Lit By: KociKich

Lit

Tom Riddle asked him a simple question: how did the journal hit him? Harry was about to answer as uncomplicated: someone tried to drain him in the toilet. In an alternative universe, this answer would entail a chain of events that would lead to the destruction of the diary and the indwelling being. Any chance of redemption would disappear forever. At the end of this adventure only death would be waiting for them.

However, in this reality, Harry thought about his answer a little longer and wrote something completely different as soon as he realized that his first thought did not fully explain how he had acquired the diary.

This seemingly innocent correction, resulting from just an extra two seconds of thought, jerked, bent and broke destiny, creating a new reality glued together from the shattered pieces of her original.

- I found him on the floor in the ladies' room.

By this sentence fate screamed in pain, torn, while Harry eagerly awaited the reply of Tom Riddle, unaware of the huge change he had caused.

- It's quite surprising. The previous owner had to leave him there.

- Previous owner? Harry replied hastily, almost smearing the fresh ink.

- Yes, the journal was also a student before, but that does not matter now. I do not think he would feel his loss if he was so reckless as to leave him in the toilet.

Harry agreed with Tom - the previous owner even tried to drain him in the toilet. Maybe someone finally realized that the diary had its own consciousness and was terrified of it. Maybe it was something wrong with the journal , as Ron suggested, but Harry did not think so. Besides that he could answer himself, he did not seem too harmful.

- What are you? He asked, scribbling a little, he could not stop his curiosity.

- A log, of course.

Even in writing, Harry managed to recognize the sourness in these words and realized that it was a somewhat stupid question on his part. Nevertheless, he was a little disappointed with this answer.

- So you're just a magical being, not a person?

- I am part of a living person, but I was created thanks to magic.

This sentence confused him a bit, but when he dipped the tip of the pen into the inkwell to write another question, Riddle slightly brightened the confused answer.

- More precisely, I am the memory preserved in this journal.

It made a little more sense, though it still seemed impossible to achieve with magic.

- Since you're the memory of the real Tom Riddle, how was this journal found here?

It seemed a little strange to him that the real Tom Riddle might lose something so important. If Harry created such an object and hid his younger self within him, he would make sure that the diary was in a safe place.

After this question, a long moment passed before the answer appeared on the page.

- I do not know. The diary was created fifty years ago. I have not talked to anyone since.

Harry did not even try to imagine how horrible it must have been. Even if Riddle is just a memory, not to talk to anyone for half a century was still a terrifying fate.

- You must have been very bored.

When Riddle replied, Harry was sure that he could sense a slight amusement in his words.