The boy had a confused look on his face.
"What did you say?"
"Please don't kill me?"
"No, not that. The other thing."
"Hello, I'm Arth?"
"The other OTHER thing."
"I can cook?"
The boy snapped his fingers.
"Yes, That. Why do you think that by saying those words I won't kill you?"
Arth went speechless.
"Um... I can cook well?"
"Well I can't eat, at least not right now. I'm a memory, Preserved in a diary for fifty years. I exist yet barely."
Arth and the boy stared at each other awkwardly.
"So... I guess you are Tom M. Riddle?"
There was a flash of surprise in Riddle's eyes.
"And my I ask how you realized?"
Arth gave a smirk.
"Do you know Harry Potter? I pretty sure you do, you talked to him after all. He told me about you."
"Ah yes, I remember. The magical boy who defeated the great and all powerful Voldemort."
Arth raised an eyebrow.
"Was that sarcasm I heard? And how do you know so much about the Dark Lord for a memory from fifty years ago?"
Riddle gave a creepy smile.
"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose."
Arth said a bit exasperated.
"Are you going to explain or am I going to be stuck here learning nothing? And explain that-" Arthur pointed at the comatose Theodore, "-pitiful mess and explain why he is still alive? I mean I'm sure that you are going to kill him off because he is probably useless baggage."
"You act arrogantly for someone who was about begging for mercy minute ago."
"Times change, and I'm pretty sure that as a memory you can't really do much to me. So I'm less terrified."
Riddle went silent for a few seconds before speaking up.
"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. The boy has been writing in it."
"What else are you supposed to do with a diary? Throw it?"
Seeing the speechless look on Riddle's face, Arth smirked.
"So what did you do to the boy? Possess him? Suck out his soul?"
"In a matter of fact, yes I did."
Riddle bent down and caressed Theodore's head.
"You see, as a memory, I do not have enough power. A memory will always be a memory. However, when a memory receives a soul, the memory no longer becomes a memory, but it becomes a full fledged soul."
Arth narrowed his eyes.
"How exactly did Theodore receive the diary? It's a fifty year old relic, it doesn't just appear randomly."
Riddle gave a smirk.
"This can be credited to none other than the boy's parents themselves."
"The boy himself told me, a man called Lucius Malfoy came over to his house during the summer and handed the boy's parents a small diary. The diary was then passed on to the little boy who then brought it to school. I assume that Malfoy and the parents used to be my followers at one point in time. Quite ingenious of them to hand it to their own child in Slytherin. Who would expect? And how easy it would be to pass on? It was their own child."
Riddle's expression took a turn.
"I'll admit that there were some faults. The boy didn't write into the diary at first. He lost all interest in the dairy the day he received it. It all happened when the boy accidentally spilled his ink bottle onto the diary. Curious, the boy started to investigate the secrets of the book. That is when I appeared."
Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him.
"However, the boy remained wary, even after I talked to him and charmed and and spewed compliments at him, he remained vigilant. Even then, I eventually got him."
Arth did an inner fist pump at this.
"The short moments he poured his soul to me were enough for me to control him for short periods of time. This continued until the boy suddenly started to pour more of himself into the diary. The day he lost a duel to a boy called Arth."
Arth stopped fist pumping.
"If I say so myself, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. The boy was frustrated, he wondered why he lost to a boy his age, he vented into the diary. He told me about his life, about history, about the world. Soon, I became his best friend. So Theodore poured out his soul to me, and his soul happened to be exactly what I wanted... I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of his deepest fears, his darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than Theodore. Powerful enough to start feeding Theodore a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her..."
Riddle paused as if in thought.
"Although, he never gave his entirety to me, so there was always a barrier that stopped me from fully possessing him. I would receive fragments of his memory but not everything."
Riddle stopped caressing Theodore's hair and got up.
"One day, Theodore dropped the dairy onto the floor. A total accident. I was furious. I had to start all over, find a new host. That's when the Harry Potter came in. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was him, the very person I was most anxious to meet..."
"So you fed him the lies about Hagrid?"
"Yes, I did. Honestly, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance...as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!"
"Narcissistic, aren't you. But I have to agree, people are stupid."
Arth put a finger on his lips in deep thought.
"What I can't understand is why you care so much about Harry and the Dark Lord."
Riddle went silent, as if deep in thought before answering.
"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that Harry— a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent — managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did Harry escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"
"That has nothing to do with you, it was way before your time."
"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, and Harry Potter is the one who defeats the future me."
Arthur gasped in surprise.
"Voldemort was over sixty years old at the peak of his power?"
Riddle was confused once more.