Chapter 69: The Book
Chapter 69: The Book
“Maledictus curse, a curse passed down from generation to generation.”
The dim light illuminated the space in front of Sherlock’s desk. After finishing the second-grade class in the morning, he began preparing the next week’s material. Except for another class for the fourth-grade students in the afternoon, he stayed in the office most of the time.
It was getting dark outside. Sherlock stood up from his seat and paced back and forth in the office to move his stiff body. He didn’t eat dinner and wasn’t in the mood to eat it.
The current situation at Hogwarts is chaotic, although he didn’t mean to cause it. But the reason why it became such a mess is because of his appearance. Sherlock is not a hero, but he still doesn’t want to run away from the responsibility he should take.
After crossing into this world, since he replaced the original Sherlock and became a professor at Hogwarts while enjoying the things from the original Sherlock, he must undertake the obligations that the original Sherlock should take.
Protecting this school and the students is his duty and responsibility. Otherwise, the original normal development of the story would deviate more, which caused Hogwarts to not deal with this incident and shut down.
The troubles he created should be solved, and if he runs away, it is simply a cowardly move. Sherlock has always been concerned about catching the heir of Slytherin and almost told Dumbledore all the clues he knew from his previous life.
But in this situation, those clues are obviously useless, and things are developing in an increasingly unknown direction. Sherlock stood quietly in front of the window, looked out at the dark mountains, and muttered to himself.
“It’s completely deviated from the original. What a mess.”
At the same time, in the Gryffindor common room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione discussed this for a long time, but they didn’t come up with any results.
“Forget it. Let’s just go back to sleep. We’ll look for clues for the heir of Slytherin and see who is more suspicious besides Draco.” They parted in the common room, and Harry and Ron walked back to their bedroom together.
“Why haven’t Neville and Seamus lately?” Seeing the empty bedroom, Harry asked suspiciously.
Ron replied, “After dinner in the afternoon, I saw that Snape took them away. His expression was bad as if there was something wrong with the potions they had made together in the class. They were probably being punished by helping him out in his office.”
A moment of silence appeared on Harry’s face for Neville and the others, “I hope they can come back alive.”
He sat on his bed, and before he lay down, the corner of his eye suddenly caught a glimpse of his desk. He didn’t know when an old book appeared. Harry sat up from the bed again. With a confused look, he walked to his desk, picked up the book, and asked Ron.
“Is this yours?”
Ron turned his head to look, shook his head, and said, “I haven’t written a diary at all. I suggest you not open it. There are many curses in the wizarding world that are released through books.”
At the same time, he warned about it, Harry had already opened the diary. Inside, the old and yellowed pages were blank.
“This is just an ordinary book, not as scary as you said.”
Ron was taking off his sweater and going to shower before going to sleep. “Maybe you accidentally took someone else’s book while you were in class? There’s nothing written on it anyway, and it’s estimated that the person who lost it won’t look for it again. I’m going to take a shower.”
After speaking, he left the bedroom, leaving Harry alone in the room. He sat at the desk and continued to study the book by himself. Ron’s speculation was clearly wrong, as Harry discovered that the date of the book’s cover indicated that it was made fifty years ago.
There was not a single word in the diary. On the first page, he could only read a name written in ink, Tom Riddle.
Flipping back further, there really isn’t a single letter there. Finally, Harry turned to the back cover and saw the name of a newsagent in Vauxhall Road, London.
“This Tom Riddle must be a Muggle,” Harry thought to himself, “That’s why he bought the book on Vauxhall Road.”
Harry took the book and studied it for a long time. He yawned and went back to the bed to lie down. But before Ron, Neville, and the others returned, Harry sat at the desk again. He dipped a bottle of ink with a quill, trying to write something on the book.
However, the tip of his pen swiped across the page, leaving a trace of ink, which soon disappeared as if absorbed by the book.
Harry’s eyes widened.
He tried to pick up the ink bottle and drop the ink into the diary. The diary was like a dry sponge, absorbing all the ink that fell on it. Just as Harry was amazed by this, a line of black words suddenly appeared on the blank page.
[Hello, you don’t need to pour ink on it anymore. You can write in the book to communicate with me.]
Harry was excited. He felt like he had discovered something remarkable. He picked up the quill again and wrote in the book.
[Hello, my name is Harry Potter.]
The book also responded.
[Hello, Harry Potter, my name is Tom Riddle. How did you find my book?]
The words disappeared quickly, but Harry began to make a reply.
[I don’t know how, but it appeared on my desk.]
[I guess they wanted to throw me away. Fortunately, I have everything that I know of in this book. I always knew that there were always some people who didn’t want this book.]
Harry was even more excited; he felt that Tom Riddle in this diary must know about the Chamber of Secrets.
[What do you mean by that?]
He scribbled so hard that he pierced the paper.
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