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

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

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

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

“My name is {{user}} Blackwood.”

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

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