Harry Potter and the Fortunate Queen

Chris sat on the table in the Gryffindor common room, opening the Fifty years old Diary in front of her. It was very late, so the room was completely empty. She flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. 

Chris pulled a bottle of ink and her quill out, thinking what should she do next. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming downstairs, she dipped her quill into the ink, and hold it above the blank diary page, so that it looks like she was writing.

"Hey."

Chris turned to see, it was Harry.

"Hi." Chris smiled.

"I thought you stop coming to the common room. You didn't come last two Fridays, did you?" Harry said sitting on a chair.

A drop of ink fell on the Diary page. Chris saw the ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished.

"Oh! It's.." Chris snapped the Diary shut before Harry can notice that. "I was a little busy, last two Fridays. How are you feeling about tomorrow's Quidditch match?"

"It's great, actually. Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup had never been better." Harry grinned. "Even Wood feels the same."

"Great... All the best to... you then." Chris said still watching the diary, from the corner of her eye.

"Right.. Thanks... Chris are you ok?"

"Yeah, why?" Chris looked at Harry.

"Nothing." Harry shrugged. "Well... is that your Diary?"

"Ye.. yup." Chris looked at the Diary. "Why?"

"No. I just thought... It's weird but.. like I know this Diary... somehow it's connected to me."

Harry said this staring at the Diary. 

"You know this Diary?"

"No. Not like that... I never saw it before.. but.."

Chris realized he was distracted.

"Harry!" she called.

"Huh?" Harry looked up. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying it's late. You've a match tomorrow, you need rest." Chris replied.

"Oh! Right. Ok." Harry got up. "Good night."

"Good night."

"What is up this Diary? How is this possible that Harry feels connected with it?" Chris mumbled after Harry left.

Chris loaded up her quill a second time and wrote, 

"Who are YOU?"

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Chris had never written.

"My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

"What the...?" Chris really wasn't expecting a reply.

But she gathered herself and wrote again.

"Hello Tom. Actually someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

Chris waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.

"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"Of course, if you frame innocent people, who will try to read your Diary?" Chris snorted but hurriedly wrote back,

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Riddle replied.

Chris thought, talking to a Diary wasn't safe specially after hearing Professor Flitwik's class. But she needed answers.

She wrote again and tried to look like a naive girl.

"Yes. I'm here now. In Hogwarts, terrible things are happening to muggle-borns, I'm a muggle-born too. I'm scared. Everyone thinks it's Harry Potter, behind this attacks. Do you know, who's behind those attacks?"

Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.

"In my fifth year, I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."

"Hagrid." Chris smiled. Then wrote back,

"So you don't think it's Harry Potter? He's innocent? Wait, do you know who's Harry Potter?"

Riddle was writing very fast now.

"Yes, of course I know. A girl, who wrote before you, told me all about the famous Harry Potter. The boy who conquered the Dark Lord."

"Conquered the Dark Lord? It's Ginny." Chris realized what was going on. 

"Nice talking to you Tom." Chris wrote.

"You never told me, what's your name?" Riddle wrote back, but this time slowly.

"Christina Norton." Chris wrote that, shut the Diary closed, then hid it inside the cabinet, beside her bed.

____________________________________________

Next morning, Chris got up and saw the room was empty. She called Leon, pulled a parchment and wrote something on it. Then tied it to Leon's leg.

"Deliver it to Hagrid, will you?" she asked.

Leon hooted happily and took off.

Chris checked the cabinet and saw the Diary was still there, then left to take shower.

After getting ready, Chris went for breakfast, but it was already late, the match was going to start any minitue now. So Chris just wrapped few toasts and becons in a napkin and set off towards the field.

On the way she saw Hermione running in opposite direction.

"Hermione.. where are you...?" Chris began but Hermione cut her off.

"Not now, Chris. I'm going to the library." Hermione said breathlessly, without stopping.

Chris decided to tell her everything about the Diary after she comes back from the library.

Soon Chris joined Ron in the stands. Luna made her way towards Chris. 

"I hope Gryffindors wins today." Ron said. "The atmosphere is really gloomy."

The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goalposts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

"Isn't Professor McGonagall?" Luna pointed a half marching, half running across the pitch, Professor McGonagall, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

"What's going on?" Chris looked surprised.

"This match has been canceled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"