ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

basilisk

"Harry is my friend, I'm my own hero," I snapped.

"Quiet, I'm focusing," he hissed.

"You'd better not hurt him," I stood shakily. Realizing my legs hurt too much to hold me, I sat back down in the chair. It had merely felt like a few hours in the diary, but I wondered what day it was outside of it.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Riddle said, still focused on replying. "I could only keep you in here because we share the same bloodline. Unfortunately, that leaves Potter out of my reach."

"You failed to kill him too, you know," I told him with a menacing grin. "And he was only an infant. You couldn't kill a baby!"

Riddle looked at me with the coldest fury, but I looked back at him defiantly despite the fear in my heart. He couldn't hurt me here — I was no longer afraid. Lord Voldemort or not, right now he was just a sixteen year old boy.

"Don't talk to me about being weak," he snapped. "You can't even stand up properly."

I tried to stand again to prove him wrong, but I was once again filled with immeasurable pain and sat back down. He scoffed at me, and continued his replying to Harry. I wondered what they were writing about.

"He's asking about you," he chuckled. "He seems very worried. Don't tell me the Boy Who Lived doesn't know about your bloodline."

"You mean the boy you failed to kill," I corrected. "And no, he doesn't. He's my friend, of course he would be worried."

"Oh, friends, relationships, so trivial," Riddle shook his head. "You should know that the only one you can trust is yourself."

"Like you would know what it's like to care about people," I retorted. He chuckled.

"I know how to pretend," he said. "How else do you think Ginny Weasley has done my dirty work for me?"

"What?" My mind reeled. That's why she looked so guilty all the time. That's why she wanted the diary. And that's why she ambushed me and cut open my hand. Oh God.

"Ah yes, she was so troubled," Riddle said, continuing to scribble. "I bored myself with her complaints and whining. 'Oh, Tom, I don't think Harry likes me;' 'Tom, you're my only friend right now;' 'Tom, why do I have feathers all over me?' 'Tom, why is there paint on my hands?' 'Tom I can't remember anything and now there's been another attack!'"

"You possessed her?" I hissed. "How dare you!"

"Once I gained her trust, she did what I told her to do," he grinned icily. "And now, the only threat to my plan is sitting right here with me."

"Harry has the diary," I said. "He wouldn't give it back to Ginny. He probably doesn't even know it's hers."

"She'll get it back eventually," Riddle said lazily. "But for now—"

Riddle placed a palm on the parchment. He and the parchment began to glow. I tried to say something, but he couldn't hear me. This lasted for a minute or so before the glowing finally stopped. Riddle looked up from the parchment, seeming pleased.

"What did you just do?" I asked, accusatory.

"Exactly what I did last time." Riddle smirked slowly. "I'm sure you know Rubeus Hagrid?"

"You did not," I growled. "Harry would never believe you! He of all people knows of Hagrid's kindness."

"But he saw my memories with his own eyes," Riddle explained gleefully. "Who do you think actually opened the Chamber fifty years ago? Me, of course. But dumb old Professor Dippet, the Headmaster, had no idea. Rubeus was the perfect scapegoat — he's always had a love for dangerous monsters. I caught him sneaking an Acromantula into the school and he was expelled for my work!"