long as he had Tom he was happy.
He was rushing to get back to his dorm room from dinner so he could talk to Tom in private. Distracted by the thought of the diary, he wasn't really paying any attention to where he was going until he ran directly into another person.
The person dropped their armful of stuff onto the floor, and feeling guilty, Harry stopped to help them pick the stuff up, much like the elder Malfoy had done for him in the summer.
There were a lot of things on the floor, and as they stood, Harry realised the girl didn't have a bag. She was small, a first year, with scruffy blonde hair and big silver eyes. He didn't remember seeing her around before, but he had spent most of his time focused on a certain book rather than anything else this term.
"Sorry for making you drop everything" he apologised.
"That's quite alright. I could see that you had your mind on more important things" the girl responded. She sounded sincere in her words, and didn't seem bothered by the incident in the slightest.
"Why don't you have a bag?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.
"It's gone missing. I believe that nargles are to blame" she told him. Harry had no idea what a nargle was, but he believed it was more likely to be other students taking her things than some fantasy creature.
"Would you like me to help you look for it?" he offered. She seemed to be an outcast, much like him, and he thought it would be better if they stuck together.
"Oh, no thank you. I don't mind carrying everything around; that way I can keep an eye on it better."
Harry nodded slowly, offering the girl a smile. "Well if you need any help let me know. I'm Harry, by the way."
"Luna" she supplied, smiling back at him before she started to walk off, humming happily to herself as she went.
Harry laughed gently to himself before breaking into a run to get back to his bed. He drew the curtains around him and flipped the diary open.
'Tom…guess what? I think I've made a real friend today' he wrote excitedly, frowning when Tom didn't respond right away. Normally the boy would write back instantly.
'That's nice' Tom finally wrote back, and Harry got the feeling it was said rather coldly. He thought maybe he was just being paranoid, so he decided to tell Tom more about her.
'She's a first year called Luna. I think people are bullying her but she doesn't seem to let it get her down, and she seems really nice. She's a bit weird but I guess I am too.'
Once again Tom didn't reply straight away.
'Is everything okay Tom?' he asked.
'I thought I was your real friend' came the response, and Harry realised how Tom had taken his previous statement.
'I meant real as in physically real' Harry answered truthfully. He didn't want Tom to be mad at him. 'I wish you were real' he added as an attempt to soften the older boy.
'If I found a way to become real, would you help me?' Tom asked, and Harry's heart soared with the possibility.
'Of course Tom; I'd do anything.'
'Well then, I need you to not talk to that Luna girl again' the diary told him.
'Why?'
'Because Harry, excuse me if this sounds silly, and perhaps I am just being worried over nothing, but I fear that if you go making new friends with others, then you won't write to me as much as you do now, perhaps even going as far as forgetting me altogether. I was so lonely before you found me, and I don't think I could ever offer my friendship to anyone else now I know you; but no, I believe I am just being foolish. You should do as you wish.'
Harry smiled as he read Tom's words; he couldn't believe his friendship meant that much to Tom; he had thought it was just one-sided. Tom had a point as well; if he and Luna became good friends, then he wouldn't be able to talk to Tom as much. Luna could make friends with anyone in the castle, but all Tom had was Harry.
'Don't worry Tom, you're all I need. I won't let anyone else ruin that.'
31st October, 1992
Harry looked around his dormitory with a start; he swore he had just been in the library. Another thing he noticed was the window showed the sky outside to be pitch black, whereas it had been daylight before. He frowned; he had no idea what had happened, almost like he had missed many hours from the day.
He checked and found that the diary was still safe. He was going to ask Tom if he had any idea of what could have happened when he saw that he had red paint splashed over the front of his robes. He had certainly not touched any paint for the last few years, so how he had some on him now he couldn't explain. He decided not to tell Tom anything after all; he didn't want him to think he was crazy.
He shakily changed clothes, afterwards placing a trembling hand on the window as he stared out into the sky that he never saw change.
8th November, 1992
He didn't know why, but Harry found that he seemed to be feeling weaker as the days went by. This was now the second time where he found himself with no clue where he had been or what he had been doing. He thought it would make sense to go and see Madame Pomfrey, but he found he was too scared to go.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsure where he should go.
'Hey you! What are you doing out of bed at this hour?' a voice called out from the darkness.
He spun around to see Percy Weasley glaring at him. He opened his mouth to say something but found no sound would come out.
'Five points from Gryffindor. Let me escort you back to the common room Harry; it's not safe to be out this late' the redhead scolded, and Harry followed him silently back to the portrait of The Fat Lady.
Percy left him with a scowl, and Harry found he couldn't avoid telling Tom any longer; the older boy seemed to know Harry was hiding something from him.
'Tom, I don't know what to do. I'm scared' he wrote, trying his best to control the quill in his shaky hands.
'What's wrong Harry?' the book answered, and the very quick reply gave Harry a source of comfort.
'I feel weak all of the time, and twice now it feels like I've lost my memories. Remember when I told you about that night when someone painted threatening messages on the wall as well as petrifying a cat? Well that same night I ended up in my room with paint down my robes and with no idea how, and I have a horrible feeling something bad has happened tonight, when I was suddenly in the corridors…I can't be to blame for the paint and the cat can I? What if I'm doing something to the people in the school?'
He sobbed and a tear splashed onto the pages.
'Harry, please don't cry; I don't believe you have anything to do with what is going on. It sounds far too advanced for a twelve year old boy; even I wouldn't know the magic involved in petrifying something. It sounds like very dark magic to me. Please don't be upset by this; you're probably having side effects from your magic growing as you do. It's very common and nothing to worry about. Just ignore it and it will work itself out.'
'Really? I'm just frightened I guess…'
'Don't hurt yourself over this Harry. I wish I could be there with you, to reassure you that everything will be okay, but for now you'll have to take my word for it.'
Harry wished Tom could be there with him too.
18th December, 1992
Harry had had another bout of memory loss. He had been inside one moment, the next he was out on the grounds, rooster feathers covering the front of his robes. He brushed them off him in shock and sprinted to his room, ignoring the shouts of prefects as he went.
'Tom…I think I've just killed some roosters. I was covered in feathers, and some were killed before, so that must have happened again. What if Neville is making me do it? Remember yesterday I told you he spoke Parseltongue? People are saying now he's the Heir of Slytherin. He could be framing me.'
'You think Neville possesses the skills that would come with being Heir of Slytherin?' Harry could almost sense Tom's repulsion in the idea, though that did little to comfort Harry.
'He can talk to snakes, but I guess he isn't really good at much else apart from Herbology. That and getting himself into bad situations, but if he isn't the heir, then who is? They say last time the Chamber of Secrets opened, a monster killed a girl. What if it's the same one that hurt that boy Colin before? What if-?'
Harry didn't get chance to finish what he was writing as the dorm room door banged open, and Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas walked in, sombre expressions on their faces. He shut the diary and hastily shoved it under his bed covers, having forgotten to draw his curtains in his haste to talk to Tom.
"Don't you know how to knock?" he snapped. The two boys just looked at him oddly and Seamus winked. Harry just scowled further, and Dean seemed to catch onto his mood.
"There was another attack" the boy explained to him. "Nearly-Headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley have both been petrified. Ernie Macmillan said Neville was found at the scene, the day after he spoke to that snake and Justin freaked out when it nearly bit him. Weird, don't you think?"
Harry nodded and drew his curtains shut, shutting out the two boys. The only times they really spoke to him was when it involved gossip, and half the time they would innocently enough repeat the conversation to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, not knowing the girls would twist it to use for spreading rumours.
'Two more have been petrified' Harry wrote, lip trembling. If Neville had been found at the scene, then surely he had been the perpetrator, not Harry, but Tom didn't seem to think Neville had it in him.
'Where did you go, Harry?' Tom asked, ignoring what Harry had said.
'My dorm mates came in. They said two more were attacked and Neville was found at the scene, but you don't think Neville could do it, and I don't remember some of what I did today…'
'You're blaming yourself again Harry; you shouldn't do that or else you'll give yourself more worries, and stress can have a negative effect on your health; perhaps that is another reason why you feel so weak at times. There is something bad going on, but you've got nothing to do with it. Let's try and keep your mind of it shall we? Tell me about your least favourite professor.'
'My least favourite…that's probably Snape; I know I've mentioned him before. He's my sister's godfather, and you'd think the way he treats her that he's lovely, but he's always so mean to me, no matter how hard I try. I really do try in Potions because I know it's my worst class, but nothing I do is ever good enough. And then there's Lockhart, our new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. Our one last year was evil, but at least he was a good teacher. Lockhart is so up himself.'
'You don't seem to have the best of professors. When I was at Hogwarts I was rather fortunate. My head of house was a very good man. Do you feel any better now Harry? I'll talk to you as long as you need me to, even if we're up all night.'
'Thank you Tom. You always know just what to say.'
28th January, 1993
Harry felt slightly better now that he had been at home for the Christmas holidays. It gave him a break from the fearful atmosphere at Hogwarts. He could still feel himself weakening every day, but he hadn't heard of any more attacks, and nor had he lost any memories.
Despite that, he was still happy to be back at Hogwarts away from his parents, more specifically his mother. She never seemed to give him any time alone, when all he wanted was to talk to Tom freely, but with Lily on his back, he might as well have been at lessons with all the time she took up, so in the end he spent most of his time refusing to leave his room. His father and Sirius thought he was going through a phase and laughed it off, but his mother came up with a range of ideas, ranging from him being seriously bullied, to having an eating disorder, and to being heavily involved with the Dark Arts. Tom found this all very funny.
He was still worried the attacks would start up again, and he was just waiting for something to happen.
He sighed, drawing his knees to his chest. He was sat by the lake, coat wrapped heavily around himself for warmth, lost in thoughts until a dreamy voice caught his attention.
"Hello again Harry" the voice said, and Harry could instantly tell it was Luna, despite only ever speaking to her once; he made sure to avoid her after what Tom had said. "It's awfully cold to be sat out here."
"You're out here too" Harry reminded her.
"I'm going to look for Gulping Plimpies. You're welcome to join me if you like?"
Harry seriously considered it, before remembering his pledge to Tom.
"I'm sorry Luna, not today" he replied, offering her a sad smile. He felt bad rejecting her, but Tom was more important. She didn't seem bothered though.
"Well if you get tired of your thoughts I'm sure you'll be able to find me." With that said she skipped off, and Harry smiled inwardly.
After a while he walked back to the castle, stopping at the library along the way. It was only when he got back to his room later that he realised the diary was missing.
14th February, 1993
It had only been just over a fortnight without the diary, but Harry honestly felt like his life was falling apart without it. Without Tom to talk to, he was once again completely alone, with nobody but himself for company. He searched high and low for the book, but nowhere left any hint of it.
He shut the rest of his classmates off fully; seeing how happy they were with their friends made him miss Tom even more.
He had ended up breaking down a couple of days ago, right in the middle of Potion's class. Snape had been particularly horrible to him, only this time he wouldn't have someone there to tell him why Snape was wrong, and why Harry was so much better than the insults the professor threw at him.
He moped around the corridors as he made his way to Charms class, when a commotion made him stop. Neville Longbottom was sprawled across the floor, a dwarf singing a Valentine to him. The creature had ripped the boy's bag open, and lying clearly amongst the quills and parchments was the diary. He couldn't believe that Neville had had it all along; first of all he had stopped Ron being friends with him, and now he was trying to take Tom too.
It took all the strength he could muster not to grab the diary there and then. If he did that, Neville would certainly know something was up; he was sure the Boy Who Lived would have figured how to use the diary by now.
Harry sent Neville a false smile as they locked eyes. Neville grinned back, a blush still staining his cheeks, and he seemed unaware Harry held any resentment against him, but Harry would stop at nothing to get Tom back.
20th February, 1993
Harry finally had the dormitory alone, with no chance of being interrupted. The other boy's had gone for some chess tournament of Ron's, meaning Harry had the opportunity to search for the diary.
He set to work, pulling everything from Neville's trunk, pulling the sheets from the duvet and pillows and flipping over his mattress. That was where he found it. He grinned as closed his hand over the worn cover, not being able to bare another minute without Tom.
'Tom, I'm so sorry Tom. I didn't mean for you to get lost. I wanted to find you so much' he wrote desperately, almost sobbing in relief.
'Don't worry Harry; we're back together again now. Just promise you'll be more careful from now on; Neville was such a bore to talk to. I missed you.'
'I'm never going to let you out of my sight again Tom. You're my best friend in the whole world. I'll never let you go.'
Harry never noticed that he had been regaining strength until the diary was back in his possession.
8th May, 1993
Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater were the latest petrified victims, their attacks being the last straw which meant that Dumbledore was removed as Headmaster, and once again Harry found himself with a period missing from his memory.
He had played stupid when Neville asked him before why his bed had been torn apart, and the boy believed him, but lately Hermione had been giving him strangely sympathetic looks, and although he didn't want to admit it, he felt a bit glad she had been attacked. More worrying, he now found he didn't care how many more students were attacked, as long as he got to stay with Tom.
27th May, 1993
'Tom, I think I'm going to collapse one of these days. I have no energy to do anything, all I want to do is stay in my bed and talk to you' Harry wrote, ignoring the pains in his hands and arms from his quill usage. The fact it hurt to write should have screamed danger to Harry, but he didn't want to be told to take a break from writing.
'I might be able to help you Harry. Do you remember when I said about getting a body for myself and becoming real?'
'Yes' Harry responded, excitement rushing through him at the prospect.
'I think I've found a way to do that. I need a day or two to finalise everything, but with any luck I'll be able to return, and then I can help you physically. Everything I'm doing, I'm doing for you Harry. Remember that.'
'Do anything you need Tom. I just want to be with you forever.'
'It will be forever Harry. It will be.'
29th May, 1993
'Harry, we're ready' Tom wrote. Harry grinned widely.
'Really? You can become real now?'
'Yes, but I need you to do something for me first' Tom replied.
'Anything.'
'I need you to come to the Chamber of Secrets.'
Harry didn't know quite what had happened. One second he was on his bed, staring incredulously at the comment, the next he was in a large chamber with wet stone flooring and many statues of snake heads along it's sides.
"Harry; it is nice to finally meet you in person" a male voice said behind him, and he span around, coming face to face with a misty, almost transparent figure. Harry knew that it was Tom Riddle.
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Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. Somebody asked about Neville's power in this, and while he won't be quite as awkward as he is in the first few books, he isn't going to be ultra-powerful either.
Also, in my mind, Tom Riddle in this is more along the lines of Christian Coulson (the Tom from the CoS movie), than Frank Dillane (HBP!Tom) Nothing against Frank, but let's face it; Christian literally oozes with psychopathic sexiness.
See you next update.