An Unattended loss.
The realization came on a Wednesday evening, halfway through a Potions essay Harry had been working on in the Slytherin common room. He reached into his bag for the diary, intending to jot down a stray thought, and paused.
It wasn’t there.
Harry blinked and rummaged through his belongings again, methodically checking each pocket and compartment of his bag. He stood and searched his dormitory next, rifling through his trunk and checking under his bed. Nothing.
The diary was gone.
For a moment, Harry simply stood there, his mind calm and quiet. He hadn’t written in it much over the past few weeks, too preoccupied with his classes and a growing curiosity about the Forbidden Forest. It wasn’t a particularly useful item—Tom Riddle’s company had been mildly interesting, but hardly essential.
With a shrug, Harry dismissed it entirely and returned to his essay.
The next morning, the absence of the diary was already forgotten. Harry went about his routine, moving through classes with his usual detached efficiency. In the back of his mind, there was a faint curiosity about who might have taken it, but it didn’t bother him enough to pursue the matter.
After all, if someone wanted a blank diary with a pushy personality inside, they were welcome to it.
Unbeknownst to Harry, the stolen diary had found its way into the hands of a curious thief. Somewhere deep within the castle, Tom Riddle's ink began to stir again.
"Where are you, Harry ?"
But no answer came.
Instead, a new hand—sloppy and unpracticed—scribbled an uncertain message across the page.
"Who are you?"
Tom Riddle frowned, metaphorically speaking, as he absorbed the words. This wasn’t Harry. This was someone new.
And for the first time in decades, Tom Riddle smiled.