Professor Vampire.

Chapter 74: The Confusion of Tom Riddle

Tom Riddle was feeling confused.

He had no idea what was going on, what he should be doing, or even if his name was truly Tom Riddle.

After all, he was just an abandoned diary.

...

The scene shifts to the previous day, in Quirrell's cramped assistant office.

Quirrell had gone out to collect homework, leaving behind a phantom figure in the office.

"I'll be stealing the Philosopher's Stone tomorrow," the handsome boy's phantom sat quietly by the window, gazing at the diary in front of him.

The diary flipped open on its own, and neat handwriting appeared on a blank page—

"Haven't you already taken over my body? Why would you need to discuss this with me?"

The ink revealed an annoyed emotion, clearly displeased with its body being possessed.

"It seems you still don't understand. I am the one who created you, the one who controls all the Horcruxes' primary soul!" Voldemort's tone carried a hint of anger, "Without the memories left in the diary from my youth, how could you have the magical prowess to form a soul body?"

"But you were still defeated by a baby," the diary wrote.

Voldemort's face contorted, as if he wanted to tear the diary apart.

After a long pause, he took a deep breath to calm his anger.

"I didn't bring you out to argue," Voldemort said in a low voice, "I have important instructions for you. This concerns whether I can successfully revive and our shared future!"

"You want your body back? Fine, I'll return it to you!"

The ink on the diary pages suddenly scattered, indicating intense emotions, almost destabilizing the text.

"Are you serious? But why would you return the body to me?" Moments later, the ink reformed into a new line of text.

"After absorbing the unicorn's life force, I no longer need to rely on your body to act," Voldemort explained.

Simultaneously, the handsome boy's phantom was absorbed into the diary, replaced by another figure with twisted features, a missing nose, and no hair, standing by the window.

"Tomorrow's mission is crucial, but my enemies are very powerful," the now hideous-looking Voldemort said, his red eyes flashing continuously, "Dumbledore and Dracula are both formidable opponents. Even if I can use some tricks to delay them, it won't be for long."

"So, there is a possibility of failure tomorrow!"

"Do you need me to do something?" the diary hesitated for a moment before writing.

"No, you don't need to do anything," Voldemort's gaze was grim, "I will place you in the safest place. You just need to protect yourself."

"Remember, every Horcrux is my life, and I never risk my life. I will reattach myself to Quirrell. Having him as cannon fodder is sufficient!"

The diary was silent for a moment before writing two words:

"I understand."

...

The diary lay quietly in the so-called safest place Voldemort mentioned, spending an entire day in anxiety.

In the evening of the next day, just as the sunset was rising outside the window, Riddle's soul within the diary became wildly agitated.

He suddenly sensed an intense disturbance in his primary soul, Voldemort.

Following that, the primary soul's position moved rapidly, getting closer and closer, with the connection between them growing stronger, mixed with extreme fear and urgency.

Outside the window, a skull carrying a plume of black smoke seemed to unintentionally circle around the eighth floor of the main tower. At the moment it was closest to the castle, it transmitted a brief yet intense message to the diary—

"Hide in Hogwarts Castle! The diadem near you will assist you! Obtain Harry Potter's blood!!!"

Shortly after receiving the message, an unexpected dark moon rose in the sky, which had not yet seen the end of the sunset.

Then, Riddle in the diary could no longer sense the presence of the primary soul...

"Sigh—"

The handsome boy's phantom emerged from the diary, sighing deeply.

He was now utterly lost, not knowing what to do next.

Should he follow the primary soul's instructions to hide in Hogwarts Castle and find a way to obtain Harry Potter's blood?

He hesitated.

On one hand, Riddle didn't know why Voldemort needed Potter's blood. On the other hand, Dumbledore and Dracula loomed like mountains, making him too afraid to act recklessly.

As he pondered aimlessly, he recalled the second, seemingly irrelevant part of Voldemort's message—

"The diadem near you will assist you."

Riddle looked around but found no diadem-like object nearby. However, he didn't believe that Voldemort would leave an unnecessary message in such an urgent situation.

So Riddle raised his head, scanning the room.

He stood in a space as large as a cathedral, where high windows cast beams of sunset light, illuminating numerous old and ancient items piled high, forming a city of towering walls—these were items hidden here by generations of Hogwarts students or professors.

"The Room of Requirement?" Riddle murmured.

When Voldemort was young, he had mentioned this magical place in his diary, so the Tom Riddle born from the diary's Horcrux quickly recognized his location.

Riddle felt a surge of curiosity.

He picked up the blank diary and began moving through the narrow paths between the piles of various objects.

The passageways were lined with precariously stacked broken furniture, likely hidden here to cover up spell mishaps; thousands of books piled together, mostly forbidden books, defaced books, or stolen books; some broken bottles contained solidified potions, with a few still glowing with malevolence; there were also a few rusty swords and a blood-stained axe...

Riddle carefully examined his surroundings until he suddenly felt a raspy call from deep within his soul—

He could sense that the item calling to him shared the same origin.

It was another of Voldemort's Horcruxes!

Riddle abruptly turned, entered a narrow path in the treasure pile, passed a giant troll specimen still emitting a foul odor, and quickly walked toward the source of the call.

Finally, he stopped before a large cabinet with a blistered surface, as if it had been doused in strong acid.

Next to the cabinet was a crate with a broken statue of an ugly old wizard on top, and behind the statue lay a rusty diadem.

The setting sun slowly sank beneath the Black Lake, and two differently colored moons rose in the sky, casting one soft and one cold beam of moonlight through the high windows of the room.

Under the moonlight, a clear blue gem on the rusty diadem shone brilliantly.

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