WHO: Cedric Diggory WHERE: his flat WHEN: Friday night, after he collects the diary from Adrian WHAT: Horcrux, what?
Cedric waited until he was home to really look at the journal. He'd promised Adrian to send it on to his friend, but he himself was curious about what Adrian had desribed. Sitting at his kitchen table, he dipped his quill in his ink pot and wrote:
Hello, my name is Cedric Diggory.
The ink shimmered, then disappeared into the diary like Adrian said it had. Then he held his breath and waited.
Hello Cedric. My name is Tom Riddle.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, it talks back," Cedric said, his hands trembling slightly and dripping ink over the journal.
Where are you from>
Wizarding Britain. Where are you from?
Wizarding Britain. When are you from?
I attended Hogwarts in the 1940's. What year is it?
1998 Cedric wrote, stopping to think about what to say next. Excellent, what is happening? floated up and he realized why Adrian had been freaked out. He'd been right to be freaked out. This was a talking diary. A sentient, talking diary.
Is this your diary? He asked, ignoring the questioning about what was happening. He could answer that later.
He was surprised when Tom wrote back, No, no, it is yours to write all that which you wish to be truly concealed.
"More concealed than the journals?" Cedric wondered, putting the question to the diary.
What are the journals?
A fair question, Cedric answered back, explaining the journals, how long they had been around for, and that they had the capacity to ward things to other individuals. Part of him knew he should stop, should immediately take the sentient book to his friend and let him deal with it, but part of him wanted to keep having a conversation.
"A few more questions won't hurt," Cedric rationalized. It wasn't as though a talking book could harm him.
That is not true concealment, Cedric, Tom said, and Cedric imagined the voice scolding him.
Sorry.
No need to be sorry, my friend. Tell me, what is it like in 1998?
Supreme Lord Voldemort rules - what is true concealment? He wasn't stupid, but he did know wards were pretty secure, at least the wards around the journals. No one had managed to hack them after all.
But the journal was silent for a moment, and Cedric had the niggling feeling it was waiting for him to tell more about 1998. So he wrote, There was a war in the 80's. The Supreme Lord fought against a rogue group called the Order of the Phoenix, led by Albus Dumbledore. They were defeated in April of 1982, and the Supreme Lord has ruled absolutely since then. The Muggleborns are all Banished, some half-bloods too.
The diary was silent a moment longer then words began to appear on the page, quickly and disappeared just as quickly and Cedric had to pay fast attention to keep up.
Albus Dumbledore was never a good man, it is a relief to hear that someone has finally defeated him. You are a good man, Cedric Diggory. Let this diary be your escape, let it be truly concealed. Wards can be shattered, but the magic surrounding this cannot be duplicated or broken. Go on, tell me a secret."
Tell him a secret. Tell it a secret, is what it ought have been, but Cedric's heart was racing. He was thrilled beyond belief at this thing. He dipped his quill into the ink pot one last time.
Sometimes I want to go into the Muggle world. I hear they have strawberries all the time there.
His heart skipped a beat as the words soaked into the page, but Cedric just figured that was the excitement of sharing a secret. It was a hook, latching onto his soul, and though Cedric didn't realize it, he was caught.