133: Chapter 133 Location of the Diary

"You won't find it!"

Tom lunged violently toward Ginny. His translucent body passed through half the space, but collided with an invisible barrier three feet from the girl. The spatial wall made no sound, yet it sent his projection reeling, causing it to flicker.

Harry rushed forward two steps, "Ginny!"

"Don't go over there." Allen reached out to stop him, "There's a blockade around her; you'll just get in the way if you step inside."

"She's running out of air!"

"Then don't get in the way."

Harry was choked speechless, his face turning red, but he dared not actually rush in. He looked at Ginny's pale face and the ink stains on her fingers, feeling a heavy tightness in his chest.

Tom lay against the outside of the spatial wall, looking up at Allen, "You don't know how to destroy it. A diary can contain a soul; do you think ordinary flames are enough?"

"A Basilisk fang."

Allen's answer made Tom pause.

Harry also looked toward the Basilisk's corpse.

Tom's expression finally failed to hold, "How could you know that?"

"Venom can destroy soul containers. The Basilisk just died, the venom is still fresh."

"Who taught you that?"

"You aren't worthy to ask."

Tom suddenly turned and rushed toward the side wall of the Chamber of Secrets. He opened his mouth and spoke Parseltongue; a serpentine pattern on the wall lit up, and a rumbling sound of water came from the distant pipes.

Harry immediately raised his wand, "He's trying to escape!"

"He won't get away."

Allen tapped his wand against the ground.

The knut anchors he had placed all around the Chamber of Secrets lit up simultaneously. The main shaft of the Second Floor Girls Lavatory, the passage after the cave-in, the old drainage mezzanine, the hidden pipe behind the snake statue—all exits were pinned down within his Spatial Perception.

Tom's Parseltongue command crashed into the pipes, only to be intercepted and bounced back by the spatial anchors the next instant.

The serpentine pattern on the wall dimmed.

Tom turned to another spot.

Allen tapped his wand a second time.

Another pipe was sealed shut.

Tom tried four exits in succession, but all failed. Every time he uttered Parseltongue, it was blocked inside the Chamber of Secrets, as if someone had stuffed the entire underground space into a bottle.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine watching this.

He suddenly realized that Allen had treated the Chamber of Secrets as a cage from the very beginning. Tom thought he controlled this place, but from the moment Allen appeared, the home-field advantage had changed hands.

"When did you set these up?"

"While you were fighting the Basilisk."

"You really didn't stay idle for a second."

"It's easy to get sleepy when idle."

Harry almost thought he'd misheard.

Tom stood in the water, his projection growing fainter. He looked at the sealed pipes all around and finally cast his gaze toward Allen, "Don't you want to know why your parents' line has spatial talent? The water route surveillance under Hogwarts, the key positions of the Potter Family branch—do you think Dumbledore would tell you?"

Allen paused for a moment.

Tom seized this moment and continued, "I checked many old archives when I was at Hogwarts. Salazar left the Chamber of Secrets, and his descendants installed the surveillance. One line of the Potter Family participated in the sealing; your bloodline can respond to it. Let me go, and I'll give you what I found fifty years ago."

Harry became anxious, "Don't believe him!"

"It's not your place to remind me."

Allen looked at Tom, "If you had really found it, you wouldn't be trapped in a diary waiting for others to write in it."

Tom's face froze.

"Besides," Allen added, "your offer is too low."

Harry almost choked again.

Tom finally lost his patience. He raised both hands, and the water surface of the entire Chamber of Secrets began to vibrate. He wanted to drag the diary beneath Ginny into deeper water; even if Allen knew the location, he would first destroy the path to retrieve it.

The water surged from under the statue's feet, swirling toward Ginny.

Allen's gaze sharpened.

The spatial wall tightened, and the water was squeezed into an outer layer, making a low friction sound. Ginny's body wasn't washed away, but a corner of a black cover was vaguely revealed beneath her school robe.

Harry saw it, "There! It really is under her!"

Tom rushed over.

Allen was faster than him.

The blackthorn wand flicked forward, and the space beneath Ginny was divided into two layers. The upper layer supported the girl, keeping her body still; the lower layer pressed against the inner pocket of her school robe, like a thin hand sliding into the gap in the fabric.

The black-covered diary was slowly extracted.

Tom lunged halfway, but was blocked back by the spatial wall, his projection scattering and re-forming upon impact.

"No!"

Harry rushed over to catch it, but was stopped by Allen raising his hand.

"Don't touch it."

The diary hung in mid-air, its cover soaked, black ink churning on the surface. There were no words on the cover, but it possessed a viscous suction, as if it wanted to drag one's gaze inside as well.

Harry only glanced at it once, and the scar on his forehead began to burn.

He covered his forehead, "It's moving."

"A soul fragment is inside."

Allen moved the diary in front of himself but didn't touch it directly with his hands. Inside the Portable Space, the Void sat up, the blue light of the cracked pocket watch beside the ebony box dimmed even further, as if warning him not to let the diary get close.

Peter curled into a ball in the cage, his mouth sealed, his eyes bulging out.

Tom's body instantly became so translucent that the stone pillars behind him were almost visible.

He looked down at himself, revealing true panic for the first time.

"Give it back to me."

"Ordering who?"

"Allen Potter." Tom bit out the name, "You don't know what you're touching. This isn't an ordinary Dark Arts object; it carries the most important part of me."

"I know."

"Then you should keep it all the more. You study souls, you study space, you study the things Dumbledore refuses to tell you. It can teach you."

Allen stared at the diary and did indeed pause for half a second.

Harry's heart tightened, "Allen!"

Tom's voice lowered, "You are different from Harry. Harry lives on courage, and Dumbledore raises him on lies. You rely on your brain, on rules. You should understand that destroying me brings you no benefit."

Allen looked at the churning ink on the diary's cover.

"You're wrong."

Tom's eyes shifted, "What's wrong?"

"I hate strange things that can write."

Harry was stunned for a moment, suddenly remembering that on the train at the start of the term, Allen had warned him not to keep any strange things that could write by his side.

So he had known all along.

Or rather, he had been waiting for this moment.

Tom also realized it; the youthful veneer on his face was torn apart by anger, "You've been plotting against me since school started?"

"Since summer vacation."

"How dare you!"

"You're shouting too early."

Allen gripped the air with his left hand, and the diary was firmly fixed by space. The ink on the cover writhed frantically, attempting to burrow into his palm, but it was blocked on the outside by an interdimensional layer, only able to create black ripples on the cover.

Harry clearly heard a faint hissing sound coming from the diary.

The voice sounded like Tom, and yet like an older Lord Voldemort.

"Let me go."

Allen ignored him and turned to look at the Basilisk's corpse.

"Harry, the sword."

Harry immediately handed over the Gryffindor sword.

Allen took one look, "Not the sword. The Basilisk fang."

Harry's face flushed, and he hurriedly ran toward the Basilisk's head.

Fawkes flew along, stopping beside the Basilisk's head, watching Tom vigilantly.

Harry stepped on the slippery stone ground, enduring the lingering pain in his arm, and used the sword to pry open the Basilisk's upper jaw. A long fang had already loosened during the battle, and venom was still dripping from its base.

"I can't pull it out!"

"Use the sword hilt to break off the tip."

"Why don't you come help!"

"I'm busy suppressing him."

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration and had no choice but to comply. He inserted the sword at the base of the fang and pried hard. The fang finally broke loose, crashing into the water and splashing a patch of black-red liquid.

Tom suddenly lunged toward Harry.

Allen pressed down with his wand, and Tom's translucent body was pinned back in place.

"What's the rush?"

"You will die," Tom hissed, "Do you think destroying the diary will make the Master let you go? He has seen you. He remembers you blocking the Killing Curse. He will find you, cut you open, and take your soul..."

"He could only crawl through walls to escape last year."

This sentence made Tom go completely silent.

Harry picked up the fang, his fingers avoiding the tip, and hurried back to Allen's side, "Here."

Allen didn't touch the tip; he only used space to support the fang, suspending it above the diary.

The ink inside the diary suddenly stopped churning.

Tom looked up, his voice becoming low, "Think carefully. What you are destroying now is the greatest Wizard of the future."

Allen looked at him.

"The future?"

The fang descended.