☞ 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔

"You have to mean it!" I yelled across the sea of struggling students. Everyone had gathered into a circle, each taking a jab at hitting the dummy. The wooden figure representing a dark wizard swung around and around, as no one yet managed to perfect the charm.

People began to lose hope, some even choosing to completely give up, instead opting to stand aside or catch the last of lunch in the Great Hall. I began to second guess my choice of spell this week, until...

"Deletrius!" Ginny yelled as the dummy headed for her. In a flash, the dummy disintegrated, breaking down into nothing before anyone realised the spell worked. Ginny did it.

"Amazing Ginny!" I cheered while wrapping her into a hug along with Mione and Moon. Ginny's face turned pink, shyly thanking us. "Did everyone see that? Take note of her stance and clear pronunciation, that is the key to perfection." I addressed the room, most of whom were still processing what had happened.

"Imagine facing an army of demonstrators, a pack of wolves or even a troll and if you or a friend are a blink away from death facing a death eater, although I do not recommend using this spell on a witch or wizard if not completely necessary as a last resort, this spell could very well be the difference of your life." I added once more, hoping to motivate those who have not yet completely given up.

"We will continue this next week. If you wish to practice before then, please come back here or find a safe open place to do so. Do not practice on each other." I warned, looking at the twins. Their smirks dropped once they noticed my glare, a sheepish smile replacing their smirks.

People began to file out of the room, still in awe of Ginny and her success. Soon, it was just me and the golden trio. Just as I planned to leave, Harry pulled me back. "Hey, what's wrong?" I worried.

"No, nothing. Everything is brilliant." Harry smiled awkwardly as he stumbled on his words. Ron cringed at the boy while Hermione huffed with an eye roll. "The book." Is all Harry added, as he pulled out a crimson-red book made from worn-down leather. I knew what he meant.

"Here?" I questioned the trio, worried someone might see us, and begin to think we were meddling with the wrong side of magic. Hermione explained it was the safest option compared to the rest of the castle. Even the restricted section wasn't much good for hiding from watchful eyes anymore.

"Right, let's crack on, shall we." Ron spoke, clapping his hands together and then rubbing them. Hermione and I glanced at each other, then back at Ron, silently staring at his odd enthusiasm for what we were about to do. "What?" He chuckled a little, confused by everyone's silence. Then, Harry, Hermione and I began to softly laugh, prompting Ron to say: "I'm just hyping myself to open the book! I've never done it before."

Once we had calmed down, we gathered in a circle in the centre of the room. Harry placed the book, unopened, in front of us. Harry now leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he sat with his legs crossed, his sleeves rolled up. Ron sat to the left of Harry, leaning back on his hands, his tie completely undone and resting on his shoulders. Hermione sat up straight to the left of Ron, a pile of parchment in hand with a quill and an ink pot to her right, along with more parchment to her left. Also to her left, was myself, next to Harry.

The room was eerily quiet, as we looked determined between us. Then, Harry slowly began to lift the cover of the book. Before the book was even an inch open, it slapped open as red blinding light poured out of the pages. The four of us were thrown backwards as Hermione's pages began to whirl around the room following the tornado of white and red light originating from the middle pages.

The wind persistently blew harshly in our faces, blowing around our hair and robes, until it began to calm. "What the bloody hell is happening?" Ron yelled over the chaos. None of us answered her, we couldn't, as we were each as clueless as the next.

Soon, the white light in the middle of the red began to take the shape of something. No, someone. Him. There he was, Tom Riddle, looking at us. He stood tall, a troubled look on his face, dressed in a black suit. A red aura encompassed him. Hermione, Ron, Harry and I collected ourselves, before grouping together, wands ready.

"I'm not sure why I'm doing this." Tom Riddle spoke, looking down to his feet. Confused, we all backed away, keeping our guard raised high. "I'm not sure if I'll destroy this book, or hide it away. Regardless, if anyone is seeing this currently, this is a memoir of sorts. A dairy, if you will. However, my thoughts won't be told in pages and pages or words but will be told by myself, an image preserved in these pages. Unfortunately, I cannot turn this book into a..." he stopped, shaking his head.

Tom took a moment, muttering to himself. "That is not my reason for creating this book. Leave that part of your life out of it." He finished, his head now facing forward. "I cannot get her out of my head. Novella Black. She may still be attending Hogwarts, but she's... different. She's young, naive, untainted by this cruel world, bright-eyed, intelligent, and incredibly beautiful." Tom began to smile, his eyes lighting up in a pure way yet there was also a slight look that was almost sinister.

"Do not get me wrong, beauty, romance and love is senseless, I do not care for it. I never cared for it, until I met her." Tom then went silent, as he began to pace back and forth.

"Right, can someone please tell me what's going on!" Ron stressed, our eyes never leaving Tom Riddle. Harry agreed with him, and the pair of them began to stress each other out.

"That's an Imagibook. It was a Zonko's product sold over half a century ago and used to be very popular. It was used as a sort of diary, to keep a store of moments in time rather than writing words. Tom Riddle must've modified it, including the cover." Hermione interrupted the boys, spewing out her knowledge of the matter.

"But why use it? He has a diary..." Harry added, the four of us observing as Tom Riddle gripped his hair in frustration, muttering Novella's name over and over.

"Didn't you hear him? He's keeping this romance separate from his other work, maybe even a secret from everyone else in his life." I piped up, just as Tom suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"I know what to do..." He spoke softly, before quickly turning around. "Malfoy!" He yelled harshly, a faint 'Yes, my Lord.' could be heard in the distance. Get me the Black's address! I must write to them, now!" He yelled before the red light faded, and the book flipped shut.

After a moment of silence, Harry steps forward and picks up the book. "That must've been his only entry." He says, looking disappointed. "So she was Mattheo's mum?" Harry added, looking to me for confirmation. I nodded sadly. That poor girl...

"I'm sorry, I need to go..." I muttered, quickly grabbing my bag and heading out of the room of requirement. I ran down the hallway, my mind rushing with thoughts. Novella Black, a mysterious woman who somehow captured the evil heart of a monster... to the point where it was almost torturing him.

Unable to calm myself, I retreat to the darkness of the restricted section, hoping to find peace there and finally catch my breath. Pushing myself through dusty bookshelves, I stumble across the last group of people I'd ever want to face while in the state I am.

We locked eyes. I watched his body stiffen in fright, before relaxing a moment later. "Y/n?" Riddle whispered, nabbing the other's attention. I knew I couldn't tell him. Any of them. "You're crying?" He spoke softly, placing down the book he held to face me. Riddle began to step towards me.

"Stay away." I babbled out as my eyes blurred with tears. My back hit a self, causing a book to fall. I jumped at the slam of it hitting the ground, letting out a loud gasp. "Merlin's beard."

"What happened?" Malfoy then stepped forward, reaching out to try and stabilise me. Before he could help, I stepped away again, knocking more books from their places.

"I'm sorry... I need to leave." I spoke through my tears, however my legs made no effort to move. I felt utterly pathetic crying in front of these boys. Blaise and Theo had grabbed a chair and tried to get me to sit. I refused.

"Why are you sorry?" Riddle spoke softly, the four of them standing around me, trying to console me. I couldn't look away from Riddle. He had his mother's eyes...

"Did she love him?" I blurted, looking at Riddle for an answer. His eyes furrowed, confused, he looked to his friends wondering what I was talking about.

"Who, Y/n?" Malfoy asked, looking very concerned. I began to cry, as I attempted to explain that I couldn't bear the thought of marrying someone, having their children, being shipped off by someone you do not love. That only confused them more.

"Your mother, Mattheo. Did she love your father?" I cried more, realising she was younger when being wedded. I realised she was my age when she had Mattheo. I wondered how old she was when he killed her...

"I- I'm not sure." Mattheo was taken aback, his face plastered with worry. "Why are you asking this?" The dreaded question left his perfect lips. I froze. Not a sound could be heard from me, despite how desperate I was to say something. Anything would've sufficed.

"Y/n? What happened to you?"