Time quickly passed to Friday. Defense Against the Dark Arts was held twice a week—once on Monday, and again on Friday.
At the moment, Sean was being scolded by Lockhart, because he still hadn't brought Lockhart's books to class.
"It seems necessary for you to understand the seriousness of this matter. Good grades do not give you the right to do as you please," Lockhart said.
"Detention tonight. You will copy my books."
"Yes, Professor," Sean replied helplessly.
After Lockhart returned to the front, Fred said with a grin, "I haven't even read his books, and you have to copy them. That's tragic."
"Make sure to tell us your thoughts after you're done," George added, twisting the knife.
"Sigh… I got careless. Didn't expect Lockhart to single me out," Sean muttered.
"Lockhart's that narcissistic. You're the only one in class who didn't buy his books—of course he's annoyed," Cassius said.
This was the second time Sean had been punished with copying. The first time had also been in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when he had teased Jovich and ended up in detention.
"Alright, everyone, open Magical Me to Chapter Eight," Lockhart announced, picking up his autobiography. Today's lesson was another one of his rambling stories.
"I've got you covered," Cassius said, flipping open the book and pushing it toward the center of the desk.
Sean didn't actually want to read it, but to avoid further trouble, he put on a show of studying.
George pulled Magical Me out from a stack of books, but then noticed an unfamiliar notebook.
"Is this mine?" he muttered.
Flipping it open, he saw a name written in the bottom corner of the back page: Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Sean had slipped the notebook into George's pile three days ago, but George hadn't noticed it until now.
"Fred, do you know anyone named Tom Marvolo Riddle?" George whispered.
Fred thought for a moment. "No. Why?"
"There's this notebook mixed in with my stuff. It's got his name on it."
George flipped through it and found it completely blank. Not a single page had been written on. He picked up his quill and doodled a cartoon pig on the page.
For the prank-loving twins, this kind of thing was second nature. George admired his drawing—it was actually pretty cute.
Still not satisfied, he prepared to draw more, but just as his quill touched the page again, the pig began to fade, as if someone were erasing it.
Once the drawing completely disappeared, a word appeared on the page, starting with an "H."
"Hello."
George muttered under his breath a word starting with an "S." "Shit."
"What the hell? This notebook writes by itself?"
He quickly drew another pig. A second later, it vanished again, replaced by the same "hello."
"This is weird. Someone messing with me?" George nudged Fred with his elbow, eager to show him.
As masters of mischief, they welcomed any challenge thrown their way.
"Fred, check this out."
"What is it?"
Fred leaned over just as George drew another pig. It vanished before their eyes, replaced once again by "hello."
"Interesting. Your new prank device? Invisible ink?" Fred's curiosity was instantly piqued.
"But how does it reply automatically?"
George shook his head. "Not invisible ink. Look."
He grabbed Fred's quill and wrote "hello" in the notebook.
A reply appeared instantly: "Hello, my name is Tom Riddle."
"Impressive," Fred said, genuinely impressed.
He had no idea what—or who—he was praising. If he did, he would definitely regret it.
Sean had already noticed the twins' actions. He had been worried they might not open the notebook all term—he had seen plenty of classmates in his previous life who never even opened their textbooks until finals.
"Quick, write something else. Let's see how it responds," Fred urged.
"Hello, Tom. Are you a student at Hogwarts?" George wrote.
"Yes," the notebook replied.
The twins exchanged glances. So he really was a Hogwarts student—but they had never heard the name before.
They quickly became engrossed, chatting with Tom Riddle through the notebook. It was far too fascinating.
Sean wasn't sure how long it would take for the notebook's negative influence and mental manipulation to affect George. In the original timeline, Ginny first released the basilisk on November 1st—Halloween night.
That was also the night of Nearly Headless Nick's 500th Deathday Party. On the way back, Harry heard the basilisk's voice and found Mrs. Norris petrified.
"Based on Ginny's timeline, if George gets controlled, it'll probably be around late October," Sean thought.
The twins were completely hooked. They even set aside their beloved prank inventions, like teenagers addicted to the internet, spending all their time writing in the notebook.
In the blink of an eye, it was the second weekend of September. Early in the morning, Sean was dragged out of bed by Cassius and hauled to the Quidditch pitch.
Today was Draco's official induction into the team, and he had brought the Nimbus 2001s. The entire team was going to test the new brooms, and Cassius was beyond excited.
"Hurry up, you two!" Cassius urged Sean and Chris. He couldn't wait to show them the moment he mounted the Nimbus 2001.
As the three of them crossed the courtyard, they saw the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams facing off.
Slytherin captain Marcus Flint handed a scroll to Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood.
"Take a look. The pitch is ours today—Professor Snape approved it," Flint said smugly.
Wood unrolled the parchment and read aloud, "I, Professor Severus Snape, hereby grant the Slytherin team permission to train today, including their new Seeker."
"New Seeker? Who?" Wood demanded.
"Draco," Flint called out.
Draco stepped forward from behind Flint and Graham, deliberately switching his broom from his right hand to his left so everyone could see it clearly.
"Malfoy?" Harry frowned.
"That's right. I'm Slytherin's new Seeker—and these are our new toys."
The Slytherin players proudly displayed their Nimbus 2001s. Ron and Hermione, who had been sitting nearby, walked over. Ron's eyes widened immediately.
"Latest model Nimbus 2001—and there are seven of them!" he exclaimed.
At that moment, Sean and his group arrived behind the Slytherin team. Cassius exchanged a look with Graham, who handed him an extra broom.
Sean thought, "Here comes the classic scene."
In the original story, Draco would insult Hermione, Ron would try to curse him, but his broken wand would backfire.
Sure enough, Draco smirked at Ron's reaction. "What should I say? You look like you've never seen anything like this before. Pretty embarrassing for a pure-blood family, Weasley."
Hermione cut in, "At least Gryffindor players are chosen for skill. Not like some people who buy their way in."
Draco, already prejudiced against Muggle-borns due to his upbringing, bristled at her words.
"And who asked for your opinion?" he snapped.
He was just about to spit out the slur "Mudblood," when his eyes caught Sean nearby. The word died in his throat.
"Why don't we settle this on the pitch?" Draco changed tack.
Back in first-year flying lessons, Harry had been the first to take off, Draco the second. Among second-years, Draco's Quidditch skill was solid.
With both talent and financial backing, it was no surprise his confidence had swelled. The older teammates flattered him constantly, and Hermione's jab clearly hit a nerve.
"He actually held back from insulting Hermione," Sean noted with a nod.
This time, Ron's wand wasn't broken. If he fired off a Slug-Vomiting Charm now, Draco would be the one in trouble.
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