CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
confide in. . . . It’s like having a friend I can carry around in my
pocket. . . .”
Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn’t suit him. It made
the hairs stand up on the back of Harry’s neck.
“If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the
people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul
happened to be exactly what I wanted. . . . I grew stronger and
stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew
powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful
enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start
pouring a little of my soul back into her . . .”
“What d’you mean?” said Harry, whose mouth had gone very
dry.
“Haven’t you guessed yet, Harry Potter?” said Riddle softly.
“Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the
school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She
set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib’s
cat.”
“No,” Harry whispered.
“Yes,” said Riddle, calmly. “Of course, she didn’t know what she
was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen
her new diary entries . . . far more interesting, they became. . . .
Dear Tom,” he recited, watching Harry’s horrified face, “I think I’m
losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I
don’t know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did
on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got paint
all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I’m pale and I’m
not myself. I think he suspects me. . . . There was another attack today
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