As Halloween approached, an air of festive excitement settled over Hogwarts. For Sean, however, it was a time of heightened vigilance. He began to pay extra attention to Ginny Weasley, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Blaise, whose mind immediately leaped to the most obvious, and incorrect, conclusion.
"Sean," he had warned tactfully one afternoon, "even in the wizarding world, she's a bit young, don't you think? Perhaps you should wait until she's... older."
For his trouble, Sean had given him a thorough, non-magical beating that had left Blaise yelping in protest.
On the evening of Halloween itself, Blaise found Sean lingering in the common room as the other students were heading to the feast. "Aren't you going to the Great Hall?"
"No," Sean replied, his eyes distant. "I have other things to do."
"Do you need me to go with you?"
"Not for now. You go on ahead. Andy and Jensen should be there. Tell them I'll catch up with them later."
"Alright then," Blaise said with a shrug. He had grown used to Sean's sudden, mysterious disappearances. He knew better than to ask questions.
As Blaise left, the Slytherin common room emptied out, the allure of the feast and the rumored skeleton dance troupe Dumbledore had invited proving too much for even the most jaded of Slytherins. Alone in the green-tinged quiet, Sean stretched, then pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. He retrieved a small, enchanted bag from his trunk, walked out into the dark, empty corridor, and with a whispered incantation, vanished.
Ginny Weasley awoke with a gasp, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was in a girls' washroom, but not one she recognized. It was old, grimy, and in a state of advanced disrepair, clearly abandoned for years. She scrambled up from the cold, damp floor, her eyes darting around frantically.
Then she saw it. The diary.
It lay on the floor a few feet away, its black cover innocuous, inviting. She reached for it instinctively, a sense of desperate need washing over her. But as her fingers brushed against the worn leather, she froze.
Ginny was not a foolish girl. On the contrary, she was quite intelligent. The strange memory lapses, the unsettling dreams, the feeling of not being in control of her own body... she had pieced it together. The source of all her recent troubles was this diary. Her parents' warnings echoed in her mind: if you ever encounter a magical item with a mind of its own, discard it immediately and run. It is, one hundred percent, a dark artifact.
A part of her screamed to do just that. To abandon the diary here, in this forgotten place, and never look back. But another part of her hesitated. The boy in the diary, Tom, was the only person who had ever truly understood her. He listened to her secrets, her fears, and her silly crush on Harry Potter. He was her friend. Her only friend. She couldn't just abandon him.
In that moment of hesitation, of weakness, a ghostly, spectral figure appeared beside her, its voice a soothing, seductive whisper in her ear. "Ginny... let's go back. Take me with you. We can have a nice long chat. We can talk about Harry. I know you want to share your thoughts with me... your friend."
The voice was hypnotic. Ginny's eyes glazed over, her resolve crumbling. She nodded slowly, a dreamy expression on her face, and picked up the diary, clutching it to her chest. "That's right," she murmured. "Tom is my best friend. I won't give him up. He would never hurt me. He's my best friend."
"That's right, Ginny. I am your best friend. I need you to protect me. Come, take me back. Leave this place."
The Basilisk had been released. The soul fragment of Tom Riddle, using Ginny as his puppet, had given the great serpent its orders. All that remained was to leave a message. He guided her through the castle corridors, sensing the location of the attack. He found Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, lying stiff and unmoving on the floor.
The soul fragment frowned. The cat was not dead, merely petrified. He saw the reflection in the puddle of water on the floor and understood. It would have to do. A petrified cat, on Halloween night, would be enough to sow the seeds of terror.
He controlled Ginny's hand, forcing her to dip her fingers in a pot of red ink she had brought and scrawl two lines on the wall.
[THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.]
His work done, he began to guide Ginny away. But at that moment, a flash of red light erupted from the shadows behind them. It struck Ginny in the back, and she collapsed, unconscious.
An invisible force caught her just before she hit the ground, gently lowering her to the floor. Sean stepped out of the shadows. He walked to her side and, with his gloved left hand, carefully took the diary from her limp grasp, placing it into his enchanted bag. He then levitated her body and carried her away from the scene.
Not long after, Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived, their cheerful mood from the feast evaporating at the sight of the petrified cat and the bloody words on the wall.
Sean, meanwhile, had deposited the still-unconscious Ginny in a shadowed alcove, where she would be found soon enough. He then returned to the Slytherin common room, the diary safe in his bag. He had already sent Kulkan to Blaise's room, a necessary precaution against the Parseltongue the soul fragment might use to control his familiar.
Sitting at his desk, he took out the diary and removed his gloves. But as he was about to open it, a series of prompts, unlike any he had seen before, flashed in his mind's eye.
[System Alert: Horcrux Detected.]
[Analysis: Contains soul fragment from a familiar source.]
[Potential Action: Absorb soul fragment to initiate the Third Magic Power Awakening.]
[Requirement: You must duel and defeat the soul fragment within the Horcrux to begin conversion.]
[Note: Extraction of the soul fragment can be initiated at any time.]
A final, direct question appeared, pulsing slightly in his mind's eye.
[Extract Soul Fragment and Initiate Duel?]
[Yes / No]
Sean stared at the prompt, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. He chose "No." He would not pass up the opportunity for a third awakening, but now was not the time. First, he wanted to have a little chat.
He picked up a quill, dipped it in ink, opened the diary to its first blank page, and wrote:
Hello, Tom.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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