I have seen your heart (And It's Mine) | Tomarry

♤ The Diadem (Room of hidden things, 6th yr)

Harry was waisting a perfect good night's sleep for this.

Since his conscience had began screaming at him that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater he had been following him around at night. Again and again. Always in the Hidden Things room. Always in front of that goddamn cupboard. Harry didn't know why was Draco trying to fix that thing. Whatever the reason was, it definitely wasn't a good one.

So here he is. Alone this time, wandering through the room stuffed with antiques, objects whose existence people have long forgotten.

He hears whispers. Something... someone is calling him. It's like that time with the basilisk all over again.
Most people would have run the hell out of there, seeing as bad things happened the last time they had heard voices. Most people aren't as impulsive as him though.

So he doesn't leave. He stays and continues searching for the source of the whispers. He forgets all about Malfoy and his very suspicious cupboard. He forgets the initial reason for why he was here in the first place. All that matters now is locating that magically charged object that calls to him so intently.

He sees shelves filled with dusty books. He sees tables with crowns and diamonds and discarted broomsticks. He even sees food. Dishes full of pork and fish fillet that have grown to rot throughout the years. He doesn't dare to taste them.

'Where is that voice?' That's the only question he needs an answer to.

While walking, his legs - his left leg even more so - bump to what sounds like a wooden box and that makes him look down. His toes hurt. He bites his tongue to cope with the sting of pain.
He takes a better look. Yes. It is indeed a wooden box that has been opened. There is a delicate sapphire blue crown inside it. Curious. Very curious.

He recognizes the dark magic omitting out of the diadem almost instantly. This feels... it feels like Riddle's diary, if he were to be honest with himself. But how? It is possible that Riddle made more than one? Dumbledore had said... he said he suspected. Merely suspected. It couldn't be.

Right?

And if the object was Dark then why it was drawing him in like the basilisk's voice had through the walls? Why was he always so easily swayed by the forbidden and dangerous?

'Why don't you touch it, just a little? See what happens?' A traitorous little voice in his brain whispers to him.

Harry kneels down and takes the box in his hands. He raises his left hand to touch the diadem, to find the answers he's been looking for-

But no. He mustn't. Dark magic was always alluring. That didn't mean he would give in so easily.

'You will never go anywhere if you allow your fears to rule over you' Says the same voice which Harry tries to make go away for it seems to be on the right - even if he does not wish to admit it.

'This is nonsense.' Thinks the boy annoyed with himself. 'I should be back in my own bed sleeping. Not here in the cold looking for antiques of crowns.'

And yet...

The whispers grow. And he is certain that they're coming from the diadem -
Ravenclaw's diadem, just now he has noticed the engravings on it.

He snorts. 'Of course Riddle would temper with an ancient artifact. He must have wanted the complete collection of the founders' most precious possessions for himself. Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup. I bet he has defiled them with Dark magic. All except the sword of Gryffindor, which is why I could use it back in the Chamber.'

Common sense says he should leave the box and the diadem alone. Put them back on one of the many tables of the room now that he knows of their true nature - but Harry's curiosity and thirst for approval by the adults around him has always been (and will always be) his demise. He just has to ensure the other students' safety, otherwise he cannot find peace with himself. (He never ever does.)
So he touches it. His hand burns along with his scar. He lets the box drop down the floor. The crown hits cold marble and it lays there quite innocently. There is no shine, no bright light. Harry is not harmed beyond that initial burn.