When Myths Meet Magic || 2

20|| Jason

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago—" Percy Weasley bustled down the hall, trying to disperse the amount of students that had crowded around. "And you, Malfoy—"

Jason looked back at Malfoy, who had stopped to snatch up an odd looking book. With a start, Jason realized it was a diary.

"What's this?" Malfoy sneered. "What's Potter's written in this?"

"Give it back, Malfoy," Piper said quietly, but her voice rang melodiously through the halls. Jason had the sudden urge to drop on his knees and offer up his book bag as a sacrifice to her.

Charmspeak, he realized.

Malfoy glanced at her before thrusting the book back to Harry, who was looking at Piper, bewildered. Jason snorted angrily, thinking back on his doubts about Piper's intentions.

"Alright! Get to class!" Percy Weasley sharply pushed them in the direction of Charms, shooting Malfoy a glare. Malfoy sneered as the first years finally dispersed from the hallway, shouting after Ginny Weasley: "I don't think Potter liked your valentine, much!"

"C'mon, let's go." Jason stooped to help Harry pick up the rest of his things before bustling into the Charms room. He looked in Harry's hands at the diary again, the lettering engraved into the cover. Then he noticed the scarlet ink dripping onto his own hands from the ink bottles smashing over them, and glanced back at the diary. It was completely dry.

"Hey, Harry?" Nico noticed it too. "Your... uh... diary—"

Harry glanced down at the book in his hands. "It's not my diary," he said defensively.

"Okay, fine. The diary isn't wet. Wasn't it in your bag when the ink spilled?"

Harry looked down oddly at the diary. "You're right," he said as they entered Professor Flitwick's classroom. "I wonder why."

>>>•Nico POV•<<<

Harry was acting oddly before he went to bed, unnaturally early, still gripping the diary in one hand. Nico hesitated, before following him up to the boy's dormitories, keeping in  the shadows. The voices of Fred and George faded, starting another round of His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad.

There was a creak as Harry flopped on his four-poster, flipping through the pages of his diary. Nico slipped behind the curtains, unsure of why he was being so secretive.

Harry dipped his quill in some ink before dotting it on the paper in a little frowny-face. Nico watched in rapt attention, sure something would happen. And something did. The ink soaked straight through the paper, leaving no trace of it whatsoever.

Harry gasped at the same time as Nico, which was lucky. Harry dipped his quill into ink again, scribbling some words in the scarlet ink. They too, disappeared, before Nico could read them. Not that he could anyways, he was reading upside-down in Harry's handwriting, with dyslexia. He didn't even try to read it.

Then something happened again.

Words rose out of the page again, shining in the same scarlet ink as all the Gryffindor's. A more tidy scrawl this time, like Jason's writing. Except it wasn't Jason's hand.

Harry leaned forward again, scribbling something down. Again, the words sunk down, and again, more rose. They seemed to be having a conversation, whoever was on the other side of the book. Another sentence came and went, then an entire paragraph rose to the pages. Harry jammed the quill into the ink bottle, nearly tipping it over. Back and forth, they conversed, until Harry hesitated, his quill hovering above the page. Then scratched down two simple letters, even Nico could read them.