116: Chapter 116 Diary Sold

"Harry found a black diary."

Nott pressed this sentence under the page, his finger resting on the corner of *A History of Medieval Magical Plumbing*, as if pointing out some inconsequential note to Allen.

The Library was very quiet. Hermione sat three rows of bookshelves away, with old yearbooks and a register of ghosts spread out before her, the tip of her quill scratching densely against the parchment.

Allen did not look up. "Who saw it?"

"A second-year Ravenclaw, passing by the Second Floor Girls Lavatory. Ginny Weasley threw a book into the sink, and not long after she left, Harry Potter went in and picked it up." Nott turned a page, his voice hidden within the rustle of paper. "Myrtle was screaming above the sink at the time, saying someone threw something at her face."

Allen's fingertips paused.

Draco sat opposite, pretending to study his Potion essay, though he hadn't actually written a single word.

Hearing the two syllables "Harry," his shoulders tensed for a moment, but he forced himself to lower his head. "Potter picked up the diary? The Weasley Family's youngest daughter lost a diary? Has she finally come to her senses?"

Zabini stirred his cold pumpkin juice with a silver spoon. "Come to her senses? If she were truly sensible, would she throw something into a lavatory with a talking ghost? If a mouse fell into that place, the whole school would hear the wailing."

Nott closed the page halfway. "The problem is that the diary is now in Harry's hands. Ginny is panicked, and Tom has lost his target of control, but also gained a more suitable gateway."

Draco understood. "Parseltongue."

Allen smoothed out the page. "Harry will open it."

"Are you planning to snatch it back?" Draco looked at him immediately, his voice lowered. "If that thing really was planted by my father, getting our hands on it would let us know how much the Malfoy Family is implicated."

"Snatching it would alert Tom," Allen said. "The diary leaving Ginny means Ginny hasn't been drained yet. With Harry having it, Tom will change tactics. He will show Harry a memory that can mislead him."

Nott tapped the parchment with his quill tip. "Fifty years ago?"

Allen looked toward the area three rows of bookshelves away.

Hermione was resting her forehead in her hand, with *Hogwarts Yearbook*, *Excerpts from School Disciplinary Records*, and *Supplementary Register of Ghosts* laid out before her.

Her hair still carried the scent of Potion from the Hospital Wing, and her complexion was worse than it had been before Christmas, yet she looked more like a nail driven into a wooden board than anyone else.

"She cannot stop," Allen said.

Draco frowned. "Are you going to feed clues to Granger again?"

"She is better at organizing clues than Harry," Allen pulled a thin piece of parchment from the book. "Harry believes his eyes, but Hermione questions them."

Zabini looked at the paper. "Last time you wrote about the Chamber of Secrets, the Heir of Slytherin, the Girls Bathroom, and Parseltongue; what are you writing this time?"

Allen picked up his quill, dipped it in ink, and a few lines were quickly written down.

Basilisk, pipes, death upon direct gaze, petrification via reflection.

Draco stared at the paper, his face tightening. "This is practically shoving the answer into her mouth."

"It's still missing evidence," Allen folded the paper into a scrap no bigger than a fingernail. "Without evidence, Granger will only investigate faster."

Nott looked out the window. "How will you deliver it? Snape is watching you, Filch is watching the second floor, and the portraits might not be reliable either. Yesterday, the Knight portrait was boasting to another portrait about a knut, saying he was catching night-wanderers for the school."

"He's not tight-lipped," Zabini said. "But a greedy mouth is useful, and his flaws are predictable."

Allen tucked the scrap into the crack of the book spine, his fingertips tapping lightly under the table.

Inside the Portable Space, the void creature's tail tip pressed down on a knut, its silver vertical pupils aimed at the west windowsill of the Library.

Beside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch glowed with only a single line of light. The golden pattern on the north side extended outward, avoiding Professor Snape's office, avoiding the main staircase crowded with portraits, and bypassing the old anchor point left on the outer wall of the Owlery.

Peter curled up in the cage, his mouth sealed, able only to gesture frantically with his fingers. He pointed at the "diary," then at "Harry," and then drew his palm across his throat.

Allen did not look at him. "You're noisy even when you're quiet."

The edges of the cage tightened by half an inch, and Peter immediately shrank back into the corner.

Outside, footsteps could be heard from the gaps between the bookshelves.

Hermione carried three books toward the circulation desk. As she passed the table where Allen was sitting, Draco deliberately knocked his quill onto the floor.

"Damn it." Draco bent down to pick it up, his shoulder hitting the table leg, causing a few books to slide off.

Hermione instinctively stopped, frowning at him. "Malfoy, can you cause trouble even while sitting?"

Draco grabbed the books, putting on a look of disgust. "Granger, no one invited you to critique my sitting posture."

"You'd be better off spending your energy on your essay; Professor Snape said this morning that he would be checking the formatting."

"You eavesdrop on Slytherin conversations?" Draco slammed the books back onto the table, his voice rising, then lowering it again when Hermione looked over. "Or do you even keep track of how the Professor deducts our points?"

Hermione did not want to tangle with them and turned to leave with her books.

Her satchel strap loosened slightly.

An almost invisible scrap of paper drifted out from the shadows of the bookshelf, falling into the compartment of her bag and sticking to the back cover of *Supplementary Register of Ghosts*.

Nott stared at Hermione's retreating back. "It's delivered."

Zabini tapped the rim of his cup with a silver spoon. "Malfoy's acting when dropping the quill was more convincing than Gilderoy Lockhart."

Draco sat back down, his face looking unpleasant. "Don't compare me to that buffoon."

Allen closed the book. "From now on, don't go near Hermione. She will note down anything unusual."

"What about Harry's side?" Nott asked.

"Let him read the diary," Allen said. "Tom wants to use Hagrid as a scapegoat. After Harry finishes reading it, he will suspect Hagrid, and Hermione will suspect that suspicion."

Draco didn't understand. "Why are you sure Tom will show him Hagrid?"

Allen raised his eyes. "The only person who could be used to explain the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago is Hagrid. A half-Giant who raises dangerous animals, an old case where a student died, a person who was expelled from school. Tom will give Harry a convenient answer."

Zabini leaned back in his chair. "Convenient answers are the most dangerous; easy to pick up, hard to put down."

Nott noted this down. "Will Granger refute it?"

"Yes," Allen said. "Because a spider is not a snake."

Draco was taken aback. "What spider?"

Allen stood up. "You don't need to know. You just need to stay away from Hagrid, stay away from Harry, and stay even further away from Hermione."

Draco packed away his essay. "And stay away from water, I can already recite that."

Rapid footsteps came from the end of the corridor.

Harry ran past from the direction of the stairs, clutching a black diary, with Ron following behind, complaining about something.

Hermione caught up from behind, holding her books, a look of annoyance on her face at having her train of thought interrupted.

"Harry, you should at least tell me where it came from first," Hermione said.

"Myrtle's lavatory," Harry shoved the diary into his robes. "Ginny seems to have thrown it away. I want to see if there are any clues inside."

Ron lowered his voice. "It's empty, mate. Unless the Heir of Slytherin likes writing invisible diaries."

Hermione stopped, her fingers feeling into the compartment of her bag, touching that scrap of paper.

She pulled it out and looked, her expression tightening on the spot.

Harry looked at her. "What is that?"

Hermione gripped the scrap. "The second one."

Ron's voice went dry. "That anonymous person again?"

Hermione stared at the four lines of text on the paper, her throat moving. "Basilisk, pipes, death upon direct gaze, petrification via reflection."

The diary in Harry's hand suddenly felt heavier.

He looked down at the black cover. There were no words on it, yet it seemed to swallow the light in the corridor.

Ron took half a step back. "I'm starting to hate everything that can write."

Hermione put the paper in her pocket and turned to walk toward the Library. "I'm going to look up the Basilisk. Now."

Harry grabbed her sleeve. "What about the diary?"

"Don't write in it yet," Hermione shook him off. "Anything that can respond to you might be lying to you."

Allen stood in the shadows of the stairs, watching the three of them separate and then gather together.

Draco said in a low voice behind him, "You've played your second move."

Allen watched Hermione disappear behind the bookshelves. "Not a move, an insurance policy."

Draco was about to speak, but suddenly swallowed his words.

Professor Snape walked up from the dungeon stairs, his black robes brushing against the stone steps. His gaze fell first on the diary in Harry's arms, then turned toward the Library, and finally rested on Allen's face.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said. "You always seem to be standing in interesting places lately."

Allen hugged *A History of Medieval Magical Plumbing* to his chest. "At the entrance of the Library, Professor."

"I hope your extra essay is of equal interest," Professor Snape stopped in front of him. "Hand it to me by tomorrow evening. The topic: The erroneous application of snake venom in compound antidotes."

Draco's face darkened.

Nott lowered his eyes and quickly noted down the topic.

Zabini said softly, "He heard."

Professor Snape turned his head. "Mr. Zabini, do you wish to submit one as well?"

Zabini shut his mouth.

After Professor Snape left, Draco suppressed his anger. "He's forcing you to explain the Basilisk."

"He is protecting Hermione," Allen said. "And pinning me down in the process."

Nott looked toward the Library. "The Professor has already included Hermione within his scope of protection. The closer she gets to the answer, the more anxious Tom becomes."

Inside the Portable Space, the golden pattern on the north side jumped lightly.

The void creature raised its head, its tail tip sliding from Hermione's name to the diary, and then to Harry.

Inside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch emitted a short sound.

Allen said in a low voice, "The diary is about to speak."