The orphanage was almost refreshing in its consistency. Her room was the exact same since she left it, the same stripped bed and creaky floorboards. Eliza didn't bother unpacking most of her things, simply stashed a few sets of muggle clothes in her wardrobe and set the diary onto her rickety desk. She wouldn't leave her most prized possessions out in her room that didn't even have a lock on the door.
The matron hadn't even given her an hour to settle in before she was called down to help in the kitchen. Apparently she had no excuse to not do chores in the summer because she got to 'slack off in a boarding school for nine months of the year'
Eliza wondered how the matron would react if she told her at the end of her first year she had literally felt a man's face burn away beneath her own hands. But she knew that would land her with a lot worse than bible study so she kept her mouth shut and peeled potatoes and ignored how some part of her desperately wished to stab the knife through the matron's throat instead.
It wasn't until much later that night she was finally allowed to return to her room and speak with Riddle.
I have to assume our plan was a success then Riddle writes back when she greets him. Eliza did feel a bit guilty about leaving Riddle in the dark for so long, leaving him wondering if they had been successful but then she remembered how the boy had been willing to feed her to a basilisk and stifled her nagging guilt.
Back at home sweet home.
I can't understand why you spend your summers here instead of at one of your friend's homes. What's the point in them if you don't benefit.
You're a sociopath.
High functioning one, darling. Eliza had to muffle a snort at that
I plan to spend the last few weeks in Diagon, that is of course if you're no longer a thorn in my side Eliza wrote back.
Well that depends on how quickly you can get me a soul Little Star.
No, no, no that depends on if you have a trust worthy plan first.
All in due time Riddle writes back but he doesn't speak again for the rest of the night.
The days drag on, Eliza completed all her homework. Billy Motley tried to push her down the stairs and so Eliza broke his arm in return. No one knows it was her, no-one has proof but they all avoid her for the next few days.
You would think they'd remember to not pick a fight with me but here we are.
Just kill one of their pets Riddle writes back to her I find that's quite effective. The sadistic amusement coming off the diary makes her shake her head in exasperation.
I'm not killing an innocent pet Riddle, unlike some I'm not actually deranged.
Then just kill the boy instead.
No. Aside from reminiscing about pet homicide have you come any further in your plan?
But I do so love reminiscing over the past Eliza, have you ever been to the beach?
One week faded into two, two into three and Eliza was ready to crawl out of her own skin. She despised returning to the muggle world, despised being kicked out of her home every summer and she ached to be able to use her wand again instead of being stuck in this hell-hole.
The matron hadn't appreciated her cussing and she had been made to spend another hour in the corner, arms out with heavy bibles place on top of them. The humiliation burned her more than the pain did.
Devil child might be my least favourite moniker.
Stop getting into fights with the matron Eliza, we both know it never ends well.
Do you really have any room to talk Riddle? You murdered a rabbit.
I don't know why you fixate on the rabbit Little Star, I assure you I've done a lot worse.
Not the point.
If you say so.
I do, I do say so. Don't pretend I've not noticed you dodging the question.
Yes well in the 1930's people were a lot less lax with child welfare
Riddle doesn't say anything for a while and Eliza spends that time softly working out the kinks in her arms until finally, he responds
I was exorcized once.
What
I don't recommend it Riddle wrote back in a blasé tone but Eliza knew better.
I'm sorry
The diary went silent again. Riddle never seemed to know how to act around actual earnest expressions of emotion, at least when he was also expected to be truthful. It just made Eliza feel worse, at least she had found her court. Friends she knew she could rely on. She didn't think Riddle had ever had anything more than followers and sycophants. It must be a lonely existence.
I've decided on the journalist I wish to contact by the way Eliza said offering a way out of their stifling conversation.
Scheming again Little Star?
When am I not.
Eliza? Riddle wrote one day, it's almost her birthday now and the orphanage has been a bit more bearable this year since she had Riddle with her.
What do you want? Eliza asked because he only ever really called her by her real name when he wants something.
I have a plan but I thought it would perhaps be best to explain it to you face to face.
You little leech! Eliza scrawled across the page, you want to take some of my magic?
Well it's not like your using it right now Riddle writes back sullenly.
Eliza's hesitant to give up some of her magic, they can't kill each other but they sure as hell can harm each other and the thought of someone using her magic makes her feel uncomfortable. But Riddle is probably right, their conversations would be a lot easier if they could talk face to face instead of maintaining their pen pal façade.
Reluctantly Eliza slowly pooled some of her magic into her hands, delicately pressing it into the diary. Riddle's magic met hers and Eliza cringed at the uncomfortable feeling of her magic being syphoned away. Eliza had no warning, Riddle doesn't gradually fade into existence. One moment there isn't anyone in the room but Eliza and then Riddle is sat on top of her desk.
He looked the same as he did in the chamber, if not a bit paler. He's not fully seated into reality, his edges flickered oddly and he almost glitches if he moves too quickly but it's enough. A slow pleased smile spreads across his face as he flexed his fingers, almost as if he's playing arpeggios on an unseen piano.
"Much obliged Little Star" he said and Eliza almost immediately regretted her decision when she heard that smooth silky tone.
"I can't get you a soul if I don't know your plan so start talking Riddle" Eliza demanded and sat on the edge of her creaky bed to put some distance between the pair of them.
"Always so straight to the point aren't you Eliza" he poured and then chuckled at her dead panned stare.
"For you to know my plan we're going to have to have a bit of a lesson first" Riddle said fingers absently tapping against the desk and even though they didn't make any noise Eliza felt drawn to the movement.
"In my second year World War two began, the blitz shortly after that. Most children were evacuated to the countryside but I of course was in Hogwarts. By the time I returned to London no one was willing to take in extra children, least of all an orphan brat and I went through my first summer in the middle of the blitz" Riddle said in a detached tone.
"The summer of my third year a bomb was dropped three houses down from the orphanage. I had no wand, no money, and no food. All I saw were bodies in the streets and crumbling buildings and soon my greatest fear became a very real possibility" he spoke staring out of the window as if he were seeing a very different set of London streets.
"That Tom Riddle would die alone and nameless and no one would even know I had ever existed. I had no material possessions, I had my wand and my wits and I was terrified that that wouldn't be enough"
The open vulnerability in his voice made Eliza's breath catch in her throat, his words resonating deep within her.
"And so I developed a near obsession with making sure I would never die, not like my filthy near squib of a mother. I knew I was destined for greatness and I was determined to find a path towards immortality"
Eliza was getting a bad feeling about this.
"I dedicated myself to research, there was unicorn blood if you were to damn yourself to a cursed life, artefacts such as the philosophers stone, long forgotten ancient Egyptian magic but none were what I was looking for. By the end of my fifth year I'd even charmed myself into Lucretia Black's bed just to access the Black family library"
"It was there I found what I was looking for, elegant in their simplicity, horcruxes"
"Is this the point in the lesson where I ask you what a horcrux is Professor Riddle?"
Riddle shot her a crooked grin then, alleviating some of the tension in the room before he continued on.
"I found the information in Secrets of the Darkest Arts, no other book had such extensive information and I believed this one to be perhaps the only one in existence that detailed the creation of a horcrux"
Probably sensing Eliza's impatience Riddle then began actually explaining.
"The first and only ever known horcrux was created in ancient Greece by Herpo the Foul. He believed that if he could make a container for his soul he would never actually die. The Greeks believed the soul was a part of an immortal process, but if not all the soul was destroyed then you would not 'pass on' to the afterlife" Riddle explained and if Eliza wasn't too busy feeling sick to her stomach she would have commended him on being a good teacher.
"As it were you couldn't just split your soul randomly, the soul is a whole metaphysical concept much like our magic is and it takes a truly horrendous act to create a tear so you could place it in a different object"
"Myrtle Warren" Eliza breathed as she pulled everything together. Riddle inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"I was going to wait. The more significant the murder the more you could split your soul but summer was approaching and poor Myrtle was already dead and so I made my first horcrux at 16, me" Riddle finished and the silence in the room was almost stifling.
"How could you be such an idiot?" Eliza said finally breaking the silence. Riddle looked so offended it was almost laughable but Eliza continued anyway.
"No one knows what the soul is, how can one even comprehend splitting it? Would it split your personality? The ancient Greeks also believed the soul held humans natural capacity to reason so would you also be diminishing that? Who knows what affect it would have on a person-?
"I think we both now know what effect it can have on a person" Riddle interjected bitterly "Herpo the Foul never went insane. I assumed I would be okay but my arrogance, my excess of paranoia was doomed to be my downfall"
Eliza stared at him for a while completely puzzled until-
"Wait you said you made your first horcrux at 16. Don't tell me you made more?" Eliza questioned in disbelief. At least Riddle was self aware enough to look ashamed.
"I intended to split my soul into seven parts which I believe, if my counterpart went through with it, is what led him to his current insanity. As you said Little Star, no one knows what the soul is and I was incredibly foolish damaging mine so"
Eliza knew she could continue to chastise him, knew he would probably sit there and let her but she also knew he would probably never let himself forget the mistakes he had made. Knew he would carry them with him like she carried her grudges with her.
"So what are you going to do now Riddle?" Eliza asked and watched as his head snapped up to regard her curiously.
"I will collect whatever soul you deign to give me, a muggle one will suffice. I just need to be corporeal as of now more than anything" Eliza nodded in agreement already wracking her brain over what sacrifice she would choose.
"I'll collect the pieces of my soul, I know most if not all of the objects I was planning to use and I am confident to say I know myself better than anyone" he joked softly and Eliza smiled back.
"From what you've told me I'm now the most dominant soul, or will be once I become corporeal. I can then dispatch of the husk that is Voldemort and return to my original plans" Riddle said. Eliza can tell he's not telling her something but she's honestly surprised he's been this forthright anyway so she decides not to push her luck.
"I'm glad you've got a second chance Tom" Eliza said, the vulnerability of her words making her wish she'd never said them. He studied her like he's never seen her before and Eliza has to supress the urge to shuffle underneath his stare. Eliza wouldn't allow him to make her feel nervous. He was dangerous, but so was she.
"As am I Little Star but make no mistake, I am not some misguided fairy-tale hero. Voldemort and I are and always will be the same person, we are one across time and across souls. I turned to war because it was easier, I turned insane because of my own mistakes. But now I have learnt, I'm ready to begin again"
Here Tom quirks his lips and slides off the top of the desk.
"And that old fool never counted on me having someone like you by my side"
Tom disappeared back into the diary leaving Eliza gawping at nothing but air. A beat later his elegant handwriting appears on the page.
I expect my payment soon Darling
Insufferable git.
~
Eliza refused to commit a murder on her birthday on the sheer principle of it. Instead she had curled up in her room with her few new books (a surprising choice of gift) and talks about her readings with Tom who's interested to see how magic theory has shifted over the decades.
Theo and Blaise had both given her books and Draco had given her a pair of dragon hide leather boots that Eliza fell in love with immediately. Daphne had given her a hand-made book, the delicate binding holding it together. It was a book on cosmetic charms, on hair styles and make-up and glamour's. Family traditions that had been passed down from mother to daughter for centuries. There were even certain charms that were from the Potter family, designed to tame the typical curly mass of their hair and Eliza felt oddly touched.
Eliza had never had a family but quickly Daphne was becoming the sister she never had.
But she could tell Tom was growing restless so packing up the diary into her messenger bag alongside her shrunken down Eliza set out from the orphanage early the next morning. She doubted any muggle was going to willingly write to a talking diary which meant she would have to find a secluded spot so she could coerce them into cooperating. She would also have to choose someone no one would likely miss, murder investigations were best to be avoided after all.
Thankfully London had a high population of homeless people who fulfilled both of those requirements.
Turning into a ginnel roughly 30 minutes from the orphanage Eliza pulled her pen-knife out of her bag and carried on walking.
Killing muggles is surprisingly easy work. Eliza had found one further into the ginnel, discarded cans of beers scattered around him. It was easy enough to get him to write in the diary, Eliza had simply held the pen knife to his throat and softly coaxed her magic into his mind. Muggles were quite easy to manipulate and soon the man was writing into the diary, shaking with every word, watery blue eyes staring at her in fear as his life was slowly drained out of him.
Turning paler and paler eventually the man slumped over dead in the alley. Eliza didn't even bat an eye more focused on the steadily pulsing Diary until, soon, it wasn't just the diary there at all.
Ink and parchment twisted into blood and bone until finally Tom Riddle stood in front of her, solid and real in a way she had never seen before.
Eliza watched curiously as he stretched languidly reminding her of a cat. He paced around the alley probably growing accustomed to having his own body again and Eliza watched in quiet fascination.
"Thank you Little Star" he said earnestly shooting her a wide near manic grin. His brown eyes alight with happiness as the early morning sun hit his face dousing his cheekbones in the faint orange glow. She smiled back at him, caught up in his excitement.
Eliza felt her heart thrumming in her chest, a nervous energy pulsing at her veins as they walked out of the alley side by side she thinks to herself that finally she fees truly alive.
~
They walk to the leaky cauldron in silence. Riddle walked next to her like he had never seen the world before and Eliza enjoyed watching him watch the world around him. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes whenever the sun washed over him, stopped curiously near florist's stands and old bookstores. His hands were constantly twitching by his sides as if he was stopping himself from grabbing whatever caught his interest. It would almost feel like sacrilege to interrupt the peaceful early morning silence they walk in so Eliza doesn't.
They just keep walking.
When they arrive at the leaky cauldron she booked them both a room and Riddle ruffled her hair before he ran off to acquire a wand. Eliza unpacked her trunk from her bag, and rummaged around for her new books whilst she waited for Riddle's return. It doesn't take long however for her to fall back asleep, slumped over a tome on blood magiks, wand loosely held in hand.
When she wakes again Riddle's still nowhere in sight but now an owl sat perched on the desk, a cage next to it. It's a beautiful snowy white and beneath the cage is a small slip of paper
'Stay in touch little star'
Riddle doesn't do goodbyes like a normal person so it seems. It's the closest to a goodbye she thinks he's capable of and she smiled softly at the thought that he wanted to still be friends, even when they can now go their separate ways.
"Good luck Tom Riddle" she murmured into the emptiness of her room. The owl hooted softly as if in agreement with her words.
Eliza thinks she will actually miss him.
~
The days after Tom leaves are lonely but her solitude doesn't last for long.
She had never expected she'd be visited by the minister of magic but Eliza wouldn't be a real Slytherin if she didn't know how to turn every situation to her advantage.
The minster sat across from her, twittering on about something or another as he poured them both a cup of tea. Eliza knew that Fudge was a fool, weak and a coward. Three traits in people she usually despised but at least in Fudge she could work them to her advantage.
"And you had us all in a right flap Miss Potter when you suddenly went missing, what with Sirius Black on the loose"
"Sirius Black sir?" Eliza asked putting two extra sugars into her tea. None of her friends had mentioned anything about a Sirius Black. All she had gotten from them were letters complaining about how she wouldn't let them see her over summer.
"You mean you don't know" he spluttered over his tea cup. Eliza shook her head slowly in response.
"I live in a muggle orphanage over the summer sir. I'm a bit cut off from the wizarding world, it's why I come here in the last few weeks of August" she explained doing her best to look down-trodden. It annoyed her when she had to act pitiful but if pity was the price for information then she'll gladly pay it.
Fudge looked distinctly uncomfortable at that. No one liked being reminded about how the wizarding world's saviour had been shunted into a muggle orphanage for years.
"Well" he blustered trying to recover, taking a hasty sip of his tea "Sirius Black has just escaped Azkaban, first ever to do so, and as he was a big supporter of you-know-who we're afraid, I mean that is to say he might, come after you" Fudge explained under Eliza's level stare.
Fantastic, she gets one homicidal lunatic off her back and then suddenly another arrives to take his place.
"And so we thought it was best to check on you after we'd received word that you'd ran away"
"Well as you can see minister I'm perfectly fine here on my own" Eliza said with a winning smile and ignored the blatant implication that she had been placed under observation "and I'll be sure to tell all my friends about the lengths you've gone too to look after me" she said and just too lay it on even more thickly she added on "I'm sure the nation can rest easily knowing we have such a minister leading us"
Fudge smiled at her blindingly and when he went to leave he shuffled out of her room with a bounce in his step.
Who would have thought it? Draco was right. The minster really was easier to play than a fiddle.
~
Its three weeks before the book lists are due to be sent out when Eliza finally made her move. This morning's Daily Prophet's front page is splashed with Rita Skeeter's newest article 'Hogwarts; fact or fiction?' the headline reads and Eliza happily opened up the prophet to read the article as she sipped on her morning coffee.
My dearest Readers, you know I always aspire to give you the real truth of the world like you deserve and I am ashamed to admit that I, alongside my fellow public, had allowed one story to escape my grasp. Until now.
Three weeks ago I received a letter off an anonymous student attending Hogwarts. Their worry alarmed me and I instantly started to work on the case, as is my duty as a journalist and what I found my readers was shocking.
Many of us reading this paper will have attended the prestigious Hogwarts, many of us will have fond memories of its hallowed halls but I'm afraid that dark truths have been hidden in Hogwarts' large shadow. Hogwarts, under the care of Albus Dumbledore is said to be one of the best magical schools in the world. But what I have found contradicts everything we have been told.
Over the years many subjects have been removed from the Hogwarts curriculum, common knowledge to any of us who have read Hogwarts; a history however this travesty runs deeper. It wasn't until Hogwarts fell under the care of Albus Dumbledore did our children's education fall into a state of disrepair. Classes on healing, alchemy, magical theory, advanced arithmancy and runic studies have all been removed from the curriculum for reasons that cited 'dark magic'. Tell me dear readers, where is the darkness in healing? Where lies the problematic content in these valuable subjects that led them to be banned at Hogwarts.
Not only do we pale in comparison to our foreign friends Durmstang and Beauxbatons in this regard I also did some more digging into the success rates of our students. We have the lowest pass rate in the world when it comes to history of magic thanks to Dumbledore's sub-par staffing.
Will we let our education system fall into a state of disrepair? Will we allow Albus Dumbledore to make a mockery of Hogwarts, the staple of the British Wizarding World? The younger generation depends on us, dear readers, to fight for them. To fight for the education they deserve.
This has been Rita Skeeter. I can only deliver the truth to you, it is up to you my readers what you do with it.
Eliza grinned to herself as she finished reading the paper. Making copies of the clipping she attached a simple note to each of them that simply says 'Rita Skeeter was a fabulous choice on my part don't you think' and sends her mail off with Hedwig, her new owl.
Her court would probably want to kill her when they found out she's done another thing behind their backs but Eliza simply added it to the list of things she'll have to tell them about when they get back to Hogwarts. She'll tell them all about her shares in the daily prophet right after she lets them all know she spent her summer ressurecting the Dark Lord. She was sure that would go down well.
A few weeks after the article came out the booklists were sent out to all students. Eliza was ecstatic to see that magical theory and alchemy were now optional classes for third year students and up.
She had told Tom she would beat his OWL scores, she never shies away from a bet.