This time, the sucking sound at the level of his soul became clearer, more ravenous! The diary's pages seemed to turn into living skin, rising and falling faintly as they greedily devoured Harry's warm blood.
The dark green light flared brilliantly! It was no longer just writing appearing—the entire diary now emitted an eerie green glow! A powerful pull came from within it, no longer merely drinking his blood, but seeming to tug at Harry's very soul!
Harry felt the world spin. The dying embers in the common room fireplace and the outline of the armchair instantly blurred, twisted, and stretched. It was as if he had been thrown into a dark green vortex, wrapped in an icy, viscous sensation as the sucking sound became a deafening roar!
He wanted to struggle, to shout, but no sound came from his throat. His body felt bound by countless invisible threads, unable to move.
The dizziness passed, and the scene before him abruptly came into focus.
He found himself standing in a narrow corridor. Magical torches along the walls gave off vivid azure flames, illuminating the stone floor until it shone. The air smelled of candle wax and parchment, mingled with a faint bitterness like boiled herbs. Along one side of the corridor stood a row of oak doors, each bearing a brass nameplate—he saw the words "Potions Professor's Office." The door was closed, but a sliver of warm yellow light leaked from beneath it.
Then he saw someone.
A boy stepped out of the room. He wore a deep green Slytherin robe, crisply pressed, with a prefect's badge pinned at his collar. His dark brown hair, nearly black, was combed flawlessly, as though measured with a ruler. His face was thin, his cheekbones high, and his skin so pale it was