My partner at Hogwarts is Tom

Chapter 94 Tom and the Diary

Myrtle floated in mid-air, her head tilted to one side.

Behind the thick lenses of her glasses, her large eyes blinked curiously as she stared at Lockhart, who was bound tightly and unconscious on the ground, and asked in a high-pitched voice that was a mixture of infatuation and confusion.

"Oh! It's Professor Lockhart! What's wrong with him? He looks—uh, not quite right? Does he need help? His hair isn't usually this curly—"

Victor, who was half-crouched beside Lockhart, didn't even look up when he heard this. He continued to use the soft light emitted from the tip of his wand to check Lockhart's physical condition, while giving a concise answer.

"He's been affected by a dangerous dark magic artifact. This thing is troublesome, Myrtle, it's better for you to stay away."

"Dark magic items?"

Myrtle pursed her lips, clearly not satisfied with the explanation, or perhaps simply because of Viktor's indifferent tone and lack of attention towards her.

She floated closer, trying to get a better look at Lockhart's face.

"But Professor Lockhart is so handsome and famous, how could he—"

"Myrtle," Victor's voice remained steady, but carried an undeniable air of authority, "Go aside. Now."

Mommy was taken aback by the tone, and her expression, which had been one of curiosity and worry, immediately turned into annoyance at being offended.

She made an exaggerated face at the back of Victor's head and stuck out her tongue.

Then he shouted in a dramatic, tearful tone.

"Fine! Fine! You all find me annoying! Nobody needs a pitiful, crying Myrtle!"

After saying that, she suddenly turned around and, with an invisible current, whizzed through the nearest cubicle door.

Then—a faint, echoing splash was heard.

She plunged directly into the toilet bowl in that stall and disappeared completely.

Only a few invisible ripples, gradually subsiding, remain—ripples that only a ghost could stir up.

And the faint sadness and a little bit of moisture that once again permeated the bathroom.

Viktor didn't react at all, and didn't even glance in that direction.

His entire attention was focused on Lockhart, and on his own armor, which had just been protected by the Oblivion Curse and was now shimmering with a faint glow, its edges cracked like a fine spiderweb.

He could clearly feel that the connection between himself and the protective spell was rapidly weakening and becoming extremely unstable, as if it would be completely severed and dissipated at any moment.

Lockhart's Oblivion Charm seems to contain some very special "erosion" or "interference" property that targets the magical structure itself.

It does more than just try to erase memories; its magical fluctuations seem to penetrate, interfere with, and even "forget" the stability of other spells and the spellcaster's connection with them.

Victor had no doubt that if that spell had hit him directly, it would have affected his other ongoing magic, and even some of his combat instincts.

Of course, having prepared in advance, he had no chance of being hit.

"A masterful application of memory magic—or rather, a distortion and deepening of the forgetting spell to an appalling degree."

Victor calmly assessed the situation in his mind while withdrawing the magic he used to examine Lockhart.

Compared to Ginny's situation, where her memories were subtly altered and her life force was drained, Lockhart's case was indeed different.

There were no obvious signs that his life force or magic had been drained, and his physical condition was fine except for being unconscious.

However, the lingering fluctuations in his mental state indicate that he was strongly guided and suggested by emotions.

Ambition is amplified, vanity is exploited to the extreme, and judgment is impaired.

He developed an almost obsessive focus and impulse on "discovering the secret room and becoming a hero".

The diary, or rather the Tom Riddle within it, clearly employs different manipulation strategies based on the characteristics of different "hosts".

For a lonely first-grade girl, it is about patient companionship and subtle, gradual control.

For this vain "adventurer" who craves greater fame, the solution is to cater to his desires, amplify his ambitions, and lead him toward a dangerous "discovery."

However, Victor felt that Lockhart was affected quite severely.

"How ironic that someone so adept at forgetting was almost harmed by another form of 'forgetting'."

Without further hesitation, Victor waved his wand, and several strands of light from reinforcement and binding charms entered the ropes Tom had previously tied, making the sailor knots even stronger and adding anti-interference magic.

Then, he picked up Lockhart's hawthorn wand, which was inlaid with magnificent gems, quickly cast several sealing spells to isolate its magical fluctuations, and then put it into the inner pocket of his robe.

After doing all this, he stood up and glanced at the dragon skin bag that Tom had placed aside and handled with fire tongs.

The diary was quiet inside, but even through several layers of protection, that chilly, uncomfortable feeling still lingered like background radiation.

Victor raised his wand and pointed it into the air.

"Protect the Gods."

A burst of silvery-white light erupted once more, and the unique guardian spirit enveloped in a dense silver mist quickly took shape.

Victor whispered quickly into it, conveying the message: find the diary, subdue Lockhart, and return to the office immediately.

The silver-white guardian nodded, then transformed into a streak of light, passing through the wall and heading straight for the area where the principal's office and Professor McGonagall might be located.

Immediately afterwards, Victor cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself, Tom, the unconscious Lockhart, and the dragon-skin pouch simultaneously.

Their figures and colors rippled and blurred like water, quickly blending into the damp and mottled environment around them, becoming almost imperceptible.

"Let's go," Victor whispered, using a levitation charm to levitate Lockhart smoothly, while Tom jumped back onto his shoulder in perfect unison.

The man and the cat, along with an invisible, floating captive and an invisible dangerous object, quietly left the abandoned second-floor bathroom and quickly returned to the Magical Creatures Protection Department office on the second floor via a secluded corridor.

The illusion spell wore off just as they arrived at the office door.

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were already waiting outside the door, both with unusually serious expressions, clearly having received the Patronus' message.

Upon seeing Victor, and Lockhart, who was floating behind him, bound tightly and still unconscious, Professor McGonagall's lips tightened, and her eyes sharpened like knives.

Dumbledore quickly glanced around, his blue eyes behind his crescent-shaped spectacles lingering for a moment on the dragon-skin pouches in Lockhart and Victor's hands.

"Let's go inside," Victor said succinctly, tapping his wand lightly as the office door slid open silently.

The four, along with the floating Lockhart and the jumping Tom, quickly entered, the door closing behind them to isolate them from the outside world.

The office was warm and quiet, a stark contrast to the cold and damp washroom we had just left.

But the atmosphere became even more tense.

Professor McGonagall barely waited for the door to close completely before turning to Victor, her voice low but urgent.

"Victor, you really got it? That—diary?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." Victor nodded firmly and carefully placed the heavily protected dragon-skin pouch in the center of his desk.

"It's inside. Also," he gestured to Lockhart, who was floating beside him.

"Gidero Lockhart attempted to attack me with the Oblivion Charm while I was examining what appeared to be the entrance to the secret chamber. The diary was on him at the time."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall immediately shifted their gaze from Lockhart and fixed it firmly on the seemingly ordinary dragon-skin pouch.

While it was surprising that Lockhart found the diary, at this moment, the diary was the key.

Dumbledore walked slowly to the table, and instead of touching the bag with his bare hands, he very cautiously and gently tapped the sides of the bag's opening with the tip of his Elder Wand.

Subtle magical ripples spread out, as if he were sensing and analyzing the defenses set up by Victor.

Then, he carefully used his wand to loosen the drawstring at the top of the bag, allowing it to open.

Inside, the old, unadorned diary with its black cover lay quietly.

In the brighter, "cleaner" magical environment of the office, it looks even less noticeable.

But the faint, gloomy feeling that emanated from it, so out of place with the life and light around it, became even more clearly discernible.

At least for wizards like Dumbledore and Victor.

Dumbledore stared intently at the diary, his gaze deep.

A moment later, he seemed to suddenly become interested and actually dipped his wand into the air.

Then he pulled out a long, shimmering, golden-red quill pen from his pocket.

Then, carefully using the phoenix-feather pen, he wrote on the blank title page of the diary in his unique, cursive script, with circles nested within circles:

Hello there.

The handwriting is elegant and fluent, carrying Dumbledore's unique style.

However, the diary did not respond.

The ink slowly seeped into the paper, and then—it just seeped in, as if absorbed by ordinary paper, without disappearing or any new writing appearing.

Dumbledore raised his white eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced, and wrote another line:

Tom?

It still disappeared without a trace.

The diary was as quiet as a real, just a slightly old, ordinary notebook.

Seeing Dumbledore's somewhat childish probing gesture, Victor couldn't help but cough softly, a slightly embarrassed look on his face.

"Headmaster," he gently suggested, "is there a possibility—Voldemort—he recognizes your handwriting?"

Dumbledore's hand, which was writing, paused.

He maintained a slightly bent-over posture, turned his head, and looked at Viktor with his blue eyes behind his crescent-shaped glasses. He blinked, and a look of realization mixed with a touch of embarrassment slowly appeared on his face.

"Oh!" He straightened up, took the phoenix feather pen in his hand and twirled it, then touched the tip of his long, hooked nose with a hint of self-mockery.

"Well, that was my oversight. I thought—after fifty years, maybe I could have a chat with Tom again and see if he had any new ideas."

There was even a hint of regret in his tone, as if he had missed an interesting tea party.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the office, Lockhart, who had been crouching unconscious, was...

Tom, who was carefully playing with the glittering medal on the other's forget-me-not blue robe with his paws, his eyes full of admiration, suddenly twitched his ears.

It heard Dumbledore's words, especially the name "Tom".

With a "whoosh," it abandoned its study of Lockhart's fine clothes and darted like a gray-blue lightning bolt to the desk at Dumbledore's feet.

It tilted its head back, its big, round, bright green eyes staring unblinkingly at Dumbledore, its ears standing straight up, and the tip of its tail tapping the table lightly and impatiently.

Dumbledore looked down at Tom, who had suddenly appeared in front of him with a curious expression, and immediately realized that he might have "offended" the office steward.

He gave an apologetic smile and spoke gently.

"Oh, sorry, Tom, I wasn't calling you. I was talking about 'him'—Tom Riddle."

As he spoke, he pointed with the tip of his phoenix-tail pen to the black diary in the dragon-skin bag on the table.

Tom looked at the diary in the direction of the pen tip, his big eyes filled with even deeper confusion.

It glanced at the diary, then at Dumbledore.

Suddenly, as if it remembered something, it raised a paw and pointed to the diary.

Then it raised its two paws and made a circular crown shape on its furry head. Finally, it tapped its chest with the tips of its paws, its face showing a mixture of disgust and "I understand" expression.

The three wizards present instantly understood what Tom meant.

The guy in this notebook, just like the bad guy hiding in the crown before, is also named "Tom"!

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile as he watched Tom's vivid "performance".

He bent down, trying to soothe the office cat boss, who was clearly a little unhappy, in a coaxing tone.

"Yes, Tom, it's him again. But he's bad Tom, and you're brave, good Tom, the Tom who helped us a lot."

As he spoke, he magically pulled a small packet of colorful Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from his pocket and handed it to Tom.

"Here, take this. Consider it compensation for saying the wrong thing?"

However, Tom clearly wasn't buying it.

It is the recognized "Tom" of Hogwarts, a powerful character who can catch mice and tie up dark wizards. How can we tolerate another smelly and gloomy thing being called "Tom"?

Without even glancing at the tempting bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, it stretched out its paw and firmly pushed the bag away.

Then, it snatched the phoenix feather pen that Dumbledore was still holding and angrily turned to face the diary on the table.

It stood upright on its hind legs, its front paws gripping a quill pen that was a bit too long for it, its fur slightly bristling, its tail held high, baring its teeth at the black diary, and emitting a low, warning growl.

Then, in a manner quite different from its usual nimbleness—slightly clumsy but full of momentum—it forcefully pressed the pen tip onto the pages of the diary and began to "write furiously."

Ink splattered, the handwriting was crooked and uneven, filled with the difficulty of a cat's paws holding the pen and the raging anger, but the meaning was expressed with unparalleled clarity.

[I am Tom! You filthy thing! You are not allowed to use that name!]

After finishing writing, Tom still wasn't satisfied, so he used his paws to press several ink paw prints next to the writing, as if stamping his own personal seal.

It angrily put down its pen, put its hands on its hips, glared at the diary, and waited for a response, looking like it was saying, "If you dare to agree, I'll scratch your cover."

The office was completely silent.

Dumbledore stroked his beard with interest, Professor McGonagall opened her mouth slightly in surprise, and Victor looked at his angry Tom with a mixture of helplessness and amusement.

A few seconds later, under everyone's watchful eyes, the scraggly handwriting and claw marks Tom had left in the diary began to slowly disappear, as if absorbed by the paper.

Then, in the same spot, a new line of elegant, flowing dark green handwriting, identical to what Ginny and Dumbledore had seen before, appeared with an almost bewildered, slow rhythm.

【? 】

That lone question mark stood out starkly against the blank page of the diary, completely igniting Tom's fury.

In its view, this was not a response at all, but a blatant provocation! It was a contempt for its status as "Hogwarts' only Tom"!