Cyrus and Ginny

Silvery-gray memories flowed through the dark space, like pale moonlight spilling into the morning mist, giving off a faint glow.

Cyrus quietly watched the unchanging scenery before him. Even though he no longer knew how much time he had spent here, he still found it hard to calm down-because he had transmigrated into a soul. No, he was not even a complete soul, merely a fragment with a few memories attached.

The owner of this soul fragment was none other than the infamous Dark Lord Voldemort. More specifically, it was the remnant soul within a Horcrux he had made as a student-Tom Riddle, aged just sixteen.

Now, however, Cyrus's arrival had erased young Tom's consciousness and made this fragment of a soul whole again.

Honestly, becoming a Horcrux was pretty wild even by transmigration standards. In his previous life, Cyrus had seen plenty of webnovel protagonists start off facing humiliation or even mortal danger, but those who had to figure out how to resurrect themselves the moment they transmigrated were quite rare.

More frustrating still, trapped inside the diary, he could only passively wait for the story to begin. If he had not been able to review the magical knowledge Tom Riddle had acquired at school, he probably would have gone mad with boredom in this lonely space long ago.

As he slowly sifted through the memories, Cyrus had to marvel at what a genius Tom Riddle truly was.

As expected of someone who would become the Dark Lord, by his fifth year he had already mastered almost all the magical knowledge in the Hogwarts curriculum, along with a considerable amount of dark magic from the Restricted Section. At that age, most ordinary students were probably still caught up in the restless urges of adolescence.

In fact, most wizards who truly left their mark on history were much the same. Dumbledore and Grindelwald had wanted to change the world while they were still students, and later put their ideas into action. Under the manifesto they had drawn up together, Grindelwald had nearly overturned the entire wizarding world. By comparison, Voldemort's vision was far more limited, but his talent was no less impressive.

Cyrus absorbed Tom Riddle's magical knowledge. He had spent countless days like this, but today seemed just a little different-

The silver mist stirred. Black ink drifted down like a thin wisp of smoke, falling into the still memories and slowly spreading.

"August 19. Sunny."

-The writing stopped there.

Cyrus sprang to his feet!

At a shabby desk, Ginny Weasley, who had been about to settle down and write in her diary, stared in surprise at its blank pages-the few words she had just written had all disappeared!

Apart from the lettering printed on the cover and the barely legible name "T. M. Riddle" on the inside cover, there was not a single word left in the yellowed diary.

Ginny had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, but that was hardly surprising, since all her textbooks were secondhand. Presumably, this person named Riddle had been the diary's first owner.

But no one had ever told her it was a magical book!

An overwhelming curiosity rose within this born Gryffindor.

Everything she had experienced this summer had been rather exciting-first, Harry Potter, whom she idolized, had come to stay at her house. Then she had received Owl Post from Hogwarts. And now, hidden among the secondhand textbooks she had disliked so much, there was actually a magical diary!

So she picked up her quill, dipped it in ink, and tried writing again:

"Today is a special day-"

She wrote the brief half-sentence on the page, but the ink was immediately absorbed, as though she had written on a sponge. It did not even leave an indentation.

Amazed, Ginny turned the page over, but the other side was perfectly clean too.

Where had all the ink gone?

Little Ginny stared with her bright eyes wide, her face full of confusion. Just then, a line of writing slowly appeared on the empty page-or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a greeting.

"Hello. Has something good happened to you today?"

Ginny jumped in fright, hurriedly dropped the quill in her hand, and leaped aside, staring at the diary in terror.

Every child raised in a magical household had inevitably heard the warning: "Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain." It was much like Muggle parents telling their children never to trust a stranger who approached them with sweets.

A magical object that could think was very likely to be evil.

Perhaps I should tell Mum about this?

Ginny could not help thinking so.

The thought almost filled her mind, yet she still did not act on it. Instead, another thought slowly began to grow-

Mum picked out the diary herself at Flourish and Blotts, along with those textbooks. If it really were dangerous, she wouldn't have given it to me.

Perhaps I could keep it, or see what tricks it can do. If anything really happens, I can still tell Mum then.

As a typical little lioness, Ginny certainly lacked neither courage nor curiosity. She bent down to pick up her worn quill and slowly returned to the desk. The greeting had not disappeared, as though it were waiting for her reply.

"Who are you?"

Those three words flickered along with the greeting above them, then vanished before Ginny's eyes. Another line of writing appeared.

"My name is Tom Riddle. I'm a small fragment of memory left behind by the owner of this diary. Where did you get it?"

After reading this, Ginny did not answer immediately. Instead, she opened her mouth and quietly said, "Harry Potter." Only after finding that she could still speak normally, rather than in a silly five-line rhyme, did she breathe a sigh of relief and resume writing.

"My mum bought it in the secondhand section at Flourish and Blotts."

"The secondhand section at Flourish and Blotts? Does that mean you're a Hogwarts student too?" The presence in the diary seemed both surprised and delighted, as though he had met a stranger who, despite being unfamiliar, shared a close connection with him.

And that word "too" gave Ginny a strong sense of kinship.

"I'm starting my first year this year. Are you a Hogwarts student too?"

"I used to be, but I graduated. I never imagined the diary I left behind would find its way into the hands of a young Hogwarts witch. Perhaps it was meant to be. By the way, I haven't asked your name yet?"

Ginny hesitated for a while before writing down her name.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley. You can call me Ginny."

Just then, another line seemed to appear in the diary, but before she could read it, a knock at the door made her heart leap, and she snapped the diary shut.

"Ginny, dinner's ready! Have you fallen asleep? I've called you several times." It was Molly Weasley's voice outside the door.

"No, Mum. I'm coming."