Kai Adler looked around. The world around him shimmered faintly, wrapped in a translucent veil. Everything appeared slightly hazy, as though seen through a foggy window.
He recognized this sensation immediately—it was a memory.
Back in Nurmengard, whenever the old man was too tired or disinterested in teaching spells, he would simply draw Kai into one of his own memories and make him learn by watching. This sensation—the drifting, detached awareness—was all too familiar.
The environment was unmistakably Hogwarts. The stone staircase he stood upon led from the fourth to the fifth floor, and the ancient walls looked no different from the present day.
On the stairs ahead stood a young boy in Slytherin robes, his posture straight, his expression composed, his gaze fixed on something happening above.
He was handsome. Refined.
Tom Riddle, Kai guessed.
Though he couldn't interact with anything in a memory, he still studied the boy closely.
On the fifth-floor landing, a crowd of students and professors had gathered. Murmurs filled the air. The atmosphere was grim—like a funeral.
Four adult wizards were carefully carrying a stretcher down the stairs. A white cloth draped over it outlined the shape of a body beneath. Judging by the figure's size, it wasn't an adult.
"A student," Kai murmured to himself.
"Riddle!"
A familiar voice cut through the hushed tones. Both Kai and the boy turned at once.
A younger Albus Dumbledore stood partway down the staircase, his eyes fixed intently on Tom Riddle.
"Come here," he said.
Tom ascended the stairs to meet him. Kai followed in silence.
"It's not safe to be wandering around so late, Tom," Dumbledore said, his tone calm but firm.
"Yes, Professor," Tom answered respectfully.
"I thought I should see for myself if the rumors were true."
Dumbledore's expression darkened. "I'm afraid they are."
"Will the school be closed?" Tom's voice was quiet, but full of worry. "I have nowhere else to go, Professor. They're not really going to shut down Hogwarts… are they?"
Kai raised an eyebrow. Nowhere to go? That hit a little too close to home.
"I understand, Tom," Dumbledore sighed. "But Headmaster Dippet may have no choice."
So Dumbledore wasn't Headmaster yet.
Tom's eyes flickered. "What if the danger passed? What if the culprit was caught?"
Dumbledore studied him for a moment. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"
Tom's face remained serene. "No, Professor. Nothing."
Dumbledore's gaze lingered a moment longer, but Tom met it without flinching. His eyes were steady. Almost too steady.
"Very well. You may go."
"Goodnight, Professor."
Tom turned and began walking down the corridor, away from the Slytherin common room.
Dumbledore stood still, watching him disappear, concern etched into his face.
Kai followed Tom at a distance, noting how—once he was out of Dumbledore's sight—he changed direction entirely, cutting through a tower and descending toward a far corner of the castle.
There, Tom stopped before an old wooden door.
He glanced around. Finding no one, he drew his wand and opened it.
A tall figure stood inside, his back turned, clearly trying to hide something.
Kai immediately recognized him: Rubeus Hagrid. He looked much younger, but still towered over most adults. And even at this age, he wore the same tangled beard—just a bit less unruly.
So they were classmates, Kai mused.
"Good evening, Hagrid," Tom said smoothly.
Hagrid turned, startled, clearly trying to block something behind him. A large wooden crate was half-visible behind his legs.
"I have to report you," Tom continued, wand raised. "I know you didn't mean for it to kill anyone, but…"
Panic swept across Hagrid's face. "You don't understand—it wasn't like that!"
But Tom pressed on. "The girl's parents are coming tomorrow. The school has to do something. The creature responsible—"
"It wasn't him! Aragog never hurt anyone!" Hagrid protested desperately.
"Monsters aren't fit to be pets, Hagrid."
"Get out of the way!"
"No!"
"I said—move aside!"
"Not happening!"
"Cistem Aperio!"
Tom's wand slashed through the air. The spell struck the box with such force that even Hagrid stumbled backward.
Kai's eyes narrowed. That was an advanced spell, meant to unseal magically reinforced containers. Its power rivaled what even some adult wizards could manage.
The lid burst open. From within, something black and hairy shot out with a horrifying click-clack of chitinous legs.
It was a spider—massive, at least the size of a large dog.
It skittered across the floor, rushing past both boys and vanishing into the corridor.
"Arania Exumai!"
Tom fired spell after spell, but the creature evaded them easily.
"Aragog! Aragog!" Hagrid shouted after it, running to the door.
Once it was gone, Tom turned again, wand still raised.
"I'm sorry, Hagrid. They'll take your wand. You'll be expelled."
His tone was sincere, even regretful—but his actions were decisive.
And then the scene began to fade.
The magical pull tugged at Kai's consciousness, and he felt himself being drawn out of the memory.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the Room of Requirement.
The diary lay open before him.
Kai sat still, letting the memory settle in his mind.
The body on the stretcher… clearly the latest victim from that era's Chamber of Secrets attack.
Tom Riddle had asked only a few questions before swiftly turning Hagrid in. Too swiftly.
And if Kai hadn't already known that the creature in the Chamber was a Basilisk, he might have believed Hagrid was guilty too.
It was clever.
Calculated.
The truth was obvious: Hagrid had been made a scapegoat so the school wouldn't be closed.
Kai stared at the diary.
This wasn't just a recording of past events. It was an attempt to manipulate him. To shape his perception.
Such deception was only possible from someone who knew the truth.
Or… from the one responsible.
The conclusion was inescapable: Tom Riddle was either the mastermind behind the Chamber's opening—or dangerously close to it.
Kai stood, pocketing the diary.
He needed answers.
And the person to ask… was Hagrid.
Behind the castle, beyond the sloping lawns, the dark edge of the Forbidden Forest loomed. In front of it sat a small stone hut, ringed by a crude wooden fence. Smoke drifted lazily from its chimney.
Kai lifted the Disillusionment Charm and knocked firmly on the heavy wooden door.
Hagrid opened it, blinking in surprise. "Kai? Blimey, it's been a while. What're you doing out after curfew?"
Kai smiled politely. "May I come in?"
"Of course, of course. C'mon inside."
Kai stepped in, glancing around. Everything in the hut was built large—even the furniture. He settled into a massive armchair that nearly swallowed him whole.
"Sorry, I've only got hot water," Hagrid offered.
"No need." Kai leaned back, eyeing Hagrid carefully.
"When you looked outside just now… were you afraid the Ministry might come knocking?"
Hagrid stiffened slightly, the question catching him off guard. "Did Dumbledore send you?"
"No," Kai said calmly. "I came on my own. I just have one question."
He paused. "Who is Tom Riddle?"
The change in Hagrid's expression was immediate. His face darkened as memories surfaced.
"Tom…" Hagrid muttered. "He was in my year. People don't call him that anymore, though. They call him…"
He hesitated. Then gave up trying to say the name.
"Lord Voldemort."
Kai's eyes narrowed.
So the soul within the diary belonged to him.
He stood and nodded politely. "Thank you for your honesty."
As he stepped out into the night, Hagrid called after him, confused.
"I thought you'd ask about the Chamber—what happened fifty years ago…"
Kai didn't answer.
He already knew what mattered.
And now, the real investigation could begin.