Family Tutor

I don't know if it was just my imagination, but after the writing disappeared, the originally yellowed paper suddenly became lighter in color, as if it had faded.

Almost simultaneously, a string of words, as messy as wild cursive script, appeared on the paper.

Kyle squinted for a long time before he could barely understand what he had written.

[Never give the diary to Dumbledore... I mean, Professor Dumbledore is the person I admire most, and I would much rather visit him in person than just have a memory of him. I believe I will still feel the same way fifty years from now.]

As Kyle read this sentence, he felt that same sense of being watched again, and this time it was even more pronounced.

At the same time, a faint whisper echoed in his mind, constantly reminding him to believe Riddle's words.

However, under the influence of Occlumency, this suggestion becomes explicit, almost out in the open.

Besides Legilimency, does he even know Confundus Charm?

Tsk tsk, even the name reeks of old Liu's style, that's just too cheesy.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance, and calmly wrote, "You're right, Tom. It was my oversight."

"I think Headmaster Dumbledore would prefer you to show him the diary yourself."

[That's right, you're correct.]

Riddle's handwriting returned to normal.

[So please don't let him see your diary, okay?]

"Since you put it that way... then alright."

Kyle readily agreed.

After that incident, Riddle dared not ask any more questions and dutifully became a governess, seemingly afraid that Kyle might suddenly decide to give the diary to Dumbledore again.

Although he behaved much better, Kyle's experience was even worse...

Because Riddle's handwriting was fading, from black to gray, and before he had said a few words, it had turned light gray again.

Finally, when Kyle asked another question about Ancient Runes arrangement, Riddle didn't answer.

A line of light-colored text appeared in the diary.

I'm afraid I won't be able to study with you for a while.

"Why..." Kyle wrote anxiously.

The unit on basic permutations was almost over, so why did things have to go wrong at this crucial moment?

That guy did it on purpose, didn't he...?

[The diary's magic is almost gone.]

Does this even require magic?

"But... I remember those portraits in the castle could always talk."

[It's different. Hogwarts Castle is a very special place, possessing immense magical power. The portrait is also part of the castle, so there's no need to worry about its consumption.]

[But I'm just an ordinary diary; I can only communicate with you through the magic stored within me.]

"What should we do then...?"

Kyle seemed very anxious and quickly asked, "When school starts, can I stick you on the castle wall?"

"I know of a particularly smooth wall, in the corridor on the right side of the second-floor library. Although some Gryffindor students often throw Dungbomb at it, Mr. Filch, the librarian, cleans it up and even sprays it with air freshener to ensure there's no smell."

Riddle fell silent again...

Although he didn't know what Dungbomb was, he knew from the name that it was definitely not a good thing.

Are young wizards these days playing such wild games?

[No, my diary isn't part of the castle; putting it on the wall won't help.]

As if afraid Kyle wouldn't be able to see it clearly, the writing turned light gray again.

I can recover on my own, but it might take a while, and I won't be able to answer your questions during that time.

Is there anything I can do?

Kyle glanced at the box that could block magic, which was placed next to him.

Made by Nicolas Flamel, its effectiveness goes without saying. If the diary were allowed to recover on its own, it might take much longer than just a "little" moment.

"I have so much to share with you, my new friend."

That's exactly what Riddle was waiting for.

[If you need my help with anything, you can use fresh... dragon's blood as ink; that will help me recover faster.]

"Dragon blood?"

Kyle was taken aback. He had thought Riddle wanted some small animals as life-saving treasures, but he hadn't expected that he wanted dragon blood.

"But Tom... I remember the Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood, and it doesn't have the function of replenishing magic power."

[That's true for wizards, but I'm a diary now, which is perfect for absorbing magic from within...]

Actually, Riddle wanted Unicorn Blood more; that special blood would allow him to recover faster... and he wouldn't have to worry about the curse.

But in order not to arouse Kyle's suspicion, he had no choice but to settle for second best and choose dragon blood.

"Replenishing special items with magic power—is this the thirteenth use of dragon blood?"

"Wow, Tom... Even Headmaster Dumbledore didn't notice this."

[Maybe.]

Riddle gave a perfunctory reply, seemingly unwilling to discuss anything related to Dumbledore.

[The magic of the diary is fading; let's talk about something else.]

Kyle raised an eyebrow:

"Tom, maybe it's just my imagination, but I get the feeling you're a little afraid of Headmaster Dumbledore."

[Okay, I admit there is a bit, but that's normal, isn't it... He's the most powerful wizard.]

Kyle would have loved to save the sentence if the writing hadn't disappeared so quickly.

Voldemort himself admitted that he was afraid of Dumbledore... This would definitely make the front page of the Daily Prophet.

You're wrong, Tom.

Kyle thought for a moment, then picked up his pen and wrote:

"Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard twelve years ago, but he isn't anymore."

[What?] The handwriting has become messy again.

"Twelve years ago, someone killed a dark wizard of similar strength to Dumbledore without even using a wand..."

[His name is... I mean, that dark wizard.]

"I think it's called something like Ground Bat or Swooping Evil... never mind, it's not important."

"Alright, Tom, you should get some rest. I'm going to go find some fresh dragon's blood now. We'll talk again next time!"

After finishing writing, Kyle immediately closed the diary.

He vaguely saw a new passage appear inside, and the ink was quite dark.

I didn't see what it said, but it doesn't matter.

Kyle tossed the diary into the box, slammed the lid shut, and set it aside.

Afterwards, he tidied up the parchment on the table that was filled with various formulas and began to read it little by little, referring to the "Detailed Explanation of Runic Symbols".