"Hello, my name is Lyla Hamilton." Lyla wrote her name word by word, then quietly watched the ink bleed into the page and disappear.
Honestly, this medium of communication seemed quite interesting. It was much, much more comfortable than having to talk to people face to face.
'If only all communication could be this simple,' she thought wistfully.
Hello, Miss Hamilton. May I ask... where did you get my diary?
"You mean... are you alive? I didn't steal it! I just suddenly found it in my bag..." Lyla quickly scribbled in a panic, suddenly terrified that if the other party thought she stole something, they might just climb out of the book and kill her.
I am dead. The handwriting of Tom, the diary's owner, was much more elegant and flamboyant than Lyla's. Just by looking at the script, Lyla could guess he must have been an exceptionally talented wizard.
'But such a talented wizard is already dead?' Lyla shivered, feeling the hair on her arms stand on end. 'Then who am I talking to? Could it be a ghost?'
Don't be afraid. This is merely a piece of my memory. Tom seemed to effortlessly guess Lyla's panicked thoughts. His words flowed smoothly onto the diary's page. My sixteen-year-old memory.
"A sixteen-year-old memory? Sustained inside a notebook?" Lyla was subconsciously a little... a little excited.
'Mr. Riddle must be an absolute genius!'
Lyla tightly clutched her pen and wrote, "You could create Magic Array items when you were only sixteen?"
"And such a complex, layered composite array at that!"
You know about Magic Arrays? Tom also seemed a little surprised, and his reply speed was noticeably faster. Can you identify the arrays in my diary?
"Some of it..." Lyla wrote, her academic excitement overriding her social anxiety.
This was the very first time she had met someone other than her father who could properly discuss Magic Array Studies with her. Even Miss Lovegood was only conceptually interested; most of the time, the eleven-year-old just quietly watched Lyla engrave.
But Mr. Riddle was completely different! He had independently created this diary long before she had, a masterpiece product of multiple array combinations!
'Such an unprecedented genius actually didn't leave a name in history...' Lyla wondered. 'What year was he born? Was it during those fifty years I was in a coma? Or long before me?'
Some of it? Tom's elegant handwriting paused for a few seconds. Which parts?
"Could you... could you teach me?" Lyla subconsciously wrote out her plea. Then she remembered she was talking to an inanimate diary, so she quickly gripped her pen and clarified:
"I only recognize the core runes for the Energy Storage Array and the Spatial Teleportation Array, and also this communication array... I'm not very familiar with the auxiliary support spells."
Lyla pursed her lips and added, "Can you teach me?"
No.
Tom answered Lyla's question almost immediately. I am not your Professor.
And... I do not remember the content of the arrays.
"You don't... remember?" Lyla felt a little surprised. "Didn't you create it?"
I am a sixteen-year-old memory, placed inside the diary before the artifact was fully completed, the diary smoothly lied. I only remember a fraction of it.
For example, I know the meaning of the Ancient Runes in the communication array.
'Is that so... But that's enough.'
Lyla only vaguely knew that those two Ancient Runes represented communication, but she was still highly unsure about the specific mechanics.
So she quickly wrote: "Can you tell me? I can exchange anything with you!"
Anything? Tom seemed deeply interested in Lyla's eager offer. After a brief, heavy silence, he replied: Then I have one simple request.
If you can help me with one thing... I can not only tell you the exact meaning of the Ancient Runes, but also share the location of a Chamber of Secrets filled with ancient array scripts.
'A Chamber of Secrets!'
'This is so cool!'
Lyla was so excited she subconsciously wanted to jump up from her chair.
"Then what should I do?" Lyla wrote frantically.
It's simple, Tom replied quickly. I am a Hogwarts student.
I have been away from my beloved alma mater for a long time... This is a place I desperately miss.
I miss stepping onto the Hogwarts grounds for the very first time. His handwriting was full of deep nostalgia, making Lyla sympathetically purse her lips.
I miss walking into the Hogwarts Great Hall for the first time and seeing those beautiful candles floating in the sky. His thoughts seemed to genuinely return to Hogwarts. His handwriting was exceptionally infectious, making Lyla subconsciously feel her blue eyes moisten slightly.
I also immensely miss my first Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. I miss how Professor Albus Dumbledore treated me...
"Bang!"
Lyla violently slammed the diary shut and gasped for air.
'Dum-Dum-Dum-Dumbledore... Why are you everywhere!'
Did Mr. Riddle understand the horrifying feeling of a jumpscare suddenly interrupting a warm, nostalgic story? Lyla immediately broke out in a cold sweat just seeing that cursed name.
The somewhat melancholic atmosphere had suddenly turned utterly terrifying.
"Mr. Riddle... please don't explicitly mention that person..." She carefully opened the notebook, confirmed that the terrifying words had disappeared, and then wrote with a trembling pen: "When you mention him, he will suddenly appear out of nowhere!"
That's right. Lyla firmly felt that whenever she so much as thought about defeating Dumbledore, he would magically appear right behind her. It gave her severe PTSD.
I understand. Tom was silent for a very long time before asking carefully: Then what exactly should I call him?
"Just... just 'that person' will do..." Lyla carefully wrote. "'That person' refers to Dum..."
Okay. Tom continued smoothly. Therefore... I really want to go back to Hogwarts. This is my biggest dream before I finally fade.
Miss Hamilton, can you please help me?
Of course... of course she could. This wasn't much of a hassle for Lyla. After all, she was about to practically live there.
"Okay, I promise you." Lyla thought for a moment and added: "But it has to wait until September."
September? Are you a student?
"No... no." Lyla's pen tip paused for a few seconds. After some catastrophic overthinking, she felt that telling a dead person her occupation seemed perfectly safe.
"I'm going to be a joint Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts in September." She paused and proudly wrote on the next line: "Professor."
That is perfect, I... The diary replied with incredible speed.
Lyla could easily see Tom's immense joy bleeding through his words, but she frankly wasn't curious about Hogwarts at all.
Especially since the topic might accidentally summon 'that person'... Dumbledore.
So she immediately continued writing, rudely interrupting Tom's unfinished emotional sentence: "Then can you tell me the meaning of that Ancient Rune first?"
Tom's elegant handwriting stalled, seemingly highly displeased at being so abruptly interrupted.
After about ten seconds of silence, he finally replied: These two Ancient Runes are a paired set, and can only be utilized when carved simultaneously.
One of them, the upward-opening semicircle, represents 'Connection', while the other, the downward-opening semicircle, represents 'Transmission'.
Regarding 'Connection', the specific size of the semicircular opening's arc acts as the pairing mark. Only two arrays with the exact same arc measurement can be magically linked.
And after physically carving the 'Transmission' rune, it is possible to transmit the physical state of one connected item directly to the other item.
'I see... So these two arrays work in perfect tandem...' Lyla's brilliant academic mind suddenly flooded with dozens of practical ideas. For example, she could easily create a paired necklace. If one party encountered severe danger, the other would be instantly aware.
Or, even better, it could be used for text-based communication.
For example, for Dumbledore... that way, he wouldn't have to literally jump-scare her in person for every minor consultant issue. Just writing to her through a paired array would be enough.
'This might be extremely good for my cardiovascular health,' Lyla concluded.
However, this method seemed only slightly faster than sending Nova the owl, although Dumbledore didn't seem to have the habit of using postal owls at all.
"Thank you, Mr. Riddle!" Lyla happily thanked Tom in the diary.
'It would be even better if you remembered more arrays,' she added greedily in her thoughts.