560 C560 Tom Riddle’s Diary

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Returning to the entrance hall of Gringotts, Peter and MJ faced the expectant gazes of James, Sirius, Walburga, Arcturus, and the defeated Dumbledore. The Hufflepuff cup, now devoid of its dark magic, was clutched in MJ's hand.

"Another one bites the dust," Peter announced, a casual smirk playing on his lips. MJ, standing beside him, added, "Yep, just one more to go."

James spoke up, curiosity etched on his face. "So, this wasn't the last Horcrux?"

Peter shook his head, dispelling any premature celebrations. "Nah, there's still one more. Voldemort's Diary. We take care of that, and we can finally off him." He says as the man himself floats restrained behind him.

A sense of determination settled among the group. Four Horcruxes had already been destroyed, and with just one remaining, the end of their quest seemed within reach.

Turning his attention to the defeated Dumbledore, Peter raised an eyebrow. "You coming along, old man?"

Albus, a mix of shock and reluctance in his expression, responded, "Why would you still invite me after what just happened?"

Peter shrugged nonchalantly. "As long as you're done trying to attack me and lecture me every chance you get, you're welcome to join. Just don't make me regret it or do, I don't really care either way."

Albus, torn between pride and the desire for redemption, hesitated before nodding. "I will accompany you," he declared, his tone carrying a hint of resignation.

Peter wasn't sure whether he chose to come along in order to wait for an opportunity to stop him, or take back his precious wand, but like he said, he didn't care. Albus may be a strong wizard, but that's only by this world's standards. Back in Kamar-Taj, he couldn't even be considered a low level master.

Whether he plotted against Peter or not just didn't matter, because in the end his strength was inconsequential.

…

With everyone on board, a small sense of camaraderie emerged, despite the lingering tension. "Alright, let's head out." Peter's magic infused the air as he gestured, conjuring a shimmering portal. The swirling vortex beckoned them to their next destination.

Albus, despite his recent defeat, couldn't help but marvel at the wonders of Peter's form of magic. He couldn't help but think, "If only he weren't a heartless murderer…"

Stepping through the portal, the group found themselves in the front yard of a large mansion. Malfoy Manor, an imposing structure that showed how wasteful a family could be with their money. The Malfoy family, known for their allegiance to Voldemort, resided within its opulent walls.

As the group stepped out of the portal, the air seemed to thicken with an ominous presence. The manor's grandeur and foreboding aura struck a chord of discomfort among the group.

The surroundings were instantly familiar to the three members of the Black family, Arcturus, Walburga, and Sirius. Narcissa Black, after all, had been married off to Lucius Malfoy, the next head of the Malfoy family.

Realizing what might happen, Arcturus turned to Peter with pleading eyes, "Please spare my Granddaughter, Narcissa. Her parents married her off into the Malfoy family against her will. She's most likely inside. I've seen what you can do, and I don't her to meet the same fate as those Goblins."

Walburga, despite her usual disdain, added her voice to the request, "Indeed. We may not see eye to eye, but I won't have my kin die by your hand."

Even Sirius, whose relationship with his family was strained, shared the same sentiment. He couldn't bear the thought of Narcissa suffering the same fate as those who fell at Gringotts.

Hearing their plea, Dumbledore couldn't resist letting out a contemptuous snort. The sudden concern for lives seemed hypocritical compared to their earlier indifference to the goblin massacre. Peter, however, simply nodded in acknowledgment.

"I won't kill Narcissa," Peter agreed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But I can't promise she won't get a good beating if she decides to attack me. Equal rights, equal fights… I'm a feminist after all."

His response earned a laugh from the men in the group, but Albus Dumbledore's disapproval lingered, his eyes silently begging for a lecture to be unleashed.

With the agreement in place, it was time to venture into Malfoy Manor. Peter, confident in his abilities, led the way. Bypassing the manor's protective wards effortlessly, he approached the imposing front door and knocked.

Soon enough, the door creaked open, revealing the grandeur of Malfoy Manor's interior. Opulent chandeliers, exquisite tapestries, and dark corridors hinted at the luxurious but sinister atmosphere that permeated the home of the Malfoy family.

"Does the guests have an invitation?" A voice called out as everyone looked down, finding a small elf stood before him, dressed in an old, worn-out pillowcase.

[Insert Picture of Dobby here]

Smiling down at the young elf, whom he was fairly sure was Dobby, Peter shook his head and said, "No need for an invitation, little buddy." With that, he waltzed right into the opulent Malfoy Manor, the rest of the group following suit.

Instantly, Dobby panicked and ran after them, yelling, "You's can't be here! Dobby will get in trouble!" The urgency in Dobby's voice only fueled their curiosity as they continued into the mansion.

'So it is Dobby… Maybe I should hire him once this is over?' Peter thought as he turned to Dobby. "Hey, after I'm done dealing with your Master, do you want a job? I could use an elf like you back home. "

Before the shocked elf could even think of his reply, suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echoed through the manor. Rushing towards the source of the distressing sound, they descended into the depths of the home, arriving at the basement.

There, they were confronted with a gruesome scene. Abraxas Malfoy, the current head of the Malfoy family, stood amidst the shadows, wielding a whip. Innocent muggles were bound and helpless, enduring his sadistic torment, their skin breaking open with every lash. Abraxas laughed maniacally as he flailed his whip, leaving the victims in a bloody agony.

Peter, keen eyes catching sight of a familiar book in Abraxas's free hand, recognized it as Voldemort's Diary, the Horcrux they were seeking. A thought crossed his mind, 'Is the diary controlling him? Or is he just a psycho Death Eater?"

Taking a quick peak into the man's mind with his telepathy, Peter instantly regretted it as he found that he was indeed a psycho Death Eater. Yeah, the diary helped fuel his maliciousness, but it was already there long before Voldemort was born.

"Disgusting…" Peter thought as he pulled out of Abraxas's mind.

Finally, as the torment reached its peak, Abraxas turned to discover the unexpected guests. Shock painted his face as he shouted, "W-What are you doing in my house?!!" He said as he noticed Dobby running inside behind them, his face burning in fury. "Dobby?! Did you let them in without my permission?!"

Before the frightened elf could respond, Peter vanished from where he stood, reappearing beside the bloodied muggles. Employing his magical prowess, he used his powers to heal them and alleviate their pain. The victims, sighing in relief, experienced a form of comfort they never thought possible.

Abraxas, still bewildered, eyed Peter with a mix of confusion and anger. Not only did these intruders dare to enter his house uninvited, but now they even went so far as to heal his slaves, whom he took so much time brutalizing. It was like all of his work and effort was being taken away.

Angered, Abraxas wound back his whip and lashed out at Peter, the leather snapping through the air with malicious intent. However, just as the whip was about to make contact, Peter reached back with lightning reflexes and seized it, surprising Abraxas. With a forceful yank, Peter pulled Abraxas across the room, positioning him on his knees squarely at his feet.

As Abraxas stumbled, his grip loosened, causing the diary he held to fall a few feet away. Without a word, Peter summoned magical restraints, swiftly binding Abraxas in a manner similar to how he had done with the muggles. The once-tyrant now found himself at the mercy of his own malevolence.

With the whip now in his possession, Peter approached the healed muggles. He released them from their bindings and handed them the whip, gesturing towards the now-bound Abraxas and stating, "He's all yours."

Instantly, a fire ignited in their eyes, fueled by a desire for retribution.

Silently, without hesitation, one of them seized the whip, the roles now reversed. "Wait! Wait! Stop!" Abraxas yelled as he realized what was happened, but it was too late.

The echoing cracks of the whip filled the air, each lash delivering a measure of justice. Abraxas, who had reveled in the torment of innocent lives just moments ago, now found himself the target of his own sadistic creation.

The tables had turned, and the manor echoed with the poetic justice of Abraxas Malfoy experiencing the pain he had inflicted on others.

The group watched this take place, many wincing every time the whip was brought down, though they didn't speak out. Just like at the bank, they didn't agree with how Peter handled things. The only one of them that might disagree was Albus, but he's learned to keep his mouth shut by now.

Peter, watching the scene unfold, stood with an air of satisfaction. He retrieved the fallen diary, the book quivering in fear as he laid his hands on it.

Raising a single brow, Peter smirked, "What's the matter, Tom? Scared?" He asked this, and instantly, an ethereal figure of a teenage schoolboy materialized beside him.

[Insert picture of Tom Riddle here]

"H-How do you know who I am?!" He asks, his eyes widening in horror as he notices Dumbledore, eyeing him from across the room.

A/N: 1633 words :)

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