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“I’m telling you; there’s nothing to find in there,” Ron said, “Riddle got himself a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered filling it in.”
Harry looked disappointed and another picked it up. “I’ll take it then. I could use another notebook; I’ve already filled up the one I have.”
“You just got one, how’d you fill it up already?” Ron asked.
“What do you have in there anyway? Poetry?” Harry asked, half teasingly, half curious.
“Certainly not.” A lip curled in self-deprecation. “I’m not nearly creative enough for that.”
“What an odd little thing you are.” Pianist fingers along the cover and hummed, “You’re certainly packed with more magic than you should be.”
A hand waved over the book, casting Detect Magic and the book glowed a dark red. “Necromancy…how interesting. Well, nothing I need to do about that now. For now…”
A hum, and then a quill started sketching. A circle in the middle, two lines branching out to connect to two other circles. Another two lines, one going north and another south, connected to two hollow hemispheres with a dip in the middle. On and on she sketched until a rough draft of the World Axis sat on the page.
“And for the final touch…” A finger rested on the page and breathed the magic into it.
Tom Marvolo Riddle stared down at his diary in surprise. When he’d first entered the diary, he’d thought he’d hibernate until he was needed. Instead, he was stuck in a pale imitation of Hogwarts, or at least a part of it. Sometimes he spotted a section of Wool’s lingering on the outskirts, but all of his surroundings were misty, pale, and grey. The only connection to the outside world was his diary; that and those who write in it.
The first person to write in his diary after five decades is a girl named Ginny. A first year, with all her talks of missing home and of school. She talked about her crush, a boy named Harry Potter. A boy that killed his other self as a child, a subject worth looking into. Her soul and magic were decent, but her mind was fragile from loneliness and insecurity. It was ridiculous how easy and amusing it’d been to wear her down and weave his web. All he had to do was offer a little comfort, and a patient ear.
Up until she tossed his diary, him, into an abandoned lavatory in a puddle of water.
The indignation only lasted a short time as his diary was quickly picked up again. This time by a boy not much older than Ginny, filled with magic. His diary was passed between the boy, another boy, and two girls. The other boy and girl had strong magic, but the last girl. Even after a single touch, Tom can feel the magic boiling and roaring inside her. It felt far different than the magic of his peers.
As he opened the diary with an eagerness he would’ve denied if anyone else had been present, a wave of that magic rushed over him. It was warm, and questioning, lightly prodding at him before fading. He stared intently at the page, waiting for the first words to appear.
Instead of words, a shape started to take form and Tom saw a circle appear, followed by two lines, more circles, until a large sphere cut in half, suspended over an axis sat before him. It was a strange image, one Tom had certainly never seen before, and when he examined it closer, the smaller spheres in the middle and sides had something drawn in them while the two large hemispheres had more nebulous designs.
Before he could puzzle out or, Merlin forbid, ask what the strange device was, more magic rushed over him. It crashed and tumbled into him; wild, warm, heady, intoxicating.
The magic wave flooded the strange device and to Tom’s amazement, the previously gray device was filed with color. The cradle and hemispheres became a deep, rich bronze, but Tom’s attention was focused on the spheres. Color rushed into the spheres; the center filled with the ocean blue, and green of the forests. The right sphere flushed with spring green, pink, and a strange misty sky, with the left a swirling black and white fog, and Tom’s fingers itched to touch it. The top filled with purple, blue, green, all mixed with constellations, but none that Tom could identify, while the bottom became a roiling mass of char and fire to rival Fiendfyre itself.
As Tom slowly took in the strange device, words started to appear in the diary. Except it wasn’t a greeting, but a name.
The World Axis.
As if waiting for a cue, the World Axis started moving. The star and sky on the top started swirling as if a wind blew through it and the fires in the bottom roared and leaped like wild animals. Warmth and a breeze washed over Tom and he relished in the change. The smaller spheres didn’t emit any temperature changes, but when Tom leaned in, small figures could be seen darting through the fog and trees.
He reached out and touched the World Axis and felt the magnitude of power running through it. He traced the engravings covering the top and bottom and the World Axis hummed under his hands. Questions filled his mind, but underneath, ran an almost overwhelming greed. The girl’s magic was wonderfully strong, stable, yet wild, but her soul. Oh her soul.
While Ginny’s and the boy’s had been strong, this girl’s soul overflowed with power and unknown knowledge. Her magic danced around him, taunting him with their hidden depths. He wanted to reach out and speak to her, but he was loathe to destroy this new, wondrous device. Still, perhaps he could try something else.
“This is quite the device.” Tom wrote.
There was a pause and then slanted, jagged writing appeared. It’s not a device, although I know it looks like one.
The girl’s response is calm, and matter of fact for someone that had a book write back to them.
“What is it then?”
It’s a map. A map of magic.
“This isn’t any kind of map I’ve ever seen.”
No. It’s...
The words trailed off and Tom waited impatiently.
It’s a map of world far, far from here. Where magic and monsters mingle with the norm. Of hells, of magic seas, and the fae. Knowledge and treasure hide in every corner. It’s a home far from here.
“You sound like you’ve been there before.” Tom liked the sound of this world, a place where magic was practiced openly, and knowledge actively sought after.
You could say that.
“What’s your name? My name is Tom Riddle.”
Nice to meet you, Tom. I’m Alexandra Ackermann.