Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 260: Make a Friend

Tom Riddle was indeed a master at reading people and concealing his true intentions. After realizing that the person who had found the diary was a young wizard with excellent grades, he cultivated his ”genius student” persona carefully to forge a connection with Kyle. But perhaps “persona” wasn’t quite accurate—Riddle genuinely was a brilliant student, after all.

Because of this, he was able to answer Kyle’s questions quickly and with apparent ease, often offering insightful advice. Kyle, in turn, picked up quite a few useful tricks. For instance, Riddle shared a tip for Transfiguration: when transforming small insects, drawing circles with the wand could increase accuracy and was much easier than simply tapping them.

”I just tried it, and what you said really works,” Kyle wrote in the diary. ”I always thought any extra wrist movement would affect the spell’s result.”

[Actually, if youʼre skilled enough, wrist movement can enhance the spell’s precision,] Riddle replied. [I learned that from a professional journal called Transfiguration Today.]

”I’ll have to check it out... Can I buy it in Diagon Alley?” Kyle asked.

[No need to buy it; the school library carries it. You’ll find it on the fifteenth shelf, right side of the aisle, bottom row.]

”I’ll look for it when term starts,” Kyle responded.

[But it might have been moved by now, so ask the librarian to be sure. After all, I was made in 1943—itʼs been quite a while since then.]

Kyle stared at the line for a moment, his hand pausing slightly over the quill. Then he continued as if nothing had happened.

”Fifty years... I thought you were only a few years older than me!”

[In a way, I am,] Riddle replied. [I’m just a memory frozen at fifteen. Time doesn’t mean anything to me, so no matter how many years pass, I’ll always be fifteen.]

”Then you must be very lonely,” Kyle wrote.

[Not anymore, now that I have you as a friend.]

Another line quickly followed, but the handwriting was shaky, as if Riddle had been nervous while writing it:

[Will you be my friend?]

”Of course!” Kyle replied without hesitation. ”I’ve always wanted a friend like you—smart, kind, and someone who loves learning.”

[I’m really happy to hear that,] Riddle wrote back.

For the entire morning, Kyle and Riddle continued their conversation, Kyle’s handwriting growing faster and more casual as they went on. He asked Riddle questions about Charms, but more often he expressed regret that they couldn’t be real classmates.

As they exchanged thoughts, Riddle subtly started to probe for information about Kyle, drawing details from casual comments and questions. From the snippets Kyle revealed, Riddle began piecing together a portrait of his new ”friend.”

He saw that Kyle was clever, yes, but not nearly as clever as himself. Kyle’s good grades seemed to be due more to memorization than real understanding; he knew only what was written in his textbooks. His social circle was limited to two friends: one obsessed with wizard chess and the other fixated on Quidditch—both, in Riddle’s view, entirely unremarkable and people he wouldn’t have given a second thought to.

Most importantly, Riddle sensed a certain truth in Kyle’s words, not a fabricated story but a sincere, if vulnerable, glimpse into his life. This thrilled him. Kyle’s eagerness, his earnest desire for companionship—it was as if prey had willingly stepped into his hands, presenting itself for the taking.

To Riddle, someone like this was easy to handle. He could tell Kyle lacked any real sense of belonging and felt distanced from those around him. All Riddle needed to do was play the part of a good listener and supportive friend, and Kyle would likely confide in him all his secrets.

...

It wasn’t until late afternoon, when Riddle started asking questions about the outside world beyond the castle, that Kyle decided to end the conversation.

”Someone’s coming,” he wrote abruptly, closing the diary and putting down his quill.

He hastily scrawled his last message in the diary, then snapped it shut and tucked it casually into the box beside him. Standing up, Kyle stretched his wrists, feeling the stiffness from a morning spent writing.

As he suspected, Riddle was indeed skilled in Legilimency. At one point during their conversation, Kyle had felt a faint, unsettling sense of being watched. It was fleeting, just a brief sensation, but given his vigilance around Riddle, he’d picked up on it. Anyone less guarded might have missed it entirely.

More interestingly, Riddle wasn’t as composed as Kyle had expected. Kyle had assumed Riddle would play the long game, waiting patiently before trying to pry out information. But it was only the first morning, and Riddle was already angling to learn about the outside world, hinting at questions about who the most powerful wizard was, and whether Dumbledore was still the headmaster at Hogwarts. Kyle saw right through it: Riddle was trying to glimpse his own future.

If Dumbledore were still alive and active, it would mean Voldemort’s plans had ultimately failed. Conversely, if the most powerful wizard turned out to be Voldemort, then Riddle could assume his future self had succeeded. But of course, this was unlikely. Given that the diary had fallen into the hands of a young student, Riddle should have suspected that Voldemort had met some sort of downfall. After all, if he had triumphed, would his Horcrux have been so easily lost?

Clearly, Riddle’s true aim was to learn why his plans had failed. But before Riddle could press for more, Kyle had closed the diary, shutting down any further questioning.

Kyle walked over to the windowsill, rubbing the feathers on his owl Ratton’s neck thoughtfully. Riddle’s a bit more manageable than I’d expected. He had thrown down the first gauntlet, and if he kept control over their exchanges, he might be able to uncover useful information. Riddle would be keen to learn about Voldemort’s defeat in Godric’s Hollow, and Kyle knew this was valuable information he could use strategically.

He chuckled inwardly. No such thing as a free lunch, he thought. If Riddle wants answers, he’ll have to offer some in return.

“Kyle! Over here!”

Fred and George’s voices suddenly rang out from below. Kyle looked down to see the twins waving at him, holding their broomsticks. Behind them were Harry, Ron, and Ginny, all ready for a game of Quidditch on the hill.

“Do you want to join us?” Fred called up.

Kyle considered for a moment, then grabbed his Nimbus 2000 and headed downstairs.

“We were just talking about you this morning,” Fred said when Kyle joined them. “You’ve been busier than Percy lately!”

“It’s nothing,” Kyle replied casually. “I just came across something interesting the other day and wanted to read up on it.”

The others didn’t seem too curious.

“Are you done with it now?” George asked.

“More or less,” Kyle said, keeping it vague.

With the initial greetings over, Kyle’s mind settled. He’d taken his time with Riddle today, carefully guiding their first exchange. Riddle would likely dwell on Kyle’s responses, growing curious about Voldemort’s downfall and wanting to know more. But Kyle didn’t plan to touch the diary again for several days. He’d let Riddle simmer in his own questions, gradually building his curiosity.

After all, Kyle had time. There was no rush.