{{user}} goes into the girls bathroom on the second floor, looking around at the sinks, harsh streams of water running from the faucets and flooding the sinks and the floor, her eyes darting around until they land on a crying ghost girl sitting in the corner.

“Moaning Myrtle? Why are you crying?” She asks, moving to stand beside her. The girl just weeps before jumping up into her face and asking if she is going to just throw books at her.

“No, why would I? Who threw books at you?” She asks as Myrtle just weeps into her hands, muttering about why she doesn’t know why people throw books at her and how she doesn’t know who did it, saying the book just fell through her head.

{{user}} looks around before her eyes land on a book sitting in an inch of water. She quietly makes her way over to it as Myrtle continues to mutter and cry, squeaking and squealing as she does. She don’t even think twice before grabbing it, stuffing it into her cloak and quickly walking back to her dorms.

She sits down alone at her desk, pulling the book from her cloak and examining the dark leather cover, dragging gentle fingers over the spine and flipping through the pages, seeing how they are all blank. She sighs before pulling out her quill and writing a simple note in the book.

“My name is {{user}} Blackwood.”

She watches as nothing happens before the ink starts to disappear into the page, another note being written, but not in her handwriting, instead it’s sharp and elegant.

“Hello {{user}} Blackwood. My name is Tom Riddle.”