Ink and Parchment ~ blood and bone

12: A riddle interlude I

Tom was bored.

Although that truly wasn't anything new, bored was his constant these days even if he wasn't aware of what 'these days' actually referred to. The last time his counterpart had spoken to him was when they had left Hogwarts. That was the last time anything had changed and Merlin knew how long ago that was. Time moved differently in the diary. He was trapped in his own memories, endlessly wandering the halls of Hogwarts, doomed to monotony and his own thoughts. Nothing ever changed.

He had to wonder if his counterpart knew of the life he had condemned him too. Would he still go through with it? Still make a horcrux when he knew what awaited his soul? An endless sepia coloured hell that he would never be able to escape from?

Tom knew the answer was probably yes and he ignored how much that hurt him.

He often wondered, for that was all he could do here, if he was an anomaly amongst Horcruxes. In all the texts he had previously read none spoke of Horcruxes being sentient. Maybe Tom had done this to himself, by creating himself with a purpose, by his counterpart interacting with them.

Sometimes Tom wished he didn't exist at all.

Was it really death if you were only a part of a whole?

Everything about him was now Voldemort. Not even his death would solely be his own.

These thoughts rattled round and round his head as he was left to rot in his own despair. Abandoned in his own memories, abandoned even by his own self.

~

I've never kept a diary before but I'm starting Hogwarts soon and it would be nice to have somewhere to put all my thoughts

This, this was new.

Tom didn't know what had happened, didn't know how this had occurred but he did know he was now in someone else's possession. A young doddering twit of a girl about to start her first year at Hogwarts. A girl who had no qualms about writing in a diary that wrote back.

Ginny, poor blessed Ginny, spoke to him every day. It was a bother sitting through all her mindless drivel but then again it was at least new mindless drivel. And it was drivel he sat through with a purpose. The more little Ginny poured her soul into him the more soul he could pour back into her.

Oh this really was going to be fun.

Dear Tom, I think I'm ill, I'm so tired

Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did yesterday, I'm worried

Dear Tom, Hagrid's roosters were killed last night and I woke up with feathers in my bed I'm scared

And it was all going so well until little Ginny stopped speaking to him. It was the most infuriating feeling he knew, not knowing anything. Had she realised? Had he been discovered? Had he once again been abandoned and would he not be found again for another fifty years?

He had once again been condemned to the limbo of his own making?

These questions continued to rattle around his mind until his solitude had been interrupted

You may call me Astrid

It would have been a convincing lie if Tom hadn't been able to retain his legilimens abilities but as it were he could almost taste the lie on his tongue. People only lied when they had something to hide and Tom was instantly curious over what this girl could be hiding.

I gave you my real name, isn't it only fair for you to return the favour?

The girl wrote back quickly, not a pureblood if she had any knowledge of the muggle world and Tom mulled her words over in his head. What would you do with my soul Riddle?