Can HP Diary Help Me Pass NEWTs?

-31-

I go into the room.

"Pauline, there's cheese tart at 04:30, don't forget to come down and try—"

Downstairs, Mrs Weasley's penetrating voice came from afar.

She is always so loving and enthusiastic, afraid that any child will not get enough care, and tries her best to give us extra meals.Obviously, the hour hand has just passed one hour, and the afternoon tea at 04:30 has already been considered.

"I see, Aunt Mollie."

I responded loudly, then gently closed the door, locked it, and added five or six expulsion and protection spells to the door to ensure that no troublemaker would suddenly break in or spy at the door.

After finishing all this in one go, I turned my head, and Riddle was sitting on the head of my bed, looking at me quietly.

He also had a copy of "Funny and Weird Transfiguration Encyclopedia"--a source of pleasure for me to pass the time in my spare time--I didn't expect him to pick it up and read it, and it seemed that he was really bored.

I really don't know how he spent decades in the diary.

"It seems that I should be relieved that you finally have the energy to pay attention to me." Riddle raised the corners of his lips in a vague way, and said lazily to me, "It's really an honor."

He opened his hand slightly to me in a haughty gesture, beckoning me to step forward and throw myself into his arms.

I did take a few steps towards him, which added a little satisfaction to his expression.

Arrogant satisfaction.

But just before I got close to him, I turned around, bypassed his outstretched hand, sat in front of the bay window opposite him, kicked off my sandals, sat cross-legged on the laid cushion, and pushed my hands back, He looked at him expressionlessly.

The soft skirt ruffles down my thighs, covering a lot and revealing a lot—I don't know what Riddle is thinking, but most of the time, it doesn't make a difference if I do something like that. Meaning, I'm just happy.

But sometimes, I admit, I just want to see his weird but restrained expression.

—Of course, sometimes he's less restrained, and that's fine.

Riddle's hand froze in mid-air for a while, then quickly retracted it as if nothing had happened, and looked at me with that slightly annoyed but helpless look, "Bad girl." He was like a stern professor criticizing a naughty girl. The student, like a helpless lover, complains half-truthfully, neither serious nor serious, ambiguous and alienated.

He stared straight at me, aggressively.

It is even difficult for you to distinguish whether this is the gaze of a hunter looking at his prey, or the gaze of a lover looking at his lover.

Or, maybe both.

Either way, my vanity was greatly gratified—so Riddle and I were the opposite, he got satisfaction from my occasional condescension, and I On the other hand, they are often pleased by his pervasive cruelty, cruelty and rebellion.

No matter how you look at it, I make more money.

I smiled at him, waved lazily, and beckoned him to come to me bossily.

Riddle was obviously very uncomfortable with my call - he seemed to be born this way, only allowing himself to dominate others, but never allowing others to dominate him, so proud that he was boundless.

But he frowned, reluctantly, got up condescendingly, and walked over slowly.

He stretched out his hand, squeezed my chin gently, like an arrogant gift, lowered his head, and kissed me forcefully.

I raised my head, stretched out my arms to hug him, and wanted to get up, but his other hand was embedded in my waist, not allowing me to move, only allowing me to be tamed passively and restrained by him.

I do not like this.

I gave Riddle a gentle tug on his tie, and he leaned forward, his knees resting on the cushions, trapping me in the middle.

His breathing became rapid, and he looked at me undisguisedly, desire spreading under his dark and deep pupils.

But what I have to do today cannot allow the atmosphere to fast-forward to the tenderness and conquest that can only accommodate breathing.

not now.

"Tom," I heard myself say in a serious tone, "I think there is a very serious matter between us that has not been clarified. Please answer me seriously."

Merlin, I'm such a chanting nun—I can't stop laughing.

Riddle's expression really paused.

He frowned and waited for me to continue.

I stared at him for a long time until his patience ran out and he looked at me impatiently.

Finally, I opened my mouth, blocking the urging on his lips, with only one simple word.

"Agatha," I said softly.

Riddle's expression hardly changed, he just raised his eyebrows impatiently, "Agatha? That's your roommate? What does this have to do with me?"

"Still," he draws out his tone, sizing me up with lurking venomous eyes, "what do you think this has to do with me?"

I don't see if he's faking it or if it really has nothing to do with it.

"What does it have to do with you?" I repeated, I was too familiar with him, and he was too familiar with me, which made the lie complicated and confusing, and made the deception only depend on whether you believed it or not.

I chuckled softly, "What do you think? Tom, I can't think of any other possibility besides you."

"So you suspect what I did to your roommate." Riddle suddenly stood up straight, condescending, and looked at me coldly. If I can still be sure that there is nothing wrong with my eyes, maybe I will even say, The betrayal and humiliation hung on his face.

How funny, he thinks I betrayed him.

He was deeply offended when I questioned him, teased him a little, or ignored him, whether or not I was acting rationally.

Because in his heart, he should of course be an exception to anyone and everything.

It's a pity that no mortal can satisfy all his requirements. Even if you offer him the whole world, he will only take it for granted as ordinary, and even think you give too little. Sometimes I really feel sorry for those who follow him The Death Eater, even if you squatted in Azkaban for ten years for him, he probably wouldn't treat you differently.

He is full of desires and never satisfied, so the humiliation follows him throughout his life.

I was hardly surprised that he would find my doubts a form of humiliation, offense, and betrayal.

But I know it's him—even without any proof, even if he doesn't admit it, I probably know him better than he does himself.

I can feel it.

Riddle said softly, "Let me take the liberty to ask, what is it that makes you show tenderness to a person who you have not given basic trust and respect to, and at the same time ruthlessly speculate about his every move?" A word or deed?" Scarlet light flickered coldly in his eyes.

He sneered sharply and meanly.

"If this confuses you, then I think it's time you take a look at yourself."

I heard my voice as soft as a nightingale singing, too soft, too soft, calm, but full of mockery, "Tom, I think you've never been taught that you never know one thing about Survival in human society is very important—whenever you feel humiliated, you probably never think about whether you deserve the trust and respect of others."

Riddle's expression twisted for a moment.

"So," he returned me with a sharper mocking sneer, and looked at me viciously, his terrifying scarlet eyes gleaming coldly, "Miss Omniscient seems to want to teach me how to survive in human society, teach me How can I, Voldemort, gain the trust and respect of others."

Riddle sneered, "All I can say is, this really makes people laugh out loud."

A tense silence spread between us.

I gazed at him with an elusive gaze.

I have to admit that this time I really couldn't draw an accurate conclusion from his reaction, I couldn't produce evidence, and I couldn't support my conjecture.He was so cunning and so arrogant that he took the slightest distrust of him as an offense—and while I had long since realized what kind of man Riddle was, it was still a novelty to me at the moment.

I don't know whether he believes it or not, or maybe other people can't understand it, but I am really fascinated by his arrogance, cunning, coldness, and even his overly sensitive sense of humiliation.

The more dangerous things are sometimes the more moving, and the more unpredictable things often make me more curious.

In fact, I don't have to ask for a definite answer. I don't care about the established facts of the past.

What I want is to eliminate this possibility forever.

"Tom," I softened my expression and sighed softly, "Why does it always turn into a quarrel inexplicably every time we want to talk?"

Riddle looked at me blankly.

"Miss Omniscient may have to ask herself," he said mockingly, sneering, "after all my answer means nothing to you."

I stared quietly at his handsome and cold face, slowly got up, stretched out my hand wearily, and wrapped it loosely around his neck, and quietly buried my head in the hollow of his neck under his empty and indifferent gaze, Complaining softly like a baby, "You know, you are really too proud."

Riddle didn't respond, and I could feel his terrifying gaze still resting on me.

I lightly rubbed my cheek against the side of his neck, and said half-truthfully, "Sometimes I really hate you for being like this, everything that gets close to you will be burned until it is destroyed." But I paused, and lightly He chuckled lightly, put his cheek on his collarbone, and said in a low voice, "But it's also... so fascinating."

Riddle was silent for a long time.

His hand hanging by his side finally moved, and it landed on my waist, hugging me gently, and the other hand landed on the back of my head, slowly stroking along my drooping hair .

"Pauline," he called my name coldly, his voice as soft as a viper's neighing, "sometimes I really don't know what you're thinking."

I tilt my head slightly.

Riddle's profile was right in front of me, so close that I could kiss him on the cheek as long as I raised my head slightly.

His expression was a little more relaxed than before, and he stared at me with dark eyes, "Do you really care about nothing?"

I froze for a moment.

"Power, connections, strength, wealth," he counted them one by one in a cold and contemptuous tone, "We are so similar, powerful talents, extraordinary abilities, the world should be conquered by people like us, but you are so contemptuous Treat yourself with care, you can get anything easily, but you just don't do it."

He repeated subtly, "But you just don't."

Riddle was staring at me almost intently, waiting for my reaction.

He looked almost sullen, as if he was trying to hold on to something but couldn't hold on to it, and he said slowly, "Pauline, tell me why, what on earth are you thinking? Impossible, no one will say anything." None, unless he's a dead man. Don't tell me you really don't care about anything."

I looked at him almost in bewilderment.

"What do I want?" I repeated subtly, annoyed and triumphant, it's hard to say why, maybe I want him to know me, but I also enjoy watching him try to find it and know nothing, " Tom, I thought that with your cleverness, you should have known what I wanted."

I leaned my head against his neck and said lazily, "All I want is knowledge, don't you really understand?"

In an intolerable but restrained tone, Riddle said rather annoyed, "...knowledge, knowledge? You acquire knowledge so easily, you can use it to achieve anything you want, and you want nothing? Only knowledge Pauline, don't tell me it's true?"

Unfortunately, this is true.

"Tom, is what I'm telling the truth? I think you've learned enough about me in the past six months to support you to judge whether I'm honest or not at this moment." "I'm a Ravenclaw, you already knew that."

"I've known for a long time..." He repeated softly, even as if he was empty of loss, but he spoke again after a while, his tone became cold again, "Of course I knew a long time ago, I just don't believe that there is no real truth in this world. There will be people like you..."

He was almost gnashing his teeth, but it seemed that a thousand words came to his mouth, and he could only put them down lightly in the end.

I gazed at him, and he gazed at me with his scarlet, empty eyes.

"Do you think you are the wind?" He sneered coldly.

There is no beginning and no end, it doesn't seem like something he can say.

But it was as if there was a gust of wind blowing away all my confusion and puzzlement, and the answer that seemed to be covered with mottled yellow sand suddenly became extremely clear, as long as I stretched out my hand, I could grasp it in my hand——

Tom Marvolo Riddle has a crush on me.

He regards me as the same kind, he agrees with me, he is obsessed with me, and he can't stop paying attention to me.Just as he was drawn to me, he could not escape my attraction to him.

He couldn't bear my snort at Voldemort, didn't like my choice to run counter to him, and hated all my behaviors that didn't agree with him, not only because of his excessive desire for control and power, but also for me.

He compared me to style.

A wind that can only be experienced but cannot be held.

"So..." I raised my head, stared at him, my lips trembled slightly, but I didn't say anything.

Riddle hates anyone who knows too much about him, and even more repulses anyone who has mastered his psychology.

He probably hates words like liking, love, and infatuation even more, because this is something he will never be able to grasp.

I wouldn't be surprised if he saw his feelings for me as "a normal impulse of a man with normal physiology and desires" and "a natural annoyance of being human."

This makes people not surprised by his excessive sense of humiliation.

In my presence, he could neither control me nor fully control himself.

Of course he would be humiliated.

Feeling powerless and powerless would humiliate him and make him want to get rid of me, rob me, and even destroy me.

Riddle is such a person, with plunder in his nature, plundering everything he wants and doesn't want, and if he can't get it, he will destroy it.

It is very, very difficult for anyone to keep him, either run away from him and be destroyed, or stay by his side and be destroyed.

I decided never to tell him those words.

"So," I said softly, skipping the subject to what I really wanted to mention, "is that why you made yourself a Horcrux?"

Riddle's hand around my waist suddenly became very strong.

He looked at me blankly.

"When did you know?" he said softly.

"Four months ago."

"Four months ago." He repeated softly.

I stared at him and stretched out my hand to play with his hair, but he grabbed it and held it tightly, as if he wanted to crush me and melt into my own flesh and blood.

"Ha, that's great," Riddle seemed to be irritated, his eyes seemed to be burning red, he looked at me viciously, but squeezed out a smile - it was that kind of sneering sneer again, full of coldness and malice, Extremely mocking, more terrifying than rage, "Know my secret for a long time, but pretend to know nothing, pretend to be infatuated with me, get intimate with me, and humiliate me. Watch me being played by you You must be very proud of yourself."

"It's amazing," his voice was extremely cold, as light as the wind blowing through the tip of a knife, "it's really amazing."

"Then, can the great Miss Sweet tell me," he said with a blank expression, "what extraordinary rewards are there that are worth your troubles to fool a remnant soul that cannot escape your grasp?"

I watched him silently.

If it was before today, maybe I would have made up an excuse and enjoyed his humiliation, but he didn't know my crush on him.I'm really not a qualified girlfriend, nor a considerate and pleasing lover. Sincerity is mixed with lies, and lies are wrapped with sincerity. I play this kind of fun.

but……

"I don't know," I said softly, "If it had been before today, maybe I would have told you that I wanted to prostitute your academic experience and achievements for nothing."

Riddle sneered contemptuously.

"But now I've changed my mind," I said, deaf to myself, "I'm not sure, but I think maybe it's because I'm infatuated with you. Even, maybe for some people, it even counts as In love."

——Of course, the second half of the sentence is only for those who do not have high requirements for love.

Definitely not before today, but today, after this conversation, at least in my definition, this is the most I can give.

Fascination, passion, desire to explore, plans for the future, and most importantly...

A little candor.

Since he was humiliated by my playfulness and uncertainty, perhaps trying to make him think that he could hold me to a certain extent was the only way to get along with him for a long time.

To a certain extent.

The attraction and fascination he feels in me, his curiosity and exploration of me will make him feel out of control, and out of control will humiliate him.When humiliation gradually breeds, one day it will drown him, swallow him, keep him away from me, try to destroy me, hate me.

Unless... let him feel that he has grasped my psychology to a certain extent.

Give him a sense of control, give him a sense of security, satisfy part of his desire for control and power, so that he can safely let himself enjoy the same fascination and attraction as me.

But I can't let him feel that he has completely grasped my psychology.

Tom Marvolo Riddle is the number one jerk, he enjoys everything he conquers with a clear conscience, never grateful, only unsatisfied.Even if you offer your whole world, he will only think that you have too little, but if you have the slightest bit of a person's most basic reservations, he will feel furious and humiliated.

Those whom he conquers are unattractive to him.

If I want to keep him all the time, and nothing like Agatha will happen, I must be honest, but I must also keep it, give him part of the initiative, and let him think that as long as he continues, he will have a chance to conquer you and plunder you. Something he wants, but actually never can.

——As it happens, this is not difficult for me.

I just need to be honest with my true thoughts to fully meet this condition.

And the most essential difference between me and Riddle may be that I am never afraid of being honest, let alone being understood.

My very existence is my fullest sense of security.

Riddle stared at me, almost sneering in a mixture of horror and contempt, "If you call that 'love'—"

"I know, I know," I interrupted impatiently, "I'm not a follower of Dumbledore either, I never said that stupid thing like 'love is stronger than any magic', and I sincerely hope you I can understand that not everyone's love is as indestructible and pure as Dumbledore described."

He was eerily silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I'm not sure, I've never encountered such a thing," I looked at him with scrutiny, "but I'm sure, even if it's really love, it's not a good thing for you. Presumably you I also understand what kind of person I am, and my care and attention is a kind of misfortune to most people."

"I will still mock you, lie to you, fool you and even hurt you, my love is never close and unreserved," I said dryly, "but it is love, I care about you, not humiliation."

"It sounds like your love is more hateful than humiliation." Riddle sneered.

But what was strange was that his expression was calmer than before.

"You're right." I admitted, "A haughty and powerful bastard certainly can't give you any noble love."

He stopped talking, pursed his lips, and looked at me quietly, as if waiting for me to reveal something.

But I'm not going to dwell on this topic anymore, I'm not Riddle, but I'm not Dumbledore either.

"When you made the horcrux, did you ever think about what would happen if the horcrux became stronger while the main soul was still there?" I asked him politely, "You guys will discuss how to deal with it in a few years. Will there be a rotation of the Dark Lord?"

He scowled at me.

I laughed lazily, "Tom, would you bow your head to another self?" I let go of my arms around his neck, leaned back, sat on the soft cushion of the bay window sill, and took the paint I just painted. The toes covered with bright red nail polish lightly hooked his calf.

He lowered his head and looked straight at me, with fire in his eyes.

"Each horcrux has a different experience after being made, and they won't be connected. Do you really think you are still the same person?" I played with my hair lazily, without waiting for his answer, and tried my best to mock, "It's amazing. Mr. Del, do you feel that there are not enough opponents, which makes your life that should be a legend less dazzling, so you have to split your soul and create a sense of fate like a natural enemy—Merlin, you really should learn Gilderoy Lockhart writes novels, if you're in the bestseller business, what other writers are there?"

Riddle stared at me with terrifying eyes.

He squeezed my wrist in retaliation.

"Of course, there is another possibility, but I'm not so sure." I twitched twice, but failed to retract my hand, so I ignored it and let him hold it tightly.

I looked at him arrogantly, "Maybe I guessed wrong at the beginning, you don't really hate Dumbledore, but more like a little boy who doesn't get trust and attention, longing for some appreciation from the professor you admire, what a pity In any case, you can’t get what you want, you can only grow hatred under this distorted worship, and behave as if you hate and disdain—otherwise, I really can’t explain why you have to compete with Professor Dumbledore, just like he has Grindel Just like Wo, you have to make yourself a few old enemies who love and kill each other."

Riddle almost crushed me with his eyes.

A violent scarlet flashed in his eyes.

I smiled lazily, and accepted it as soon as it was good.

"Taking a step back, maybe you still feel that you are the same person—" I said softly, "but you are so proud, can you really accept that there are six identical you in the world?"

"It sounds like you have some high opinion." Riddle said icily, sounding quite gritted.

"I just think that since what you want to pursue is eternal life, the Horcrux may not be the only way. What's more, as this piece of soul, you can't really live forever." I finally laughed. The secret of eternal life hidden in countless knowledge, why don't you choose a Ravenclaw? Who else has more advantages than me? Who else has this ability than me?"

"Sounds like that," he glared at me oddly, "sounds like a good idea."

He paused, "But that I have power and strength, what can I have if I follow you?"

"Excuse me?" I laughed, "Are you going to call Azkaban your power, or those who are trying to claim in court that they were bewitched by your sorcery? Sounds pretty grand. I'm curious , if you and the main soul appear at the same time, whose robe will they kiss and call the Dark Lord?"

He glared at me sullenly.

"You can have me." I looked at him arrogantly, "I think this sentence is enough for me to show my advantage."

"Own you?" He chewed the word.

"If one day we enter Azkaban, I will also study the art of immortality with you in it." I joked, "Maybe you will be moved by this?"

Riddle still looked at me blankly.

I smiled slightly.

"If you really believe in my choice," he finally said under my long gaze, cold, mocking and arrogant, "then I choose to believe in you, after all, I have no choice, don't I?"

I stared at him for a while.

"Then," I said softly, and leaned closer to him slowly, the soft breath blew on his cold skin, and then warmed my cheeks, making my cheeks and his cheeks a little blush , "I also choose to believe in you."

Riddle's eyes were as dark as the quiet night.

He looked at me unabashedly and directly.

I looked at him with great interest, and stretched out my hand as if playing, but before I touched it, the glass window behind me suddenly rang.

A snowy owl was looking at us curiously through the glass window with a letter in its mouth.

Riddle and I paused at the same time.

He was as dark as the bottom of Aunt Molly's oven tray, and he stared fiercely at me as I opened the envelope.

"I think the great Miss Pauline will not lock the person who is intimate with her back in the diary as she did last time, and pretend that nothing happened?"

I had opened the envelope and the NEWTs' transcripts fell out.

"It's nothing new." The corners of my lips curled up slightly, and I complained hypocritically, "12 O's, as expected, really boring."

I looked up and Riddle glared at me viciously.

I laughed, threw away the envelope, and put my arms around his shoulders.

Riddle hugged my waist tightly, and kissed my lips tenderly and without hesitation.

A raging fire gave me madness, cruelty, and destruction.

The big clock in the living room downstairs rang four times, and while breathing chaotically, I kissed his earlobe vaguely, and said softly, "Tom, you seem to have always been a winner."

His pleasant chuckle blew deep in my ear.

"but……"

I smiled vaguely, lowered my head, and buried myself on his shoulder wearily and lazily, leaving the last sentence to myself.

but--

This time, I am the winner.

And over the distant Atlantic Ocean, an unknown owl is delivering a letter whose contents only the sender himself knows.

TO Agatha

[See the letter.The Gringotts recruitment information is attached with the letter, please pay attention to the review time and requirements, and hope to arrive with the NEWTs transcript.

In addition, I have been very worried about your physical condition, promise me, if one day you are willing to confide, please be sure to ask Professor Dumbledore, if anyone is worthy of the last trust of a Ravenclaw, I think he is the only one Candidates.

Love you, Pauline. 】

The recipient would receive it two days later, but she would have thought nothing of it at the time.

Until a long, long time later, when the Dark Lord came back again, when she thought of this letter in panic and anxiety.

She will pick it up again, follow its guidance, and take Ravenclaw's most solemn trust to find the forever reliable old man.

This may also be the only time I insure myself on my long and crazy journey of seeking knowledge.

【End of text】

The author has something to say:

It's over! !

First of all, it is customary to pay for it, bookmark my column, bookmark it! !

It’s not normal to ask for writing without V, right?

Then there are answers to some possible questions:

1. What happened to Agatha?

Riddle felt that he could not control Pauline. In her hands, the diary would probably be a bully point reader for the rest of his life. In addition, Pauline's jerk attitude made him feel very humiliated, so he actively tried to save himself (?).

After being discovered by Pauline, he stopped in time, and the traces were handled very cleanly. In the end, Pauline couldn't say with certainty that he did it.

Pauline knew this, so she didn't pursue it. She was only responsible for ensuring that this kind of thing would not happen again next time.

2. How long is the episode and will there be exhaust gas?Will you still write hp in the future?

There may be about 10 chapters in the extra episode, and there is no exhaust, because Lujiang does not allow it, so I didn't point this skill point.

I will definitely write about HP in the future, but it will be the second half of next year, and I will go to have a meal next time, so it is recommended to bookmark my column, and you will know if you open HP! !

Must go to collection ah woo woo woo