Draco Malfoy sat alone in the center of the room, writing meticulously crafted stories in his diary.

A thick white mist still swirled around him, with faint light shining down from high above, casting shadowy figures deep within the pervasive fog, as if some ancient magic ritual were taking place.

Draco's heart pounded, his courage slowly dissipating in the silence as time passed.

Were Professor Dumbledore and the others still watching him? Had Tom Riddle noticed the loopholes in his stories? How much time remained before the agreed-upon deadline with the boss?

He struggled to gather his scattered thoughts, his quill scratching back and forth across the pages.

Fabricating a history, even just on a textual level, was far more challenging than he had imagined.

Every time Draco finished a large passage, Tom Riddle would silently "devour" the content, raising questions based on minor details or casually inquiring about his worries about his school life.

For some reason, Draco always felt a pair of cold, narrow eyes watching him from behind the diary.

More than once, he felt as if he were about to be exposed, instinctively reaching for the Sorting Hat to put it on—a special signal Eileen had arranged with him beforehand. Regardless of whether the time was up, putting on the hat would signal his "extraction."

However, that would also mean the failure of his mission.

"Simply opening your soul won't be enough to make Voldemort appear..."

Draco Malfoy looked solemnly at the diary, Eileen's words echoing in his mind.

"While you open your heart and allow that neither-man-nor-ghost in the diary to regain his strength, I want you to find a way to force or lure Voldemort to open a small part of his soul to you as well. Of course, you must be extra careful..."

In the "parallel future world" he was carefully crafting, the Malfoy family's situation was far more dire than it was now.

As the Dark Lord's forces crumbled, the loyal Death Eaters who had gathered around Voldemort faced ruthless joint purges from the Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore—

The last of the Black family was imprisoned and left to die; the Lestranges were eradicated; the Malfoy family spent their fortune to save their former companions…

Even…

Even within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin wizards had become pariahs.

Rumors circulated that Dumbledore and the school's board of governors might be considering abolishing or reshaping the house.

"...Last semester, our house common room was breached."

Draco Malfoy had to concentrate fully, immersing himself in the grief and helplessness. Otherwise, he feared the eyes behind the diary would detect the huge dissonance between his emotions and the content he was writing.

"Dozens of older students were repeatedly beaten by unknown thugs in the corners of the school. After losing the Quidditch match, we even had to force a smile and organize a banquet to welcome our opponents who had won through despicable means. In the Slytherin Head of House's class, even Hufflepuff first-years could stand on the podium and gesticulate..."

"Every night, the Slytherin students huddled in the common room in fear, watching helplessly as the fish in the Black Lake were slaughtered. While others in the Great Hall enjoyed sumptuous feasts, our tables were filled with stench and strange food that was darker than night..."

"Not only that, but since I entered the school, we've been like the most humble house-elves, spending extra time and energy cultivating the fields outside the castle in addition to our weekly classes..."

"I once thought about submitting, about seeking refuge with the strong..."

"But all I got in return was alienation, ridicule, and endless beatings and teasing. The pretty girls from the other houses would rather date each other than spare us even a moment's glance..."

"In recent years, we Slytherin wizards have lived like we're not even human..."

"And all of this, all of this, is because of your fault!"

Draco Malfoy wrote frantically in the diary, so forcefully that he even pierced the paper.

"Voldemort, Tom Riddle, you ruined Slytherin! You ruined the last glory of the pure-blood wizarding families! I just don't understand why my parents are still so naive as to put their hopes on you at this point!"

"I..." As if stunned by Malfoy's series of questions, the newly appeared words on the diary suddenly froze.

Of course, it could also be that repairing the paper pierced by the quill took him a few extra seconds.

In any case, compared to before, Tom Riddle's written response speed was noticeably slower and more hesitant this time, as if he were considering how to phrase his answer.

Before new words could appear in the diary, Draco Malfoy took a deep breath and wrote quickly with a grim expression.

"Speak! If you really are the most powerful wizard of all time, then why aren't you speaking!"

"What I want to say is that I can actually change..."

Riddle's handwriting appeared directly below Draco's words. His handwriting became messy and scrawled, as if a fire were burning in his heart, eager to say something to respond to Draco's questions.

However, compared to the well-prepared Draco Malfoy, Riddle's response was ultimately half a beat slower.

"Lies! Fake news! All ridiculous rumors!"

Draco Malfoy's quill wrote quickly, even faster than Ron copying homework.

After the previous conversation, he had gradually mastered Tom Riddle's response speed. Under this sudden and unexpected speed increase, the Dark Lord, who was still unable to transition from the previous pace of conversation, clearly began to lose ground.

"Young Malfoy, calm down, let me finish what I wanted to say——"

He's flustered! He's flustered!

Seeing Voldemort make the final stage reaction that Eileen had predicted, Draco Malfoy felt certain and wrote quickly with his quill without hesitation.

"What Salazar Slytherin's descendant, what restoring Slytherin's glory, what wizard who conquered death, what hope for pure-blood wizards… All lies! Perhaps you once had a sliver of hope, but now you're just a laughable memory hiding behind a diary, stuttering and cowering!"

Draco gripped the quill tightly, swinging his arm so fast that he almost knocked over the ink bottle next to him.

"If you really have the ability to change the situation, then show yourself to me first——"

*Whoosh*——

The diary seemed to be blown by a strong wind, the pages flipping back and forth, so that Draco Malfoy couldn't even find a space to write.

It wasn't until a few seconds later that the diary stopped again and returned to the very first page.

When Draco Malfoy's gaze returned to the paper, he found that it was densely covered with black ink, leaving only a blank white space in the middle, forming a somewhat incomprehensible reply.

"Since you insist on this and are willing to bear the consequences..."

Tom Riddle replied in the diary, his words seeming to hide resentment and coldness.

"Text communication is indeed too slow and sluggish. Recite this magic spell on this page, temporarily sharing a portion of your magic. I can appear before you, and then you will understand what it means to be a true descendant of Slytherin——"

Draco hesitated and stopped the quill—in fact, he had nowhere to write.

Then, two more lines of white text emerged in the diary.

A strange, awkward-sounding spell.

And, a blank rectangle.

Finally… Has this moment arrived? The moment to face the Dark Lord?

Draco Malfoy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He paused, took out the crumpled pointed wizard hat from his pocket and waved it in the air. Then, he raised his quill and tremblingly wrote a word in the blank space.

"Alright."

His lips trembled as he softly recited the strange spell on the book.

Before he could react, he felt as if a hole had broken in his body, and something invisible was flowing out continuously towards the front. He felt his body start to cool down rapidly…

And in his forward view, a blurry figure was gradually taking shape.

"What a foolish and arrogant little fellow. I didn't expect you to be so silly as to actually recite it…"

A voice said softly.

The blurry figure gradually became clearer. It was a tall, black-haired boy. Draco Malfoy frowned hard, trying to concentrate and see Tom Riddle's appearance clearly, but he found it increasingly difficult.

Drowsiness and fatigue were like a layer of foggy glass blocking his vision.

"Tom——Tom Riddle?"

"Unfortunately, it seems I won't be able to explain too much to you…"

Riddle nodded, curiously looking around at the dense white fog. He reached out and easily snatched the wand Draco had just drawn from his hand, preparing to cast a spell to light up some light to dispel the fog.

Suddenly——

In the depths of the dense fog, a dazzling blaze of light suddenly ignited.

Immediately afterward, the mist that had been surrounding him vanished in an instant. Just less than three meters away from him, a large group of wizards were looking at him with varying expressions. Unprecedentedly powerful magic was colliding recklessly in the narrow room.

The leading wizard was Dumbledore, who was several decades older than Tom Riddle remembered.

And beside him, the phoenix Fawkes had already returned Malfoy to his original location, and under Nicolas Flamel's help, he was rapidly recovering the life force that had been drawn away by Voldemort's strange magic.

"Long time no see, Tom!"

Dumbledore said softly with a serious expression.

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Guya, not lazy! Big chapter!