Chapter Thirty-Six

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"Don't hit me!" Harry covers his head as I lunge at him. 

"Don't hit you? Harry I'm going to kill you!" I hiss at him pulling on his ear. He winces. "I told you that diary was bad news and you didn't listen to me! Who knows where we are!"

He moves out of my grasp and rubs his ear. "Bella, take a look around will yah?"

I glare at him and do what he says. I knew immediately where we were. This circular room with the sleeping portraits was Dumbledore's office - but it wasn't Dumbledore sitting behind the desk. A wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, was reading a letter by candlelight. I had never seen this man before. 

"Oh, great. We're in the Headmasters office. Perfect!" I grumble looking around. 

"I'm sorry," Harry said shakily to the man, "we didn't mean to butt in..."

"Yeah this doofus brought us here and I have no idea how to get back..." I point to Harry, my eyes shooting daggers at him. He gulps. 

But the wizard didn't look up. He continued to read, frowning slightly. Harry drew nearer to his desk whilst I stayed behind. 

"Er - we'll just go, shall we?" He stammered. 

Still the wizard ignored him. He didn't even seem to have heard us. 

"Maybe he's deaf?" I suggested. "He looks old enough to be..."

Harry raised his voice. "Sorry we disturbed you, we'll go now"

The wizard folded up the letter with a sigh, stood up, walked past Harry without glancing t him and went to draw the curtains at his window. The sky outside the window as ruby red; it seemed to be sunset. The wizard went back to his desk, sat down and twiddled his thumbs, watching the door. 

I looked around the office. No Fawkes the Phoenix; no whirring silver contraptions. This was Hogwarts as Riddle had known it, meaning that this unknown wizard was the Headmaster like I said, and me and Harry were little more than a phantom, completely invisible to the people of fifty years ago.

"This is so cool," I whispered. "Imagine what we can do"

Harry looks at me. "Bella, don't"

"What?" I ask innocently, whilst smirking. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the office door.

"Enter," said the old wizard in a feeble voice. 

A boy of about sixteen entered, taking off his pointed hat. A silver Prefect's badge was glinting on his chest. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair. 

"Ah, Riddle," The Headmaster said. Ah! So this is Riddle! Damn...he's not bad looking...

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" Riddle asked. He looked nervous. 

"Sit down," Dippet told him. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me"

"Oh," Riddle answered. He sat down, gripping his hands together very tightly.

"My dear boy," Dippet said kindly. "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go him for the holidays?"

"No," Riddle answered at once. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that - to that-"

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" Dippet asked curiously. 

"Yes, sir," Riddle said, reddening slightly.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir," Riddle told him. "Muggle father, witch mother"

"And are both your parents-?"

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