Lockhart took Malfoy to the hospital wing, while Snape stayed behind, grabbing the petrified Ron by the arm.
"I didn't mean to do it." Ron's hands trembled as he kept repeating, "I didn't know what that spell did... I thought..."
"You thought?"
Snape's black eyes bore into Ron. "You thought it was some sort of game? A way to show off?"
"I suppose you didn't stop to think with that brain of yours, which isn't much smarter than a troll's, about the consequences of casting a deadly spell, did you, Weasley?"
"I didn't want to kill Malfoy!" Ron shouted, his voice trembling. "I didn't!"
But Snape was unmoved. He sneered, "I've clearly underestimated you, Weasley."
In a calm voice, he asked, "Who taught you that Dark Magic spell?"
"I... I saw it myself," Ron muttered, his head hanging low.
"Where?"
"In... in a book from the library," Ron swallowed hard, "I can't remember the name..."
"Liar. Look into my eyes!" Snape's voice was icy.
"That kind of Dark Magic is only found in the Restricted Section. How did you get in? Who signed your permission slip?"
Ron's throat was dry. He took a step back and stammered, "Professor Lockhart."
"Lockhart? Ha! I'll be sure to ask him if he gave you a permission slip for the Restricted Section… Madam Pince keeps records—one minute is all it'll take to confirm whether you're lying..."
"I... I might have remembered wrong." Ron's legs trembled as he stared into Snape's unreadable black eyes, "Maybe I saw it at home."
"At home?" Snape laughed coldly, his voice dripping with malice.
"Mr. Weasley would be delighted to hear that. His family hiding books on Dark Magic, teaching them to their children... and let's not forget illegally modifying a Muggle car...
"I'd say, with your helpful contributions, not only will he lose his job, but he'll also get a complimentary seven-day trip to Azkaban."
Ron's face turned ashen. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stammered, "It was... It was a shop in Diagon Alley... an old bookstore!"
Snape stared coldly at Ron and spoke softly, "Weasley, you still don't understand the situation.
"Using Dark Magic to attack a classmate is enough to get you expelled... Do you know about the first Dark Lord?
"He was expelled from Durmstrang for nearly killing a student with Dark Magic."
"Dumbledore will be so pleased," Snape drawled, his voice full of mockery, "The beloved Weasley family... producing a Dark wizard."
"I'm not a Dark wizard!" Ron gritted his teeth, his hands clenched tightly around his wand. His voice emerged from his throat like a strangled cry.
It all felt like a disaster spiraling out of control, everyone was looking at him with strange eyes.
The kind of looks Harry used to get.
A mixture of fear... and disgust.
It wasn't supposed to be like this!
He was supposed to be admired and envied!
Damn it—
This wasn't what he wanted!
He had been told it was just a powerful spell, not one that could seriously harm anyone!
"You know what I think, Weasley?" Snape said softly, his tone deceptively gentle, "I think you're a liar. You here that? Yeah! A Lier!.
'I'm going to tell Dumbledore. I'll make sure he expels you."
Snape turned and swept out of the hall, his robes billowing behind him.
Ron stood frozen in place as the crowd murmured around him.
At that moment, he felt someone tug at the back of his robes.
"Come on," Harry whispered in his ear, "Let's go—hurry, let's go..."
Harry led him out of the Great Hall, followed by the Weasley twins and Percy. They all headed to the empty Gryffindor common room.
Fred pushed Ron into an armchair, and George asked, "Ron, where did you learn that Dark Magic?"
Faced with their questioning, Ron felt incredibly uncomfortable. He insisted, "I didn't learn it!"
"Was it me holding your wand and casting Dark Magic just now?" Fred's voice was sharp.
Percy was even more furious—he paced back and forth, stamping his feet. "I'm writing to Dad. You're going to ruin his career!
"And what's worse—I'm in sixth year, right in the middle of my campaign for Head Boy! What will Dumbledore think of our family now?"
Fred and George exchanged a glance and yelled in unison, "Shut up!"
The door opened again, and William entered with Hermione and Annie following behind him.
"Did you get any answers?" William asked the twins.
They both shook their heads.
"Ron, where did you learn Dark Magic?" William dragged a chair over and sat down.
He had originally planned to bring Luna along, her Legilimency was far superior to his.
She didn't even need direct eye contact, unlike him, who had just barely begun mastering the technique.
But after some thought, he decided against it.
Ron was clearly terrified, terrified that if he spoke the truth, he would be expelled, and Mr. Weasley would lose his job.
William figured he could try the legendary ultimate magic, the Talk-no-Jutsu.
"If you stay silent, Dumbledore won't know what really happened, and you will be expelled. Remember, the Malfoy family is one of the school governors," William calmly analyzed the situation.
"If you speak up and Dumbledore learns it wasn't your fault, he'll forgive you. You don't need to worry about Mr. Weasley's job ,Dumbledore will handle it.
"Didn't he already turn a blind eye when you and Harry brought that enchanted car to school?"
William's voice seemed almost magical. Slowly, Ron calmed down, the panic in his eyes fading.
He remained silent for a long time before covering his face with his hands, choking back sobs. "It was... a diary."
"A diary?"
"Tom Riddle's diary. I don't even know how it ended up in my book pile. For months, I've been writing in it... talking to it."
William's expression grew thoughtful.
A sentient magical object.
That wasn't exactly a rarity, things like the Sorting Hat, enchanted portraits, and even the Marauder's Map had similar properties.
The twins had spent an entire term studying the Marauder's Map, even holding conversations with it.
"And who is Tom Riddle?" William asked the crucial question.
Ron's voice sounded hollow as he whispered, "A student from fifty years ago. He was brilliant, top of his class, just like you."
"How do you know that?"
"Tom... he won a Special Award for Services to the School fifty years ago.
"When Filch made me polish the trophy case as detention, I saw his name on an old 'Award for Special Contribution' plaque, as well as on a Prefect's badge and a Head Boy list."
William nodded slightly. From that perspective, the diary's owner did seem to have an impeccable academic record.
Ron seemed to think so too. Since the diary's owner had won an award for special contributions to the school, he figured the person must have been a good wizard.
If it had been first-year William, he'd likely have thought the same, he might have even considered the diary to be a cheat item, a system boon, or some kind of transmigrator's benefit!
Of course! What transmigrator wouldn't assume that a magical diary was their personal "golden finger"?
Ron's voice grew hoarse. "At first, I just chatted with him, telling him about funny things that happened around me.
"Then... I asked him to help me with my homework. I handed all my assignments to him—he gave me the correct answers for everything."
William: "..."
Ron had obtained such a powerful magical diary... and had turned it into "homework help"? His thought process was truly baffling.
It was like Sun Wukong using his powers to freeze the Seven Fairies just to steal peaches!
"No wonder you've been finishing your homework so fast lately." Harry suddenly understood and felt a twinge of jealousy.
"Wait a minute—your assignments weren't even all correct," Hermione interjected, puzzled.
"I'm not stupid!" Ron rolled his eyes. "I purposely made some of the answers wrong!"
"...!"
Ron really was a bit of a clever fox after all.
"Then... I asked the diary if it could teach me Animagus transformation. It said yes..." Ron hesitated, "It even said it could teach me more powerful spells... I didn't know they were Dark Magic."
"Where's the diary now?"
"It's locked at the bottom of my trunk!" Ron blurted out.
The group quickly headed for the dormitory.
When they opened the door, the room was a mess, not the usual kind of mess, but as though someone had ransacked it.
Ron's area was in total disarray. The lock on his trunk had been smashed open, and its contents were scattered all over the floor.
Ron rushed over, his face pale. "The diary is gone! I left it at the very bottom of my trunk! Someone's been through my things!"
"What?!"
"My old wand is missing too, it was always in my trunk!"
Ron had been using the new wand Cedric had made for him, while the old one had been tucked away.
"What else is missing?" William asked.
Ron scanned the room frantically.
"Scabbers... Scabbers was in my bed when I left—he was sleeping soundly!"
Ron lifted his tattered blanket and froze in horror. "There's blood! There wasn't any here before!"
Ron collapsed onto the bed in despair.
"Someone must've come in to steal the diary. Scabbers must've bitten them to stop them... and then... they killed him!"
"My beloved Scabbers... You never even got to enjoy a life of comfort with me... and now you're gone... murdered so cruelly!"