Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor am I attempting to make any personal gain from this story.
Harry Slithers-in; Chamber of Secrets: Chapter 10: The Diary of T M Riddle
Tracey used the remainder of the holidays to decide exactly what she wanted from Ron, Neville and Hermione. Getting information from them about how Fred and George were so successful in their endeavours seemed like a good idea but that would really only apply to Ron. Asking Hermione or Neville to get information on Weasleys was hardly fair.
Ultimately she decided to deal with each separately. Neville was good at Herbology so that would be a start. Hermione was good at everything so there was an obvious and easy way to even that score while Ron could get what she really wanted. She decided that Ron would be the obvious one to start with.
"Hey, Weasley," she called to Ron when she found him with Hermione and Neville one day in early February they were returning from Hagrid's hut while she and Harry were heading out for a visit.
"What Davis?" Ron replied.
"Remember Christmas?" Ron nodded. Hermione and Neville both looked on nervously. Harry stood back to admire her work.
"Fred and George seem to know a lot about the castle. They seem to know their way around far better than would be reasonable for a student. What I would like from you is exactly how they gained this knowledge. I want a list of locations and passwords for secret doors or corridors and tunnels, including the kitchens."
"That will take ages," Ron complained. "Fred and George won't just give me that information simply because I asked for it."
"There's no hurry," Tracey continued. "As long as I get it by Easter you'll be in the clear and any information is better than no information. It shouldn't be too difficult to get at least some of what I'm asking for. If you put in a reasonable effort I'll be happy."
Ron shrugged. "Alright. I'll see what I can get. Let's go."
"Hermione, Neville," Tracey continued. "All I want from you is help improving my grades. Neville, you're good at Herbology so that's what I want from you and Hermione, I want help with Transfigurations, especially the practical side of the subject."
Both agreed but Ron complained, "Why have they got it so easy?"
Before Tracey could reply Harry interrupted, "Actually, Ron, Hermione hasn't got off that lightly; Transfigurations is Tracey's weakest subject. It will take some work for her to improve Tracey's marks."
Tracey looked angrily at Harry before marching off towards Hagrid's cabin. Harry hurried to catch up with her, leaving the Gryffindors looking bemused. When he caught up she turned to him. "Why did you say that in front of Gryffindors?"
"Well," Harry began, "it is true and I was making sure Ron didn't try and get away with a half-hearted effort. This way he knows he isn't being treated unfairly and will probably put in a little more effort."
"I wasn't going to let him off that easily," Tracey replied. "I still expect him to put in a reasonable effort and come up with something useful. I was going to say I was going easy on her because of the accident with the cat hair."
"Ok then. Please forgive me for speaking out of turn," Harry said by way of an apology.
It was as Harry and Tracey were returning to the castle from this visit they heard Filch shouting angrily from outside Myrtle's bathroom. They hurried up the stairs to the corridor and found the floor covered in water.
"Looks like Myrtles had another tantrum," Tracey commented. They could see the water still flowing from under the door to her bathroom. Tracey pushed the door open and a torrent of water greeted them. When it subsided slightly they found the floor was still covered in about an inch of water and that the taps were still turned on.
"Harry? Can you help me with the taps?" Tracey asked as she led Harry into the room.
As they went around turning off the taps Harry noticed one particular tap was not turned on. He made a mental note of it before joining Tracey who was trying to talk to Myrtle.
"Have you come to throw something else at me?" Myrtle wailed from her cubicle.
"We haven't thrown anything at you," Tracey replied, trying to soothe Myrtle. "Has somebody else thrown something at you?"
"I was just sitting here in my cubicle thinking about death when somebody thinks it's funny to come in here and start throwing things at me," Myrtle moaned as she emerged from her cubicle.
"What did they throw?" Tracey asked, trying to keep Myrtle talking.
"A book," she wailed. "It got washed out, it's over there." Myrtle pointed to a small, black book laying in the corner of the bathroom. Harry went to pick it up. He found it was a diary. The name on it was T. M. Riddle and it was clearly very old.
"Did you see who threw it?" Tracey asked.
"No!" Myrtle screeched. "I was in here minding my own business when…" Myrtle turned and dived back into the toilet, splashing more water over the already saturated floor.
'Well, we'd best be going," Tracey said, turning to Harry. "Now you know why nobody comes in here unless they have to. They left the bathroom.
"Potter, Miss Davis. What do you think you're doing?" Professor McGonagall demanded as they left.
"It's my fault, Professor," Tracey explained. "We heard Filch's shout and came to see what was wrong. Mr. Filch had left all the taps running so I asked Harry to help me turn them off."
Professor McGonagall looked sternly at Tracey. "Very well. As I'm sure you remember there have been a number of attacks, most of them in this area. You should have stayed away from here until the staff had investigated the matter, just in case there was something dangerous here. You may go."
Tracey and Harry hurried away from the bathroom. Fortunately McGonagall hadn't noticed the diary in Harry's hand or, if she had, she had assumed it was Harry's. Either way he now had possession of an unusual item that somebody else had tried to dispose of and now he was determined to find out what it was.
Once safely away Harry and Tracey looked through the diary. The date on it was 1943, exactly 50 years ago but it was completely blank. Whoever T. M. Riddle was he hadn't written anything in it; at least not in any easily recognisable way.
They remembered that Draco Malfoy had told them the Chamber of Secrets was last opened 50 years ago. This made them think the diary might have useful information on that incident so they redoubled their efforts to discover the diary's secret. They asked if anyone had heard the name T. M. Riddle before and were told his name was on an award for special services to the school and that he had once been head boy. Other than that they were unable to learn anything new or important about him.
Harry and Tracey tried everything they knew to try and discover the book's secret. They tried many different things but no matter what they did they came up with nothing. Despite that Harry decided to hold onto it, just in case.
The last attack had taken place before Christmas and, since then, everything had been quiet in the castle. Indeed it appeared as if Slytherin's monster had settled down for another 50 year sleep. Certainly that is what people were beginning to think as the level of nervous tension in the castle had considerably decreased. Not surprisingly Lockhart thought he was the one responsible for stopping the attacks.
"I must say the person responsible was very wise to stop when they did," Harry and his friends overheard Lockhart saying to the other teachers the day after he and Tracey had discovered the diary.
"What this school needs is a celebration to help raise moral amongst the she students," he continued.
Harry was immediately concerned about the implications of this and confided in the others that he was worried what Lockhart might do. They too were worried but decided there was nothing they could do to stop it.
The full implications of Lockhart's plan became clear to all on Valentine's Day. When Harry and his fellow Slytherins entered the Great Hall for breakfast they thought they had entered the wrong room. Everywhere they looked were the most garish pink hangings while at every table there were hundreds of pink, heart shaped pieces of paper. "Oh no, please tell me this isn't happening," Harry moaned as he looked around.
At the teacher's table Professor Lockhart, dressed in hideous, lurid pink robes, stood up. "Happy Valentine's Day,' he said loudly. "Firstly I would like to thank the 46 people who have already sent me Valentine's Day cards. As you can see ('All too well,' Harry muttered) I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise." Lockhart spread his arms as if encompassing the room, highlighting the decorations. "And it doesn't stop there."
Lockhart clapped his hands and a dozen surly looking dwarves wearing golden wings and carrying harps marched into the room.
"My friendly, card carrying cupids. Over the day they will be roving the castle delivering personal Valentine's Day messages to lucky students." ('The lucky ones would be those who didn't receive any,' Harry thought.) "And the fun doesn't stop there. I'm certain my collegues will enter into the spirit of things. Why don't you ask Professor Snape to whip up a love potion! ('Only if you have a death wish,' Harry thought) and, while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met." Looking at Flitwick, Harry got the impression the tiny Professor was looking for a hole to hide in.
"Daphne," Tracey said, "I hope you're not one of the 46."
The rest of the day was punctuated by dwarves barging into classrooms in the middle of lessons to deliver personalised Valentine's Day greetings. Harry extracted a promise from Tracey she wouldn't do that and she agreed on the condition Harry didn't get one for her. Unfortunately another student decided she would do one for Harry.
It happened as they were waiting outside the DADA classroom. One particularly surly looking dwarf came marching along just as a group of 1st years (including Ginny Weasley) were passing.
"Oy, you, 'arry Potter," it said. Harry looked at Tracey, who looked furious. He tried to run away but the dwarf caught up and knocked him down. "I've got a singing Valentine to deliver to 'arry Potter in person." The dwarf started playing his harp.
Harry tried to run away but the dwarf grabbed his bag which ripped, spilling its contents all over the floor and causing an ink bottle to smash over the lot. The dwarf pinned him down and began singing.
"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair as dark as a blackboard,
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."
Harry did his best to hide his embarrassment while Percy Weasley, a Gryffindor 6th year prefect, tried to disperse the laughing crowd. Tracey helped Harry pick up his things while Malfoy gloated.
"Hey Potter I didn't know you kept a diary," Malfoy said loudly. He was holding T. M. Riddle's diary which Harry was still carrying around, trying to figure out how it worked.
Tracey lunged at Malfoy and grabbed the diary away from him. "Oh I see," Malfoy said. "Davis doesn't want us to find out her dirty little secrets."
Tracey kicked him in the shin. "It's none of your business, Malfoy. And I hope this singing Valentine wasn't your idea."
"Of course it wasn't," Malfoy said angrily, rubbing his shin. "It seems Potter didn't think your card was funny, Weasley."
Harry and Tracey followed his gaze and saw Ginny Weasley looking horrified. She turned and bolted away down the corridor.
"That's enough," Percy Weasley shouted. "Move along, all of you, move."
Harry entered the DADA classroom with an extremely angry Tracey right behind him. They both sat in their usual seats at the back where Tracey handed the diary back to him. A moment later Tracey said, "That little Weaselle is getting on my nerves, thinking she can steal you away from me with such a ridiculous poem. If I get my hands on her I'll teach her a thing or two."
Harry wasn't really listening to Tracey's rant. When she had handed him the diary he had looked closely at it and discovered that, unlike everything else in his bag, it didn't have a spot of ink on it. It seemed he had finally figured out something about his mysterious diary. Somehow, it had the ability to absorb any ink in came in contact with. All he had to do now was figure out how to get it to display everything written in it.