Chapter 100: The Stand In
Late at night.
Gryffindor Tower.
Unlike the cold, solemn Slytherin Dungeons, the Gryffindor common room remained warm and noisy even at this hour.
The fire in the hearth burned brightly, and several older students were still gathered in a corner, discussing Harry's flying car incident as if it were already some grand heroic feat.
In the girls' dormitory, Ginny curled up on her four poster bed and pulled the red curtains tightly shut.
Even with the curtains drawn, she could still hear the excited laughter outside.
It was noisy.
And lonely.
"If only Sister Tamara were here..."
Ginny hugged her pillow, her eyes reddening.
She had spent the entire day trying to find Tamara.
But Tamara was always surrounded by people. Those Slytherin students all looked terribly proud and intimidating, and Ginny did not dare approach them at all.
Besides, every time she tried to go over, Ron or Hermione would pull her into conversation, or Percy would appear to warn her not to wander off.
"We were sleeping in the same room just last night..."
Ginny sniffled. The sharp contrast made her feel as if something were pressing down on her chest.
She had so much she wanted to say.
She wanted to tell Tamara how nervous she had been during the Sorting. She wanted to complain about Fred and George's pranks. She wanted to ask what Tamara thought about Harry not being expelled.
But she could not find anyone to talk to.
In this unfamiliar castle, among people who were friendly yet did not understand her at all, Ginny felt like a lonely island.
As if drawn by some mysterious force, Ginny reached beneath her pillow.
There lay that shabby black diary.
It was the only thing she had now that belonged entirely to her own secret world.
Ginny lit the tip of her wand with a faint glow and opened the diary.
She picked up a quill, hesitated for a moment, then wrote a line.
"Dear Tom... I arrived at Hogwarts today, but I'm not happy at all."
The ink quickly sank into the paper and vanished.
A few seconds later, a line of elegant cursive writing surfaced.
[What's wrong, Ginny? Hogwarts should be a very interesting place. Is someone bullying you?]
Looking at that line, Ginny nearly burst into tears.
This feeling of being answered was so similar to the way Tamara had listened to her last night.
"No one is bullying me. It's just... I feel very lonely."
Ginny wrote quickly.
"I want to talk to Sister Tamara, but she's a Slytherin star, and there are always so many people around her. I'm just an ordinary Weasley, and a Gryffindor too... I feel like I can't get close to her anymore."
The diary was silent for a while.
Deep within the seal, the soul fragment of Tom Riddle was currently experiencing a rather absurd feeling.
Tamara again?
What sort of potion had that damned woman given this girl?
Last night at The Burrow, he had already lost his chance to manipulate Ginny because of that woman.
Now that they were at Hogwarts, this girl's first instinct was not to confide in him, but to miss that woman?
Indignation rose in him.
Sixteen year old Tom Riddle was actually being treated as a substitute.
But he quickly calmed down.
As a master at manipulating hearts, Tom understood that Ginny was currently a fanatical admirer of Tamara. If he spoke ill of Tamara now, Ginny would likely throw the diary straight into the fire.
He could not oppose her.
Then he would join her.
Since she wanted someone like Tamara, he would become that sort of person.
A line slowly appeared on the diary. Its tone became gentler, even carrying a certain older, wiser air.
[I understand that feeling, Ginny. Truly outstanding people are always dazzling, and always difficult to approach.]
[I also admire someone as powerful and popular as Tamara.]
Ginny froze for a moment.
"Really? You think she's amazing too?"
[Of course.]
Suppressing the disgust in his heart, Tom continued to write.
[She must be a very charming person to make you miss her so much. In fact, I was once a Slytherin prefect myself, and I also liked guiding promising juniors.]
[Since you cannot see her right now, why not treat me as your confidant?]
[You can tell me the things you do not dare say to her, or the things you want to say to her, first. I will listen to you just as she does, and perhaps... I can even teach you how to become as outstanding as she is, until you are qualified to stand beside her.]
Ginny looked at those lines, and her eyes slowly brightened.
Tom was willing to help her too.
And his way of speaking was so much like Tamara's.
It was almost like... a male version of Sister Tamara.
"Thank you, Tom! You're really too kind!"
Ginny wrote, deeply moved. Her mental defenses collapsed completely.
"Actually, a lot happened today. Harry and Ron came in a flying car..."
Watching the dense outpouring of words begin to appear across the pages again, Tom Riddle let out a silent breath of relief.
Good.
Although the subject was still that annoying Tamara and the even more annoying Potter, at least this vessel had returned to his control.
As long as she continued to write, continued to pour her emotions into the diary, her life force would keep flowing toward him.
Meanwhile, in the Slytherin Dungeons.
Tamara, lying in bed, suddenly felt a familiar ripple of magic.
It was the ripple of her own soul fragment.
But this ripple was not as violent and aggressive as she had feared.
On the contrary, it seemed somewhat... humble.
Tamara closed her eyes and carefully sensed the direction of that magic.
She could feel that the originally arrogant sixteen year old Tom Riddle was currently suppressing his pride and cautiously complying with the wishes of that little red haired girl.
To a certain extent, he was even imitating her current self.
Imitating oneself.
It sounded utterly ridiculous.
"If that arrogant past self is willing to become my current stand in and handle that annoying emotional rubbish, then it saves me quite a bit of effort."
A contemptuous, lazy smile curved at the corners of Tamara's mouth.
"Then play your role properly, Tom... until the day I take you back with interest."
She turned over.
In the cold darkness that made her feel utterly comfortable, Tamara fell into a deep sleep with a clear conscience.
.....
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