After listening to Luna's words, Ron, who had been silently bowing his head, slowly lifted it, bit by bit. He looked at Luna and spoke, word by word:
"You all… why do you keep forcing me?! You're right. All of this—it was me!"
Hearing Ron's sudden and resolute confession, Hermione, who had been standing beside him, instinctively took a few steps back. She covered her mouth with both hands, a look of utter disbelief frozen on her face.
Then, without waiting for either Hermione or Luna to speak again, Ron began to explain on his own:
"That day, I happened to see Ginny secretly handing a diary to Wentworth. Of course, I only learned later that it was actually Cassandra, using Polyjuice Potion."
At this, Hermione, who had been watching in shock from the side, suddenly felt a flicker of familiarity. This… this felt like something she'd heard before.
Ron continued:
"So, I followed Wentworth. Eventually, I found the diary he had hidden away."
As he spoke, Ron pulled a worn black diary from inside his robes. Holding it up, he pointed at it and said:
"I never would've guessed that this diary was the key to opening the Chamber of Secrets. And more than that—it's powerful. It made me… stronger."
At Ron's words, not only did Luna's brows furrow deeply, but Hermione, too, sensed that something was wrong. Cautiously, she reached out toward the diary, her voice calm but probing:
"Really? Do you mind if I take a look? I'd like to see what makes this diary so special."
But as Hermione's hand neared the diary, Ron abruptly stepped back, clutching it tightly. His face twisted with anger.
"Get away! Take your filthy hands off, you dirty little Mudblood!"
The words struck like a curse. Hermione stood there, stunned. Even Ron himself froze, rooted to the spot, his expression blank with horror. In a barely audible voice, he muttered:
"No… no… that's not what I meant… That's not what I wanted to say… I didn't mean it…"
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes. She looked at her friend, heartbroken.
"Ron… I never thought… I never imagined you'd think like that. Is that really how you see me?"
Frantic, Ron waved his hands.
"No! You misunderstood, Hermione! I didn't mean that, I swear! I don't even know why I said it… but it wasn't me. It wasn't what I wanted!"
As Ron stumbled over his words, trying to explain, Luna—who had remained silent—pointed toward the diary.
"I think it's the diary. It must be enchanted. A magical object that manipulates the mind without you even noticing."
"That's probably why Wentworth chose to hide it rather than keep it close—he must've known."
Hearing Luna's reasoning, Hermione seemed to come to a decision. She reached out again, her voice steady.
"Ron! Give me the diary. If you hand it over, I'll go with you to explain everything to Dumbledore. Just like you said—it wasn't really you. That diary, it's twisted your mind!"
But to Hermione's dismay, Ron clutched the diary even tighter. No matter what she said, he refused to let go. Then, with a bitter smile, he said quietly:
"The truth is… even I don't know anymore. I don't know if I'm under its influence… or if everything I've done is just what I wanted to do all along."
Hermione's eyes widened. She looked at him—this friend she had known for years—and suddenly, he felt like a stranger.
And Ron kept talking:
"The first time I ordered the basilisk to attack—when I sent it after Colin Creevey—I kept telling myself it was because Colin was bothering Harry. That he was getting in Harry's way. That I was just helping a friend."
He paused. A long silence stretched between them.
Then Ron shouted, his voice breaking with fury:
"But deep down, I was asking myself—why?! Why is Harry so popular? What makes him so special?!"
His eyes blazed red. Seeing this sudden outburst, Hermione instinctively stepped back.
"Ron, please," she said softly, "don't be like this. We're your friends."
Ron laughed. Loud, manic, and bitter.
"Friends? We're friends? Oh yes, of course we are! Ron Weasley—how lucky I am! Such amazing friends I have!"
"Harry Potter! The Chosen One! My savior of a friend! Hermione Granger! The cleverest witch of our age! Draco Malfoy! The rich pure-blood prince!"
He jabbed a finger at his own chest, his voice rising in anger.
"And me? What am I? Just the invisible one. The sidekick. The comic relief. I exist only to make all of you shine brighter!"
Hermione stepped forward, tears streaming down her face.
"No, Ron, it's not like that! We all see you as one of our best friends. No one ever looked down on you! You've got it wrong. It's not your fault—it's the diary's! It's changed you! Please, give it to me. Let me take it to Dumbledore!"
But before she could finish, Ron stared at her, full of suspicion.
"You're just trying to steal it from me."
Before she could reply, Ron stuffed the diary back into his robes, muttering:
"No. No, you're not taking it. You're not taking it! This diary is my hope—you understand? Hope! My chance to be great!"
"Only the gifted walk among the gifted. I will become one of them. Better than all of you. Better than any of you!"
"Hermione, just watch! Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy—they'll all be beneath me! With this diary, nothing's out of reach!"
Hermione stood frozen, staring at him in despair.
"Ron… you've changed."
Ron's face lit up with wild conviction.
"Changed? Of course I've changed! This diary has made me stronger than I ever was!"
Seeing him in such a deranged state, Luna quietly gestured to Hermione and reached slowly for her wand.
Hermione, staring at the boy she once called a close friend, asked sorrowfully:
"How… how could a diary turn you into this? What has it been teaching you?"
Ron gave her a twisted grin.
"Why don't you take a guess?"
"Expelliarmus!"
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