He hadn't heard any explosion, nor were there signs of the lock being forced. And that rune-locked cabinet—the very one Dumbledore himself admitted would take time to unravel—how could it possibly have been opened silently in just a few minutes?
That Weasley had been under his watchful eye the entire time, from the moment he was caught to when he was marched into the office!
In the end, Fred was sentenced to detention on the grounds of "serious suspicion," which Filch, fuming with rage, imposed with extra severity.
But Filch himself had landed in an even bigger mess.
He now had to explain to Professor McGonagall, and perhaps even to Headmaster Dumbledore, how the most important item under his watch had mysteriously "vanished" right under his nose.
Meanwhile, Fred discovered that Filch's office, filled with confiscated dust-covered trinkets, was nothing short of a treasure trove during his detention.
To him, it was like a grand scavenger hunt.
When Filch turned his sour, wrinkled face toward the cupboard to brew his disgusting tea, the motion gave Fred the perfect chance. His eyes swept quickly over the rune cabinet—now stripped of all its magical protections—and locked onto an inconspicuous little notebook.
Its cover was badly worn, its corners curled, and placed among a pile of glittering contraband, it looked plain and unremarkable.
Fred's hand moved so fast it left only a blur.
He slipped the empty diary from the cabinet and slid it smoothly into the wide pocket of his robes. The entire maneuver was seamless, not a single sound out of place.
By the time he finally finished detention and dragged his tired body back to the Gryffindor common room, the fire in the hearth was down to its last faint embers.
Midnight had just struck.
Alan and George were seated by the fireplace, as though waiting for him.
The exhaustion on Fred's face vanished in an instant, replaced by irrepressible excitement. With a conspiratorial air, he pulled out his "trophy" and dropped it heavily on the little table between them.
"Look what I got!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it brimmed with smug pride.
It was a plain-looking diary. George picked it up and flipped through it.
The pages inside were completely blank—so blank it was disappointing. Not a word, not even a speck of ink.
"A useless old notebook?" George's shoulders slumped, his voice dripping with obvious letdown. He had half expected Fred to snatch up some wicked prank item instead.
"No. It's not ordinary."
Alan's calm voice cut in. He took the diary from George.
The moment it touched his hand, a strange sensation pricked his fingertips. This was no ordinary paper—it was cold, smooth, and tough like leather. A faint but incredibly complex magical energy seeped from its depths, flowing through Alan's senses.
Lee Jordan leaned closer, curiosity piqued. He uncorked an ink bottle, dipped a quill, and tried to scrawl his name on the blank page.
That's when the bizarre happened.
The black ink beaded instantly into droplets, then rolled off the page without leaving a trace. It was as though the paper itself rejected the ink, refusing to be marked.
"Let me." Alan spoke.
As his fingers touched the diary cover, his vast and intricate Mind Palace instantly parsed the object. Cold, objective streams of data unfolded in his consciousness.
[Item Analysis: Tom Riddle's Diary (Horcrux Prototype).]
[Enchantments Detected: Memory Imprint, Emotional Resonance, Primary Soul Absorption, Passive…]
Alan's heart clenched. A chill raced up his spine into the back of his skull.
A Horcrux.
The very word—an ultimate taboo in magical history—froze his blood.
But not a flicker of his emotion reached his face. He remained steady, scholarly, his expression calm. He knew exactly how dangerous this was, a gateway to madness and destruction.
And yet, he also knew: before it was fully awakened, before the soul fragment inside truly stirred, it was an unparalleled intelligence tool.
He handed the diary back to Fred, sweeping a calm glance over the trio's eager faces—Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, all burning with curiosity.
"This diary isn't meant to be written in."
His voice carried quiet authority, leaving no room for doubt.
"Try this instead. Dip the tip of your wand in ink."
He paused, making sure Fred followed his logic.
"Then don't move the wand. Just think your question—clearly—in your mind."
Fred looked doubtful, but Alan's authority within their little group was absolute. Reluctantly, he complied.
He dipped his wand tip into the ink bottle, staining it with a bead of thick black liquid. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to clear his mind, then carefully built a simple question in thought.
Who are you?
Before their eyes, the droplet of ink fell from the wand tip onto the page.
This time, instead of sliding off, the ink sank into the paper.
Moments later, the black stain began to writhe and stretch as though alive, forming elegant letters in sharp, old-fashioned script.
[Hello. My name is Tom Riddle. I was once a student at Hogwarts—many, many years ago.]
"Merlin's beard!" Lee Jordan gasped, jerking back in shock.
George's eyes went round as saucers, his jaw dropping.
Fred startled too, but his innate love of adventure quickly smothered his fear. His breath came fast, chest heaving with adrenaline.
Bracing himself, he closed his eyes again and thought of another question—the one that mattered most to mischief-makers like them.
Do you know the secrets of the castle?
The ink rippled once more. This time, it wrote even faster, as though the soul within couldn't wait to flaunt its knowledge.
[Secrets?]
[Of course I know.]
[I know every hidden passage in this castle, every door's unlocking charm, every mechanism's trigger. I know the shortcuts behind the portraits, and the whispers of the armors that speak in the dead of night…]
Line after line unfurled across the page, steeped in smug omniscience.
The three boys leaned closer, barely able to breathe, their eyes fever-bright with greed.
They realized then—what they held wasn't some ordinary diary.
It was a sentient, all-knowing map of Hogwarts, a weapon of intelligence far beyond anything they had ever dreamed.
~~----------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters:
[email protected] / Dreamer20