"So it's true," McGonagall whispered, looking aghast. The Professor had already known that, of course, but there was something different about truly seeing it in front of you, as Blake knew too well.
The other reactions across the room varied. Ginny looked as white as a ghost, while Ron clenched his teeth and Harry and Snape looked at the diary eagerly. Blake decided to continue writing.
I'm sure you are, Riddle, and I'm Salazar Slytherin himself.
Sarcasm's always a good way to throw off suspicion, Blake thought as Riddle wrote back.
I can see why that's hard to believe, Daphne. But I can prove it. I can tell you that I was the one that made the monster in the Chamber kill Myrtle Warren the last time it was opened. I can tell you that the monster is a Basilisk, which is why petrifications and deaths occur alike. I can tell you that I also framed Hagrid, that foolish halfbreed, for opening the Chamber too. How would I know what I know if I wasn't?
Someone might've told you all of that, Riddle. You clearly have a memory - someone before me could've told you all of that. Besides, if you were the Heir, why would you tell me?
Blake grinned as Riddle wrote back. Lord Voldemort was falling into his trap.
Because you're clearly intelligent, Daphne. You're from a House of noble standing, and you have the wits about you to do what must be done. That is why I want - no, I need your help.
With what?
Tell me, Daphne. What do you think of Lord Voldemort?
"He's about to confess…" Ron breathed.
The Dark Lord was an immensely powerful wizard - some say he was the most powerful wizard of the age.
Exactly. Yet how is it that a baby like Harry Potter was able to defeat him, and escape with nothing but a scar?
My father says it was luck.
Your father is a wise man, Daphne. And it's true. Lord Voldemort cannot be defeated - least of all by a weak little baby.
How do you know about the Dark Lord? He was before your time, was he not?
Riddle seemed to hesitate for just a fraction of a second before replying.
No, Daphne. Lord Voldemort is my past, present and future.
What do you mean?
Let me show you.
The words, 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' displayed themselves on the page, and everyone in the room looked confused for a moment - but then the letters began to shift around and move, and Blake understood at once what was going on.
I am Lord Voldemort.
McGonagall and Ginny gasped out loud before Ginny started to cry again, as Ron held her tightly.
"So… it's true," Snape said softly. Blake continued writing however, undeterred.
You're saying you are the Dark Lord? That's impossible.
Nothing is impossible for me, Daphne. But as of right now, your assistance would be greatly appreciated - I will not forget it when I rise again.
But how? What are the chances of the coincidence of you being the Heir of Slytherin, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and the Dark Lord all at the same time?
But you're speaking to me, Daphne. How many other wizards do you know that survived a rebounded Killing Curse? How many other wizards do you know that embedded their consciousness into a diary? How many other wizards do you know that would be more suited to being the Heir of Slytherin?
Blake feigned hesitation again, longer this time.
How? How will you rise again? They said you died on the night you attacked the Potters!
Lord Voldemort can never truly die, Daphne. I ascended to the pinnacle of magic, and I have made myself immortal. No one - not any Auror, Minister of Magic, not even Dumbledore - and certainly not a baby Harry Potter - can kill me. I have no weakness. My return is an inevitability, Daphne. The only question is how long it will take - and with your help, it shan't take long.
Blake pretended to hesitate.
What do you need me to do?
And after some hesitation, he added something that made himself cringe with disgust, but he did it anyway.
My Lord.
Thank you, Daphne. I will not forget your loyalty. You must return this diary to the fool who first happened across my diary - she will be the stepping stone for my return.
How?
Let me worry about that, Daphne - you just focus on making sure she gets it. Then, Harry Potter will follow - I know he will.
I see. And who is the girl?
Ginny Weasley.
The blood traitor?
Yes, the blood traitor. That is why she must be the one to fall, in order for me to rise. Do you understand what you must do, Daphne?
I do.
Excellent. The next time we speak, it shall be face to face. I will be whole again, and you will be the first person I seek out.
I'm honoured, my Lord.
Perfect. Goodbye, Daphne.
Goodbye, my Lord.
Blake closed the diary.
"What the hell does he mean, he's immortal?" Ron burst out after a brief moment of silence.
"Well, we already knew that he's not dead right now," Harry inputted, seeming slightly shaken.
"Yeah," Blake nodded. "But we've done our job. We know pretty much everything now - obviously apart from how to make one of those diaries, but he would never tell us that." He looked over at McGonagall and Snape, who still seemed dumbfounded.
"I think our job here is done, Professor. We should either destroy the diary, or lock it up until Professor Dumbledore returns."
"I believe that the Headmaster will want to inspect the diary," Snape drawled.
"I agree," McGonagall nodded. "Professor Snape and I will take care of that," she promised.
"You 4, we are grateful for your assistance, but I'm afraid I must insist that you head back to your dormitories. It's quite late now."
Blake, Harry, Ron and Ginny looked at each other before quickly nodding and saying their goodbyes, before heading out to leave.
"Mr Potter, Mr Renshaw, and Mr Weasley," she called back. As the boys turned around, they were surprised to see the old lady smiling faintly.
"Although I'm very disappointed that none of you reached out to us for help to deal with that Merin-awful monster inside the Chamber… I'm glad and proud that you didn't need us. 50 House Points for each of you."
"Thanks, Professor!" Ron gloated, his cheeks as red as his hair. Harry smiled too, as did Blake, who thanked her too.
Damn it. How am I going to explain these House Points to the rest of the House, he thought secretly. If someone connects the dots and sees I'm working with Harry…
"Blake?" called Harry, interrupting his musing. They were standing at the door now, ready to leave. "You coming?"
Blake nodded hastily.
"Thanks for your help, Professors," he said with a smile, before following the Gryffindors out.
After the door closed, McGonagall and Snape looked at each other, both with unreadable expressions on their faces.
"We did nothing," McGonagall sighed. "Just like last time."
"It was as the Headmaster wished," Snape replied curtly. "There were no deaths, and now, we have more intel on the Dark Lord, at the cost of petrifications."
"We were lucky, Severus," the old woman responded. "If Connor Renshaw hadn't been petrified, I doubt Blake would've been so hellbent on dealing with the threat."
"I disagree, Minerva," Snape shot back. "The boy was already investigating. I noticed him sneaking off in the middle of the night to Myrtle Warren's bathroom. He's naturally curious and invasive, just like Potter."
"That was for the sake of his brother too, Severus. And likely his muggleborn friends. Did you know he spends time with Ms Granger too? I'm shocked that the boy's in Slytherin to this day. He has some qualities of Slytherin, yes, but his Gryffindor qualities far outshine them."
Snape laughed - a rare, low, sarcastic laugh.
"I don't disagree that the boy has Gryffindor tendencies, Minerva - but everyone does. Everybody is loyal to something or someone. Renshaw is just exceedingly loyal to a very select, limited group of people. His family, his Slytherin friends, Potter, Granger, and oddly enough, Longbottom. I truly believe that although he would try to help others, he wouldn't risk his life - not like Potter would. The boy is clearly ambitious, cunning, proud and for better or worse, he's clearly manipulative. Even if the Dark Lord only stored his consciousness as a 16 year old, 13 year old Renshaw tricked him. He killed a Basilisk with nothing but wit. Blake Renshaw is Slytherin, through and through."
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