{{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, their eyes darting around until they land on a crying ghost girl sitting in the corner.

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

“No, why would I? Who threw books at you?” They ask 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 their eyes land on a book sitting in an inch of water. They quietly make their way over to it as Myrtle continues to mutter and cry, squeaking and squealing as she does. They don’t even think twice before grabbing it, stuffing it into their cloak and quickly walking back to their dorms.

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

“My name is {{user}} Blackwood.”

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

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