Creak.
Dylan pushed open the door to the small wooden cabin after feeding Norbert and Sooty their dinner.
The salty sea breeze, laced with the scent of forest trees, slipped through the cracks of the door, filling the little cabin nestled between the woods and the ocean.
The afternoon sun was bright and warm.
As Dylan stepped inside, none of the lamps were lit—they were charmed to glow only at night.
He made his way to his worktable, setting a small box down on the scratched wooden surface.
Inside the box lay the unicorn blood diamond he'd acquired from Lockhart's home—a diamond with an eerie, warped surface that shimmered like a beating heart.
Just as Dylan prepared to study the blood diamond with magic and one of his alchemical creations, the diary he'd tossed carelessly to the corner of the table quivered.
A wisp of black mist seeped from a large crack in the diary's cover.
Slowly, the figure of young Tom Riddle materialized in the fog.
The guy looked younger than ever—probably because Dylan had tormented him too many times, and Dylan didn't always bother to restore his vitality fully.
"Where'd you get that thing?" Riddle asked.
Dylan shot him a glance, his expression cool. "Haven't learned how to talk to me properly yet, have you?"
Riddle: "…"
His ghostly form flickered, but his face betrayed real emotion. His eyelid twitched, and he clearly wanted to snap back but didn't dare.
"Ugh, what's that idiot Voldemort doing out there? Why hasn't he taken over Hogwarts yet?!" Riddle muttered under his breath.
Just wait! Once he ruled the world, he'd make sure to crush this infuriating, teenage monster—who was somehow more twisted and sinister than the darkest wizards—under his heel! Everything Dylan had done to him, he'd repay a thousandfold!
"What're you thinking about?" Dylan's voice cut through, sharp and sudden.
Riddle's heart—or whatever passed for it—skipped a beat. He forced a strained smile. "Just wondering where you got that thing."
Dylan eyed him. "Sounds like you know what it is."
A glint flashed in Riddle's eyes. This guy had the thing in his hands and didn't even know what it was? Maybe he could—
"Don't waste my time with nonsense," Dylan interrupted. "If even one word doesn't match what I already know… well, you know what happens." He smirked.
Riddle: (⊙_⊙)
"I don't know much," Riddle said quickly. "It's probably one of the three Sacred Diamonds. I had one once."
"Sacred Diamonds?" Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Three diamonds made from unicorn hearts?"
Riddle's gaze flickered. "That's the rumor."
Dylan narrowed his eyes, and Riddle shrank back toward the diary.
"I've only heard bits and pieces about the Sacred Diamonds," Riddle admitted.
"Spill it," Dylan said.
"I can't keep this soul form up for long," Riddle hedged.
"Make it interesting, and I'll give you three days free from my spell experiments."
Riddle perked up. "Well, I can manage a bit longer then." He shrank his soul form to conserve energy. "The legend says an ancient dark wizard crafted the three Sacred Diamonds centuries ago, using the hearts and blood of three adult unicorns. When the diamonds were made, the wizard was hit with a terrible curse and died horribly. After that, the diamonds were scattered across the world. Rumor has it, if you bring all three together, they'll grant your every wish."
Dylan snorted. "Sounds like a load of rubbish."
Riddle nodded. "Yeah, it's nonsense. I found one of the diamonds in a tomb at the bottom of an inland sea while searching for materials. I studied it, and sure, it's got some serious curse power, but nothing like the 'wish-granting' nonsense the legends talk about. It did give me ideas, though—showed me how useful unicorn blood could be."
Dylan rubbed his chin. "So, knowing about these diamonds, you never thought to track down all three?"
Riddle barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "It's not that simple. The legend mentions three diamonds, but who knows if it's true? The one I had didn't seem all that special, so why waste time chasing a fairy tale?"
He had bigger things to do back then. Did Dylan think he was some lovesick Hogwarts student, fussing over homework and flirting with professors? He was Voldemort, for Merlin's sake!
Dylan nodded, not disagreeing. "Fair point. You were probably a busy guy back in the day. And yet, here you are, stuck with me, humiliated and tortured, with no hope of escape."
Riddle: "…"
Why did this guy always have to twist the knife like that?!
What was Voldemort doing out there? Riddle was going mad in here! He cursed his older self again.
Dylan ignored his reaction. "So, what do you think these so-called Sacred Diamonds actually do?"
Riddle hesitated, glancing up nervously. But when he saw Dylan's wand start to glow with a holy light, he straightened up. "From my research, I think the diamonds are mostly for cursing others and attracting unicorns. If the three diamonds are real, gathering them won't grant wishes, but it might let you draw in and control a ton of unicorns."
Dylan nodded thoughtfully. That lined up with his own suspicions. There were likely three blood diamonds, and the one Riddle had wasn't the one with the silver thorn setting.
He looked up. "Where's the diamond you had?"
Riddle shook his head. "I'm dead. How would I know where my stuff ended up?"
Dylan squinted. "You sure about that?"
Riddle: "Yeah, I'm sure. Maybe if you track down my old followers, you'll find it."
Riddle knew this maniac was even crazier than he was. With talk of controlling unicorns, Dylan would be hooked—who wouldn't want an endless supply of unicorn blood?
Riddle had seen Dylan use unicorn blood for dark experiments more than once. The guy must've killed an entire unicorn to get that much blood! Even he, Voldemort, hadn't been that extravagant.
"Not bad," Dylan said coolly. "That's somewhat useful."
Riddle's face lit up. Did this mean three whole days without this lunatic tormenting him? Every time Dylan walked in, Riddle braced himself, never sure if he was about to be tortured or ignored. The constant dread was unbearable.
But Dylan's next words froze him. "Not that useful, though. So, no holiday for you."
"What? No, you can't—"
"*Avada Kedavra!*"
"Aghhh!!!"
Black smoke billowed from the diary as Riddle's form collapsed into a broken, limbless state.
Dylan flicked his wand casually. "I can do whatever I want."
Riddle lay crumpled beside the diary, his tiny form barely the size of an arm, glaring at Dylan with his one good eye.
"I don't like that look," Dylan said.
"I—"
"*Crucio!*"
"AHHH!!!"
Two curses later, Dylan felt refreshed. "One last question. Where's the third diamond?"
Riddle, now a twisted, shrunken wreck on the table, was barely half an arm's length. His translucent soul flickered weakly, his once-piercing eyes clouded and dull. Each ragged breath rasped like sandpaper.
"I… don't know," he gasped. Fearing another curse, he hurried on. "The Sacred Diamond legend is obscure. Unicorns are rare, and Dumbledore's protecting a herd. Maybe he's got the last one. Or… ask Grindelwald. He might know something."
Go on, Riddle thought bitterly. Grab Grindelwald, or even Dumbledore, and make them suffer too. Why should I be the only one tortured by this psycho?
"Sounds like you're out of useful info," Dylan said, looking at Riddle like he was trash.
Riddle, too weak to move, seethed under the humiliating stare but could do nothing. He hated this.
Dylan waved a hand. At the other end of his world, a swarm of cockroaches and snakes exploded into blood and gore, their life essence drawn to him. He channeled it into the diary, slowly mending Riddle's broken form.
Ignoring him, Dylan turned to study the blood diamond.
By late evening, he'd figured out its basics. It was brimming with curse energy, but its uses were limited, mostly targeting pure creatures like unicorns. The diamond, an alchemical creation made from a unicorn's heart and blood, could disrupt a unicorn's mind if you got close with it.
Dylan wasn't impressed. He could drop someone's sanity with a glance using his Eldritch Gaze spell. Even a phoenix with Dumbledore in tow would probably lose it. His Serpent's End stare was just as brutal for mental attacks.
Still, the diamond had one other trick: when activated with magic, it released a blood mist. Dylan tested it on rats and other creatures, not Lockhart. Those caught in the mist went berserk, attacking anything nearby. Wounds caused by the diamond carried a curse that resisted normal magical healing. Dylan figured even a unicorn's purity wouldn't heal such a cut.
He couldn't find more uses without a unicorn to test on, so he left it at that.
Stepping out of his suitcase space, Dylan didn't see Harry around. He left the dorm and headed to the Gryffindor common room, where a crowd of young wizards buzzed with excitement.
It was nearly time for the Halloween feast. Percy was organizing everyone into orderly lines, making sure they didn't rush out in a mob. They filed through the Fat Lady's portrait and down to the Great Hall, which the professors had transformed.
Dylan glanced around, impressed. This year's Halloween decor was top-notch. Hundreds of carved pumpkins with grimacing faces lined the walls, their candlelight spilling through hollow eyes and jagged mouths, casting dancing shadows like mischievous goblins. McGonagall's transfigured silver-gray bats swooped around the ornate ceiling, their wings scattering tiny sparks that mingled with the glow of golden chandeliers, sprinkling light across the house tables.
Twelve orange velvet banners hung from above, their edges embroidered with golden threads depicting snarling ghosts and flickering wands. Blue flames floated in the air, shifting shapes—sometimes a shrieking banshee gliding through the crowd, other times a grinning pumpkin bobbing up and down.
Candlelight, bat shadows, and flickering flames wove together into a magical tapestry, turning the Great Hall into a mysterious, vibrant Halloween wonderland.
Dylan took a seat with the others. The tables groaned under heaps of food: massive roast turkeys glistening with golden fat, stacks of crispy pumpkin pies topped with fresh mint, and sizzling sausages filling the air with savory aromas.
"Starving," Dylan muttered, licking his lips.