Days later, when Hermione's situation was much better, and she wasn't aching all over, to feed her kitten, chest not swelling up like those of Kneazles.
Then only, Madam Pomfrey allowed any visitors in the hospital wing, Harry immediately took this chance to enter, while Lucifer was getting something for her to read.
Harry had spoken up about something else Malfoy had said, "So it's actually a good thing he didn't come with us to interrogate Malfoy."
Hermione already had a pretty good idea why, "What did he say?" She asked anyway.
"He referred to you as a Mudblood at least five times... Lucifer would've hospitalized him," Harry said.
"No..." she said quietly, only they could hear, "he would have definitely killed Malfoy...no matter who stood in his way."
That sent a chill down Harry's and Ron's spine.
They looked at each other, both pale in the face as Lucifer himself returned.
They looked at him; they weren't surprised, but at the same time, they knew he would follow through with that, and that was what terrified them.
Something under her bed suddenly caught Harry's eye, "What's that?" He asked, kneeling down to get it.
"A 'Get Well Soon,' letter..." she said sweetly.
But, her voice suddenly turned sour, with a hint of disgust, "from Lockhart."
Harry uncrumpled the paper and read it, his face contorting with mild disgust, which then turned to seriously uncomfortable looking, "That bad?" Ron asked him.
"You don't want to know..." he replied, crumpling the paper up again, discarding it to the floor where it belonged.
"He's so..." Hermione looked for the right word, "creepy."
"Definitely," Ron said in agreement.
Madam Pomfrey then came over to give Hermione her daily medicine, making the three boys leave.
Lucifer only left upon matron's insistence, while Hermione also glared at her, trying to argue with the reason of tail being removed at night, so she must needed him there.
They all trudged up the stairs back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry and Ron complaining about the homework Snape had given them.
There was suddenly an outburst that reached their ears, "That's Filch, come on!" Lucifer said, hurrying towards the source of the sound.
They got to the corner of the wall and peered around, he was mopping up water and complaining, "- even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore-" and he left.
They came around the corner and saw the water flooding from under Myrtle's bathroom door, "Now what's wrong with her?" Ron asked.
"Let's go see. She'll at least talk to Lucifer," Harry patted his shoulder.
"Maybe... after I got angry with her, she might not..." Lucifer said and led the way for them into the bathroom where Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before.
They walked over to her, "Myrtle? What's wrong?" He asked her.
"Who's that?" Myrtle moaned miserably, not paying attention to who it was, "Come to throw something else at me?"
"Why would I throw something at you?" He asked her, noticing that her ghostly white was over-cast with a blue hue.
He'd never seen something like that with a ghost before.
"Don't ask me," she wailed loudly, "I was just minding my own business, floating about, thinking about death, when a book was suddenly thrown at me!"
"But it can't hurt you, can it?" Harry asked without thinking.
Lucifer elbowed him, but the damage was done, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle because it can't hurt her and she can't feel it!"
She floated closer to Harry, "Ten Points if you get it through her stomach!" She punched through his, "Fifty Points if you get it through her head!" She shrieked, punching him through the head.
His face looked as though he'd just stepped into his own grave.
Lucifer really never wanted to walk through a ghost now.
"Do you know who threw it at you?" He asked her this question instead.
"No," she had calmed down considerably, "but it landed in the toilet and got washed out when I had a meltdown."
She pointed over to the sinks and Harry walked over to take a look.
A small, thin black book laid on the floor, soggy from all the water.
Harry went to pick it up when Ron pulled him back and stopped him, telling him it could be dangerous.
While they were bickering, Lucifer had become lost in thought, 'Someone was trying to get rid of a book? Why? How bad could the book be that someone wanted it gone?'
He was pulled from his thoughts when Harry spoke loudly, "The pages are blank except for a name, T. M. Riddle."
"Hang on a second..." Ron said, closing his eyes, "I know that name... yeah, he got a Shield Award in the Trophy room for Special Services to the school or something about fifty years ago."
"How do you remember that name? Weren't you in the Trophy Room on your detention night?" Lucifer asked him, while trying to feel if there was a dark magic signature around, but it only had a faint presence, just like every other item at Hogwarts.
"Yeah, and I still had the slug problem as well... I burped slugs all over it, Filch must've had me clean it at least fifty times. Trust me, if you had to clean his name to the point it shined, you'd remember it as well," Ron pointed out.
"So there is nothing in it?" Lucifer asked.
"No, completely blank," Harry held it open.
Lucifer pulled out his wand and pointed it at the pages, "Aparecium," but nothing happened, "Dammit... thought that would work for sure."
Harry pocketed the diary and they finally left the bathroom, making sure no one saw them leave.
*******
Author's Note
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