A Real Dark Lord
A question mark slowly emerged on the pristine white page of Tom's diary, reflecting his current state of mind.
"No, I don't get what you're saying, Luke?"
His handwriting remained hurried, betraying his growing unease.
"It means exactly what it says, Tom."
Luke propped his chin on one hand, scribbling with a quill in the other.
"When you've got nothing left to teach me, it simply means you're of no value.
"And—let's be honest, you were just trying to control me, weren't you?"
His script remained elegant and coherent.
Yet, though nothing manifested on the diary's pages,
Luke could sense the tremor coursing through it, a prelude to a volcanic eruption.
"Luke, what's going on?" Hermione approached, curious.
"Just jotting down some thoughts in my diary."
Luke snapped the diary shut, a sly grin playing on his lips.
"Really?" Hermione squinted slightly, but refrained from probing further.
After all, everyone harbors their own secrets, and she too held certain aspects of her life she preferred to keep private from Luke.
Much like the moments before sleep...
With a shake of her head, Hermione dismissed the thoughts, focusing on the present.
"It's nearly nine o'clock; let's not keep Professor McGonagall waiting." With that, she tugged Luke from his seat.
He clutched the diary tightly as they departed.
Such an item couldn't be carelessly stashed away in the Shenwei space.
"Honestly, Fred's twins—never around when you need them!"
Ronald grumbled, gathering his books and trailing after Luke and Hermione.
Harry scratched his head, wrestling with the unfamiliar spell Professor Flitwick was set to examine.
In Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class,
Malfoy and Crabbe predictably sauntered in late,
The first wizards besides Harry and Ronald to dare such tardiness in her class.
"I must inform Severus," Professor McGonagall exclaimed angrily.
Luke couldn't help but worry about Malfoy's fate. Snape had been in a foul mood lately, and he hoped Malfoy wouldn't face too severe a punishment.
With the textbook slowly opening, the Transfiguration class officially began. Second-year wizards were tasked with turning animals into objects, with no room for error. Luke, already proficient in the spell, found the class easy.
Hermione, who had practiced the Transfiguration spell diligently with Luke over the holidays, took notes attentively during class.
Luke idly opened the diary he had left on the table, but it remained silent since the last message. The initial tremor now seemed like a distant memory, leaving the diary appearing ordinary.
"You show potential to become a real dark lord," a line of text slowly appeared in the diary, seemingly in response to Luke's actions.
"Thank you. I appreciate the compliment," Luke replied with a wry smile, writing with a quill pen. It wasn't every day he received praise from Voldemort.
The diary then stated, "You can't kill me!"
Luke was taken aback, then chuckled. There were only two known ways to destroy Horcruxes: with the fangs of a Basilisk or using the Fiendfyre spell, which Tom had taught him.
"Luke Geralt, you'll soon realize the consequences of your deception!" the diary warned before falling silent once more.
Luke's curiosity piqued as he noticed the diary shaking once again. This time, it seemed more deliberate, as if it was trying to draw his attention.
With a furrowed brow, Luke opened the diary, wondering what new message or response awaited him.
To his surprise, the diary remained blank, devoid of any text or indication of Tom's presence.
Luke's mind raced with possibilities. Was Tom trying to communicate with him through the diary, or was there another force at play?
With caution, Luke picked up his quill and wrote a question on the blank page: "What do you want?"
He waited, his heart pounding with anticipation, wondering if he would receive a response.
.....
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