Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Thank you for your support of this story, and for your patience for the new chapter. I apologize for the long wait; I have had my hands very full with writing two original fantasy novels which I am currently putting the final editing touches on now. I should have more time to spend writing The Diary now, and hope to update much more frequently. If you would like to find out more about my original works or receive updates, I do maintain a writing blog at: .com . Thank you again for your patience!

Cedric's death hung heavy over Harry's head. As Tom grew sharper and felt more and more real, he started to feel his own grip on reality fading. Harry ghosted through his school days, waving off concern from Hermione, Ron, and Ginny as he pushed them away. He had too much to focus on-he couldn't afford the time to go to Madam Pomfrey, and didn't want to hear what she would have to say, anyway. Their concern shifted to frustration, and frustration blossomed to anger. His flimsy lies grew barbs and he found himself snapping at them. Often. Eventually, they left him alone.

"Harry, I'm worried about you." Tom walked beside him, as real as Ron or Hermione to Harry's eyes even if he knew it was just in his head. "The horcruxes are dangerous. Just the diary alone is taking a heavy toll on you. Your friends mean well, and they may be right. Forget I mentioned the horcruxes. Rest, and would you please eat something? What was the last meal you bothered to attend?"

"You sound like Hermione." Harry only half-regretted the face he made at the statement. He knew that Tom was right. He'd seen his ghostly-pale reflection in the mirror, and the dark circles like purple bruises beneath his green eyes. "I'm just not hungry."

"Not hungry?" Tom's eyes flashed with anger, and he stepped in front of Harry, blocking his path. "And I suppose you haven't been hungry for the past month, then?"

"That's about it, yeah."

"Harry, I am serious." Tom's stunning gaze narrowed into a smoldering glare, and he gripped Harry's shoulders. A flicker of dangerous rage crossed his expression.

"Tell me again about the shack."

"Absolutely not! Harry-!"

Whispers dragged Harry back to reality, and he blinked as Tom disappeared. Hermione and Ron stood to the side of the hall, speaking in hushed tones. Not hushed enough, though.

"-talking to himself again... Ron, we need to tell Dumbledore. Just look at him! ...wasting away. He is sick, Ron."

Ron's shoulders sagged in defeat. He looked like he wanted to be angry. Instead, he only nodded. "Yeah, okay." Those two words sounded so broken.

Harry clenched his teeth, strode past the two as he ignored the rest of their furtive conversation. He didn't need their concern. He was fine, no matter what Tom bloody said, or what Hermione said, or what anyone else said. He could eat later. He could sleep later. Right now he needed to find the ring. He needed to stop the twisted monstrosity that the horcruxes had left behind. His eyes burned as he remembered that hollow laugh and the cold sensation of stone against his skin in the fateful graveyard. He would not let anyone else die. He would not.

"Harry..."

He ignored the distant sound of Tom's voice, hurrying towards the library. He ignored the roar of static that rose to his ears, and the shadows that clung to the edge of his vision. He tried to press on, but even Tom's voice grew small inside his mind, an indecipherable whisper as darkness wrapped around him, and the world blinked away.

"...this is serious, indeed."

Harry's eyes blinked open, and he struggled to make sense of his fuzzy surroundings. The hospital wing came into focus slowly. He could just make out Madam Pomfrey leaving, and Dumbledore stood by his side, unusually silent and still. He peered down at Harry through his crescent lenses, waiting patiently for an explanation. Tom stood beside the headmaster, visible only to Harry as he looked down with an expression torn between sorrow and worry.

"Sorry, sir," Harry mumbled, scrambling for an excuse. "I haven't had much of an appetite lately... I guess it sort of caught up with me all at once. Really, I'm okay. Honest."

Guilt wrapped around his stomach at the lie, and his throat tightened with it. Dumbledore was only as fooled as Tom, which was to say not at all.

"Your friends are very worried for you," Dumbledore said, after a long pause. He reached over to a plate on a nearby table, and handed it to Harry wordlessly. A treacle tart rested on it, a sight that once would have made Harry's mouth water but now only made it twist painfully. Dumbledore pulled a chair next to the bed and took a seat. "Tossing and turning all night, mumbling in your sleep, not a bite to eat. Is there anything that you'd like to talk about, Harry?" The headmaster glanced over in Tom's direction, and fear seized at Harry's heart. He tried to remember how to breathe, reassuring himself that only he could see Tom.

Harry looked away. He couldn't face Dumbledore, not like this. "No, sir," he lied. The words tasted bitter in his mouth. Feeling the weight of two pairs of worried eyes resting on him, he nudged at the tart absently.

The silence stretched on painfully. "Be careful, Harry." Dumbledore stood, looking suddenly tired. "Secrets grow heavier with time. Take care that they do not bury you." He sighed, eyes flickering one last time towards Tom. "Do not be afraid to let your friends help you, and if you need me, you know where my office is."

Harry wished it was that easy. His shoulders sagged as the headmaster walked out of the hospital wing, leaving him and Tom alone.

"He's right, you know." Tom's voice was barely a whisper. He sat in the abandoned chair, and hesitated before reaching a hand over to rest atop Harry's. "Maybe... maybe you should tell someone. Before you get truly hurt."

Tears burned at Harry's eyes, and he cursed under his breath, sitting up to throw the blankets and Tom's hand off of him. "No." He scowled, striding across the hospital wing to head back to the dormitory while Madam Pomfrey was out. "Absolutely not. They'll take the diary away! Don't you understand?!" He glared back at Tom.

Tom reached out, grabbed his hand and pulled Harry to him. Dark anger flashed in his eyes as he fixed Harry's gaze. "Of course I understand, Harry! I understand far better than you do, I suspect. Look at yourself! I'd rather be alone again than risk your life like this. The diary is eating away at you. You can't handle the other horcruxes! I won't be responsible for killing you, Harry!" His fingers dug into Harry's shoulders.

"You'd just be finishing the job!" Harry shouted the accusation back, and instantly regretted it. Whatever fragile happiness and trust that had blossomed within Tom over the years shattered, and his eyes grew cold despite the shine of tears. Harry looked away. "Sorry, I didn't mean..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. When he turned back, Tom was gone.

He didn't wait for classes to finish. He didn't wait for the cover of night. Harry ran as fast as he could to the dorms, shoved the diary into his pocket, grabbed his broom, and pulled his invisibility cloak out. He pulled it around his shoulders just in time to see Ron walk through the door, mouth parted with a thousand questions as he saw his best friend disappear before his eyes.

"Harry... What the bloody hell is going on with you?" There was something in Ron's voice that made Harry's blood run cold. Fear.

"Sorry, Ron, I swear... I'll explain everything when I can. Just trust me for now, all right?" He wished he could tell Ron. He wished he didn't feel so bitterly alone, pushing away the last person on his side.

"Harry... we're best mates, right? You can tell me anything, honest..."

"I know, Ron." He pulled up the hood, and stepped past the redhead. While the other students grumbled through the remainder of their classes and his friends worried and wondered, Harry made his way through the castle, out the door, and was in the air before Ron had a chance to tell anyone he was missing. The wind whipped at him as he kept the invisibility cloak pulled close, and kept low amid the trees.

He would be at the shack before anyone was the wiser... and he would prove to Tom that he really could do this. He would not let anyone else die.