Invisible String | TVD x WIZARDING WORLD

MY NAME IS TOM AND I'M REALLY GLAD TO MEET YOU

I stared.

Tom looked around. Checked the corners. Whispered a spell—and then a wall opened. A hidden compartment, almost like a mouth swallowing the book whole.

"And that's how you hide evil," I whispered. "I hide snacks. He hides dark magical objects."

"Stay focused."

"Let me cope."

But just as he closed the compartment, Tom froze. Like something had changed. And then—

He turned his head. Slowly.

And looked straight at us.

Harry gripped my arm. "He shouldn't be able to see us, right? This is a memory—just a memory—"

Tom started walking toward us.

"Okay. This feels very not memory-ish," I said, backing up. "What did you write in the diary again?! 'Hi, please trap me forever and also haunt me personally'?"

"Shut up!" Harry hissed.

Tom stopped inches away. Still young. Still handsome. Still horrifying.

"Curious people," he said softly. "You're not supposed to be here."

I didn't answer. Something was buzzing in my head. Like static. Like a warning.

"You're not just visitors," Tom continued. His gaze slid to me. "You're interesting. Especially you."

He reached out—not to Harry. To me.

"You're different. You don't belong to this time. Not entirely. But you could. If you wanted to. Stay. Learn from me. You'd be brilliant. Powerful. I could show you everything."

My heart was racing. Did a handsome version of Voldy baby just asked me to be his side-chick?

This was choice.

And for half a breath—I considered it.

Then I slapped his hand away.

"Bold pitch, Voldy," I said, voice shaking. "But I like my soul uncursed, thanks."

Tom tilted his head, disappointed. And just like that, the memory cracked. Shattered like glass dropped in a sink.

We were falling again.

Landing hard on the roots of big old dusty trees. Gasping. The diary lay between us, pages twitching as if alive—then still.

Harry sat up first. "What the hell was that?"

"I think," I said, heart still hammering, "Voldemort just tried to flirt with me."

"Voldemort...?" Harry echoed, his voice low, stunned.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I froze. My brain did that stupid little Windows error sound in real time. Bloop.

"Err, um, yeah?" I said, attempting a smile and immediately failing. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. Mismatch the letters. Bit of an anagram situation. You know. Evil but poetic."

Harry stared at me like I'd just told him Hagrid was secretly a mermaid.

"You're telling me... Tom is Voldemort? Tom—like, 'Hi, I'm prefect Tom Riddle, may I help you with your homework?' That guy?"

I winced. "He wasn't exactly leading the knitting club, Harry. He murdered a girl and framed a teenage Hagrid. That was, like, his villain origin episode."

"And you knew this? Plus, how do you know he framed Hagrid?"

"Define knew," I stalled, backing away slightly. "Because, like, I suspected—I mean, it's not like he wears a name tag that says 'Hi, I'm the Dark Lord in disguise'—"

"But you said it so casually!"

"I panicked! Call it instinct or whatever but I know Hagrid ain't the culprit."

Harry looked like he was going to faint. Or punch something. Possibly both.

"Why didn't anyone tell us this?" he said, half to himself. "Why didn't Dumbledore say anything?"

"Because he's Dumbledore and he never tells anyone anything useful until it's too late and someone's bleeding."

He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes wide. "So, all this time, this diary... it's not just dangerous. It's him. A piece of him."

I bit my lip. "Yeah. It's not just a diary. It's more like... Voldemort Lite™."

Harry groaned. "That's not funny."

"Nothing about this is funny!" I snapped, then immediately corrected, "Okay—maybe a little. But mostly horrifying."

He fell onto the ground like his legs gave out, staring blankly at the fire.

I sat beside him and nudged his knee with mine. "Hey. You okay?"

"No." He blinked. "I've been... talking to him. Writing to him. Asking him questions. He showed me stuff. I thought—I thought I was learning something good."

"You were." I paused. "Like how not to trust mysterious magical objects ever again."

Harry gave me a long, withering glare.

I grinned. "Too soon?"

"Way too soon."