Just then, movement came simultaneously from the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory and the portrait hole beside the Fat Lady!
Hermione hurried back, her face full of concern. She held a thick notebook filled with reading notes, and the bookmarks tucked between its pages clearly showed that they were all materials on how to lift restrictions on magical objects. After all, the diary Harry had obtained that morning was far too strange. No matter what method they used, they could not leave a mark on it. Combined with Malfoy's claim that it had once apparently belonged to Ginny, being thoroughly prepared was only sensible.
Ron and the twins, Fred and George, came in as well. Ron was excitedly saying, "...George and the others remembered there's a book in the Restricted Section called..."
"The Shackles of the Soul: On Ancient Binding Magic and Vessels of Consciousness! Written by Bagshot, and it seems..." George's voice abruptly cut off.
Everyone's eyes instantly focused on the round table—Harry's face was white as paper. A bleeding wound lay across his left palm, while the fingers of his right hand, stained with ink and blood, pressed against an open Black Diary that radiated an ominous aura!
Most horrifying of all, several lines of elegant yet spine-chilling dark green writing were clearly emerging on the diary's blank pages:
Harry... Potter...
So... it was you.
"Merlin's beard! Harry! What did you do?!" Hermione cried out in unprecedented terror. She rushed to the table, her gaze locked on the words and the blood on Harry's hand. "You... you spoke to it?! With... blood?!"
"It answered!" Harry suddenly looked up, his voice hoarse and excited. "Hermione, Ron! Look! It knows me! Its reaction... was terrifying! Just now... it was..."
Before Harry could finish, he, Hermione, and Ron watched