Brooklyn and the Boy Who Lived

Howler and a Diary that Writes Back

The next day, Brooklyn noticed Harry being down in the dumps as they all sat down at the tables in the Great Hall, some people looking and whispering at them.

Brooklyn and Harry ended up meeting an excitable first year. Colin Creevey, who always carried around a Muggle camera and taking photos, plus he talked nonstop. But Brooklyn figured that was the way with Colin. At least he didn't run away at first sight of him, which cheered the gargoyle up some.

Things spiraled downhill even more as Brooklyn spotted a familiar gray owl fly in, carrying a bright red envelope. He flopped onto the table, right into the milk jug.

Ron grimaced. "Bloody bird's a menace!" He cried out, taking the envelope. And in just two seconds, the color in his face drained and his face fell.

"What's wrong? Brooklyn asked in concern.

"She-she sent me a howler," Ron croaked, hands shaking.

The gargoyle was confused. What on earth was a howler?

He got his answer as Ron opened it and had to cover his ears as Mrs. Weasley's yells, ten times louder than usual, echoed through the room.

"HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED! AND I THOUGHT I COULD HAVE MORE FAITH IN BROOKLYN FOR STOPPING YOU TWO FROM BEING SEEN!"

Brooklyn flushed red with shame. He wondered when his name would come. Not wanting to hear the rest, he stood up and made his way back to the common room, his heart ridden with guilt, not seeing Harry and Hermione's worried faces, and trying to comfort him, but he didn't want to stay there, with everybody watching. Flint was leering at his retreating form as he continued to walk out.

"Not so popular with the weasels anymore, huh Freak Job?"

Brooklyn's heart burned with cold anger at the Slytherin captain for insulting them but didn't respond. At last, he made it to the comforts of his room, sitting on the floor near his cot, staring blankly at the floor and wrapping his wings around himself again.

He sat there for a time, just thinking. He never felt more ashamed, letting down the one human family that had welcomed him into their home as one of them. And now he didn't know if he could ever face Mrs. Weasley again after his mess up with that flying car, probably now running wild in the Forbidden Forest.

Brooklyn suddenly remembered the strange little diary he found in Flourish and Blotts. Deciding it was better than sulking, he pulled it out from under his pillow. Staring at the name, Tom Riddle, he now wondered if this kid had ever let down anybody he loved, too.

Well, it's now or never, Brooklyn thought to himself, giving into his curiosity, hoping it will help him feel better as he readied himself, and opened the book.

It was blank.

Disappointment welled up. He didn't even write in it? Brooklyn flipped through the pages, hoping there was something, but nothing.

Guess this kid was probably some rich schmuck who bought a book and couldn't be bothered to fill it in, he thought to himself. Oh well, maybe he can write something funny to cheer himself up.

Pulling out a quill and ink, he began to write a joke, a blank expression on his face.

Knock Knock.

As he was about to continue, he was startled as his words disappeared and replaced with handwriting that wasn't his own.

Who's there?