Chapter 7:
Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived from their Christmas holidays. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and paced them around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.
Harry, Ron, Calla and Lena went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they brought her each day's homework.
"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.
"That's only because you don't like logic," Calla said while giggling, nudging him in the side.
"Don't be silly, Ron. I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.
"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.
"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time. Lena sighed.
"He's not that bad of a guy!" Lena said in defense, crossing her arms.
"Ha," Ron huffed. "You heard him in the common room, Lena. He still calls everyone not in Slytherin Mudblood. He hasn't changed!"
Lena looked at her sister for support, but Calla simply shrugged and waved her hand dismissively.
Don't get me into this, Calla Kelted to her sister. I'm the one trying to like him more for you. Lena sighed heavily and let the conversation end there.
"What's this?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.
"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:
"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."
Lena and Calla looked at each other and burst out into a fit of giggles, causing the trio to look up at them in surprise. Hermione narrowed her eyes at them.
"Sorry - Hermione -" Lena said, swallowing the laughter. "We just find it a bit ridiculous that anyone would find him legit." Calla nodded, covering her mouth to keep from laughing. Ron grinned at them and looked back at Hermione, a disgusted look on his face.
"You sleep with this under your pillow?" he asked, revolted.
Hermione was spared by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.
"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to the others as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them so much homework, that Lena and Calla just decided to help the two boys catch up on it and sleep in Fred and George's room for the night. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair-Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.
"That's Flich," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.
"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" the girls asked tensely. They stood still, their heads inclined toward Filch's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.
"-even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore -"
Lena and Calla sighed in relief.
"He's just going on about Moaning Myrtle flooding the bathroom again," Lena said,, resting her hand on her heart.
"He mumbles to himself most of time when she does it," Calla explained, seeing the boys' expressions. "I guess this time he's just done."
They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Flich had been shouting about. Sure enough, a great flood of water stretched from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.
"Now what's up with her?" said Ron, looking at the girls. They shrugged.
"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its OUT OF ORDER sign, ignored it as always, and entered.
Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.
"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.
"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"
Lena and Calla looked at each other in confusion. Who would throw something at Myrtle?
Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"
"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"
Why would someone throw a book? Calla Kelted to the others, raising her eyebrow.
Unless something was wrong with the book… Lena said, thinking.
Harry and Ron looked back at them and shook their heads.
Not the time to question, guys! Harry said, warningly.
Calla shrugged. Sorry! Couldn't help it!
"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?" Lena and Calla looked at each other and sighed.
Evidently, Harry had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!" The Lockhart sisters shook their heads disapprovingly at the ghost.
You know she is sensitive, Harry, don't you? Lena said.
"He didn't mean anything, Myrtle," Calla explained calmly, trying to console the whining ghost.
"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.
"I don't know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out…"
Harry and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.
"What?" said Harry.
"Are you crazy?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."
Lena and Calla looked at each other, then at the book.
How can a book be dangerous, Ron? Calla Kelted to him.
"Dangerous," said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"
"You'd be surprised," said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated - Dad's told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with you nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And -"
"All right, we've got the point," said Harry and Calla. Calla looked rather irksome, thinking that a simple book could cause so much trouble.
The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.
"Well, we don't find out unless we look at it," he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor.
Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name "T.M. Riddle" in smudged ink.
"Hang on," said Ron, who approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name… T.M Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago." The girls looked at each other curiously, and stayed close behind Harry, looking at the old book.
"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement.
"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. Calla and Lena giggled. He looked at them grimly. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too." Calla rested a consoling hand on Ron's shoulder.
Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even Auntie Mabel's birthday, or dentist, half-past three.
"He never wrote on it," said Harry, disappointed.
Why would someone want to flush it away when no one wrote in it?" Lena asked, looking at the empty pages.
Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.
"He must've been Muggle-born," said Harry, thoughtfully. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…"
"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose."
Calla and Lena did not find this amusing as Harry pocketed the book. When they left the bathroom, the two immediately hit Ron on the side of the head for being insensitive.
Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T.M. Riddle's diary and told her the story of how they had found it.
"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.
"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ron. "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry."
"Because there's a reason someone chucked it in the first place, Ron," Lena explained simply.
"We just want to figure out why they did," Calla added. Ron sighed.
Harry nodded in confirmation. "I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it," he said. "I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."
Ron shrugged. "Could've been anything," he said. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor…" Again, Lena and Calla hit Ron for being insensitive.
"What?" Ron asked irritably. "I'm just speaking truthfully…"
Lena and Calla shook their heads disapprovingly, narrowing their eyes at the ginger-haired boy.
"She still has feelings, Ron," Calla said simply, crossing her arms over her chest.
"The reason why she's the way she is is because of the way everybody treats her." Lena explained. Harry raised an eyebrow at them and sighed.
"What's up, Harry, Hermione?" Calla asked, seeing the looks on their faces.
"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" Harry said. "That's what Malfoy said."
"Yeah…" said Ron slowly.
"And this diary is fifty years old," said Hermione tapping it excitedly.
Lena and Calla realized what they were saying immediately and nodded with enthusiasm. They looked at Ron, who looked back at them.
"So?" he said.
"Oh, Ron, wake up," snapped Hermione. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T.M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award or catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything -"
"But there's nothing written in it," Lena said, sighing. Calla nodded.
"It might be invisible ink!" she whispered.
She tapped the diary three times and said, "Aparecium!"
Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her back and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.
"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said.
She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.
"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."
There was something important in that diary, Harry was sure of it. He kept picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish.
Harry was determined to find out more about Riddle, so next day at break, he headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle's special award, accompanied by an interested Hermione, Lena and Calla, and a thoroughly unconvinced Ron.
Riddle's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it had been given to him ("Good thing, too, or it'd be even bigger and I'd still be polishing it," said Ron). However, they did find Riddle's name on an old Medal of Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boys.
"He sounds like Percy," said Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Prefect, Head Boy… probably top of every class -"
"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Hermione in a slightly hurt voice. Lena and Calla rested a hand on her shoulders.
"Percy isn't that bad, Ron," Lena said, defending Ron's older brother.
"Just because he's smart, doesn't automatically make him a prick," Calla explained simply.
Ron said nothing, thinking better than interjecting what he really thought. He didn't want to get hit on the head again.
The sun had begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacked since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.
Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years…
Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Harry was the guilty one, that he head "given himself away" at the Dueling Club. Peeves wasn't helping matters; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh Potter you rotter…" now with a dance routine to match.
Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. This made the Lockhart siblings burst out laughing when Harry told them what he overheard their uncle telling Professor McGonagall.
"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."
"Gilderoy - stopping a vicious monster?!" Ethan had choked through his laughter.
"That'd be the day when pigs fly!" Evie exclaimed, holding her stomach.
"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"
Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he'd walked through the wrong doors.
The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting, looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles. The Lockhart siblings had taken to sit next to Fred and George, getting a better look at the High Table, where their uncle sat, seeing what he was up to.
"What's going on?" Harry asked Lena and Calla, sitting down and wiping confetti off his bacon.
They pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The sisters sighed heavily.
"He's trying to make a point or something…" Lena sighed.
"And a rather ridiculous one at that," Calla added, through a mouthful of fried egg.
The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't stop here!"
Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarves. Not just any dwarves, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps. Like a dozen Cupids. Calla choked on her juice, and Fred patted her on the back, chuckling.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be moving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enhancements than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"
This caused an uproar with the four Ravenclaw siblings, choking on their laughter.
"Sly old dog!" Calla said, covering her mouth. "What is he playing at?" She looked up at her uncle.
Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.
"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," said Ron as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.
"We'll see you guys in class," Calla and Lena told the trio as Fred and George guided them through the corridor.
In spirit of the day, Peeves snuck up behind the quartet of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, focused on mainly Fred and Calla, Fred having an arm around Calla's shoulders. The Poltergeist started to sing while flying close to them.
"Weasley and Lockhart
You rarely see the two apart.
This makes us all question,
The feelings inside their hearts."
George and Lena burst out laughing at this notion. Peeves, however, was not finished.
"The way they feel
It truly shows
Will one ask the other?
Nobody knows."
Fred and Calla looked at each other and burst out laughing as well, though Calla glared at the ghost. Peeves simply grinned and stuck his tongue out at her. Fred squeezed her shoulder.
Ignore him, Cal, he Kelted to her. Always causing trouble, you know. She looked at him and saw that he was grinning from ear to ear, though he looked down at the floor. She sighed heavily and shook it off, ignoring the ghost as he started to sing it for a second time.
When the trio had reached Charms, they all looked flustered. They took their seats next to Lena and Calla, Ren and Eleanor sitting on their shoulders.
"What happened?" Lena asked as they sat down.
Harry told them the tale of Ginny Weasley's valentine that was sung to him in the corridor just a few seconds before he walked in. How Malfoy had taken Riddle's diary (Lena had sighed heavily as Harry explained this), and how he, Harry, had to disarm Draco in order to get the diary back. He also mentioned how Ron had heroically caught the diary once Harry had disarmed the platinum blond wannabe.
After this lengthy explanation, Harry receded to taking out his materials for class.
"What happened to your stuff?" Lena asked, eyeing the red ink-covered materials that Harry took out of his bag. Everything but T.M. Riddle's diary was drenched in scarlet ink. Harry tried to point this fact out to Ron, but Ron was having trouble with his wand again, large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, causing the Lockhart sisters to try and pop the bubbles while Hermione shook her head with a disapproving look.
The Lockhart siblings decided to take their pets and sleep Fred and George's room that night, for really no reason at all except to see George give Harry a hard time about Ginny's valentine in the common room. He kept singing "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad," sometimes having a chorus of Fred and the Lockharts trying, (and failing) to harmonize with him. Ron was laughing along with them the entire time, but saw that it bothered Harry, so didn't join in.
Fred, George, and the Lockhart siblings departed to the dormitory shortly after Harry had left. As soon as they entered the room, Ren and Eleanor flew onto the twin's beds, Orion curled in Ethan's arms, and Hercules jumped from the dresser, to each four-poster bed, and chose to sit on the windowsill rather snugly.
"I kind of feel bad about giving Harry a hard time," Evie said suddenly, gaining the entire group's attention.
"Oh, it's no big deal," George said, waving his hand dismissively, walking to the bathroom to change.
"Harry knows we're only messing with him," Fred said, going in after George had walked back into the room fully clothed in flannel. Calla and Lena nodded while Ethan stroked Orion's fur absently.
. . .
During this time, Harry sat on his four-poster flicking through the blank pages of Riddle's diary not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle of ink out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.
The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Harry loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."
The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without a trace. Then, at last, something happened.
Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Harry had never written.
Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?
These words, too, faded away, but not before Harry had started to scribble back.
"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."
He waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.
Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.
"What do you mean?" Harry scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.
I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"That where I am now," Harry wrote quickly. "I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"
His heart was hammering. Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.
Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. they gave me a nice, shiny, engrave trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned.
Harry nearly upset his bottle in his hurry to write back.
"It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"
"I can show you, if you like," came Riddle's reply. "You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."
Harry hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.
"Let me show you."
Harry paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters.
"OK."
Harry saw the pages blow as though caught in a high wind. Harry sat with his mouth gaping open, staring as the pages flipped through to about halfway through the month of June. Harry saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forward; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed, and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.
He felt his feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking, as the blurred shapes around him came suddenly into focus.
The diary had took him into a memory. A real memory. He was in what looked to be Dumbledore's office - but Dumbledore was not the headmaster fifty years ago. This memory would be taking him through Riddle's version of events. Harry found out that Riddle's first name was Tom, and that he was not able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer. He told the tale of his mother and father to headmaster. The headmaster explained, rather exasperatedly, that due to the recent attacks, it would be ridiculous to suggest that Tom stay for the holiday.
Harry followed Riddle down the moving spiral staircase. They reached the entrance hall, only to find a tall wizard with long, sweeping auburn hair and a beard called to Riddle from the marble staircase. It was Dumbledore. He kept a close eye on Tom, as if suspecting him of something. He ordered for Riddle to go to bed. Obviously, the young boy did not obey. Harry followed Tom to the very dungeon Snape taught Potions in. He tiptoed along, forgetting that he couldn't be heard, only to stop when Riddle heard voices through a door that he had opened.
It was Hagrid.
Riddle accused the huge outline of a boy on the attacks, thinking that whatever Hagrid had been hiding was the monster behind it all. Harry saw Hagrid leap at Tom, seize his wand and yell "NOOOOOOO!"
The scene whirled. In a few moments, Harry was dizzily inside his Gryffindor dormitory, on his four-poster, with Riddle's diary lying open on his stomach. Before he had had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.
"There you are," he said.
Harry sat up. He was sweating and shaking.
"What's up?" said Ron, looking at him with concern.
"It was Hagrid, Ron. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."
The girls woke up that morning to a knock on the twin's dormitory door.
"Lena? Calla?" Came Harry's voice on the other side. The girls looked at each other. Nobody else was awake yet; Ethan and Evie were still sprawled out on either side of them, and the twins were hidden in the curtains of their four-posters. Calla was the one to walk over to the door and open it.
"Morning, Harry, Ron," she said sleepily, looking back at her sister. As she did so, she saw Fred and George shifting in their four-posters. Lena came up beside her, waving at Harry and Ron with a sleepy Ren cradled in her arms. "What's up?" Calla said.
"We have something to tell you and Hermione," Ron said before Harry could speak. Harry nodded.
"Did something happen?" Lena asked immediately.
"It's hard to explain," Harry replied, "But there is an explanation. When we get Hermione, we'll tell you guys." The sisters looked at each other.
Lena set Ren down on the floor and the sisters followed Harry and Ron to the girls' dorms to find Hermione's room. Thankfully she was already awake, so she opened the door.
"You will not believe what I found out last night," Harry said.
"Something about the Chamber?" Hermione questioned, closing the door behind her as they all headed down the corridor to the common room.
"Yes," Calla answered, a slight smile on her face.
They all knew that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. During their first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before they forgot the giant, three-headed dog he'd christened "Fluffy". And if, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hiding somewhere in the castle, He'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; Harry could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a leash and collar on it. But he was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.
Again and again, Ron and Hermione made Harry recount the events that he had seen the previous night.
"It just doesn't sound like Hagrid," Calla said. "Yes, he likes large, magical creatures…. but he would never kill anyone…" Calla and Lena were still trying to make sense of the idea that Harry had dived into a world from a simple diary. Yes, they were in a school for magic, but some things still struck them as odd.
"Riddle might have had the wrong person," said Hermione. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people…"
"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Harry miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his award."
Ron tried a different tack.
"Riddle does sound like Percy - who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?" Lena narrowed her eyes at him.
"But the monster had killed someone, Ron," said Hermione.
"And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts," said Harry. "I don't blame him for wanting to stay here…"
"You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?" Calla questioned.
"He was buying Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," said Harry quickly.
The five of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.
"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?"
"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ron. "'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'" Calla nudged him in the ribs for this comment.
"It was a simple question, Ron," Calla said curtly.
In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Peeves had finally got bored of his, "Oh Potter, you rotter" song, Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.
"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Harry. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing."
The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, and the Lockhart siblings, took very seriously.
"It could affect our whole future," Hermione told Harry and Ron as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.
"I just want to give up Potions," said Harry.
"We can't," said Ron gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I'd've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked.
"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," said Ron. "I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose."
Lena and Calla laughed at this. "Do you honestly think Gilderoy will be staying after this year is over?" Calla questioned. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the sisters. They raised their hands above their heads in defense.
"Hermione," Lena said, "He honestly is a squib," the rest of the Lockharts nodded.
Percy was the only one who was willing to give advice to Harry for picking out his classes. "Depends on where you want to go, Harry," he said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them - look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry."
Ethan and Evie were given their classes since they were only going to be second years. Lena and Calla considered what Percy had said, and took Hermione's route, signing up for every class, including Divination, which they were rather curious about.
Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training session were getting better, or at least dier, and the evening before Sunday's match he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better.
Lena and Calla were sitting at a table with Ron and Hermione, working on their homework. They saw Harry walk in and waved. This moment was short-lived, because Neville Longbottom saw Harry on his way downstairs from the dorm.
"Harry - I don't know who did it - I just found -"
Lena and Calla looked at each other with worried expressions and walked over to where Harry was, Ron and Hermione close behind. Neville looked at the others fearfully, and pushed open the door. Lena and Calla gasped as they saw the storm that had evidently been started in the room
The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress. Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. As he and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly.
"What happened, Harry?"
"No idea," said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out.
"Someone's been looking for something," said Ron. "Is there anything missing?"
Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk, Lena and Calla felt hands on their shoulders and looked behind them. Fred and George had snuck up to where they were. It was only as Harry threw the last of the Lockhart books back into his trunk that he realized what wasn't there.
"Riddle's diary is gone," he said in an undertone to the others.
"What?" they said together.
We'll explain later, Lena and Calla Kelted to Fred and George, having left them standing in front of Harry and Ron's dormitory door. They hurried down to the Gryffindor common room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called Ancient Rune Made Easy.
Hermione looked aghast at the news.
"But - only a Gryffindor could have stolen - nobody else knows our password -"
"Exactly," said Harry.
Sunday morning brought everyone bright sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze. Calla opened the windows to their dorm to let the wonderful air in for one of the rare times since they had been at Hogwarts. Lena had just remembered the piece of paper that Draco had given her a while ago, and took it out of her pocket. It was an article on a creature called a Basilisk. She showed this to Calla, who read it and looked up at her sister with an eyebrow raised.
"This could explain many things," Calla said. "But how, and where, did Draco get this information?" Lena shrugged.
"He didn't even tell me what it was about," Lena explained. "He just gave it to me."
"Let's go and show Hermione," Calla said as she put her hair up and placed a red and gold bandana as a headband in spirit of the match.
The four Lockhart siblings filed down the stairs of the dormitory to the common room, only to be greeted by Cho Chang, who accompanied them to the Great Hall and sat down across from them at the Ravenclaw table with Luna Lovegood next to her.
"Hermione isn't at the Gryffindor table," Lena said in an undertone to Calla, who looked behind her when she said this.
"Go ask Harry where she is," Calla said simply, tucking into the scrambled eggs her plate.
Lena got up and walked over to Harry, who looked up at her and smiled.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I was wondering where Hermione is," Lena said, holding the piece of paper in her hand so that no one could see. Harry raised his eyebrow.
"She just went to go to the library," Ron explained. "Said she's figured out something."
"Thanks!" Lena said happily, "I'll see you guys later, alright?" The two boys nodded, and she waved goodbye to Fred and George, who simply nodded in her direction. She headed off to the library, glancing at Draco Malfoy as she left the Great Hall.
Tell me what Hermione thinks of it, Calla Kelted to her sister, when Cho said something about Lena rushing out.
"She's just going to show Hermione something she found earlier," Calla said simply to her siblings.
Later that morning, everyone was sitting in the bleachers of the Quidditch pitch. Calla searched for Hermione and Lena, but had no sign of them. She got worried, because there had been no reply from Lena about the article. She brushed it off, refusing to believe that anything was wrong, though she felt the warmth of the lily pendant under her robes. The crowd cheered as the teams walked onto the pitch. Evie and Ethan had taken to shouting "Harry!" every time they saw him fly.
What surprised Calla the most was when Professor McGonagall walked onto the grass, a grim expression on her face, a purple megaphone in hand.
"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.
"But Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play - the cup - Gryffindor -"
Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through the megaphone.
"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of House will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"
Calla, Evie and Ethan followed Ron through the complaining crowd to where Harry was. Harry looked at them with a confused expression. Professor McGonagall did not question this.
"Ah, Weasley, Lockharts… yes, you'll want to come along as well…" she said grimly. Calla's heart sank. She looked at Fred, who was flying down to the pitch with George.
Something's happened to Lena and Hermione… Calla said to the twins silently. They looked at each other and then at McGonagall, who nodded her head at them. They could come along as well.
"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack… a triple attack…" Harry's insides did a horrible somersault. Calla's heart sank deeply into the pit of her stomach.
Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth-year girl with long, curly hair. Harry recognized her as a Ravenclaw they'd accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was…
"Hermione!" Ron groaned
"Lena…" Calla choked, staring at her sister's lifeless form. She looked at the other form next to Hermione. "Penelope?" Calla said with a gasp. Professor McGonagall nodded her head grimly.
"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose any of you could explain this? It was on the floor next to them…"
She was holding up a small, circular mirror.
They all shook their heads, looking down at the two lifeless forms. Calla felt Fred's arm around her shoulders. George kept her siblings close to him, a hand on either of their shoulders as they stared, wide-eyed. Calla looked from Hermione to Lena and back again. Hermione was holding her arm up to the sky, her hand in a small fist.
"I shall escort you all back to Gryffindor Tower," Professor McGonagall said. "Fred, George,," she said, looking at the twins consoling the three siblings, "Escort the Lockharts to Ravenclaw where Professor Flitwick will explain to you what happens now." The twins nodded, obeying their Head of House. Calla made the quick decision to hug Harry and Ron before they left.
When they reached Ravenclaw Tower and entered the common room, it was filled with silent, scared faces. Cho and Marcus beckoned the group over to them on the couch where they sat, waiting for Professor Flitwick to say what he needed to say. The professor in question stood on one of the desks in the middle of the room, with all eyes on his small and stubby form.
"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock every evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities." Professor Flitwick squeaked to the entire room. Once he had finished, Marcus had to help him down from the desk. Calla walked up to the professor and looked down at him desperately.
"Professor Flitwick?" Calla said, to which the elf looked up with a small smile on his face.
"Ah, Miss Lockhart," he said gently. "What is it?"
"I was wondering if me, Ethan and Evie could stay with Fred and George for the time being," Calla explained, playing with the pendant that hung around her neck nervously. "We all agreed that it feels off without Lena in the room…"
Professor Flitwick nodded once and tried his best to smile at her.
"Under these unfortunate circumstances," he squeaked, "I am allowing you and your siblings to stay with the Weasleys for the rest of the time being, until we find out who is attacking the students."
Calla looked gratefully at her professor. "Thank you," she said with a weak smile on her lips, as tears threatened to fall.
"You are, of course, welcome to come back anytime as you wish," Flitwick added as she walked back to her siblings. They nodded at him and thanked him.
"Come on," Fred said lightly, "Let's get your stuff."
The twins waited patiently for the group of siblings to pack up their trunks in their dorm. They even took Merlin, their owl, in his cage. The quintet walked out of the room once it was rather clear of extra things lying around, and journeyed to Gryffindor Tower. Calla was on the verge of tears the entire time, but did not dare let them drop, for the sake of her siblings. Fred kept his arm around her as they walked, George manning Ethan and Evie.
They arrived in the Gryffindor common room, welcomed by the talking of everyone inside. Harry and Ron walked up to them and helped them with their stuff.
"Thanks," Calla said in a quiet voice, as they reached Fred and George's room. Harry rested a hand on her shoulder.
"It'll be alright," he said, consoling her.
When they went back to the common room, Lee Jordan was counting off the people that have henceforth been petrified. "That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, two Ravenclaws, and one Hufflepuff," he counted them off with his fingers. "Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.
"Because that would be inconsiderate," Calla said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "And it would look ill-informed on the school's part." Some people looked at her like she was crazy, which she ignored, but others nodded their heads in realization. "Just because someone is in Slytherin, does not automatically make them a prick," she said in finality, sitting down on the couch in front of the fire next to Fred and George. Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. he was looking pale and stunned.
"Percy's in shock," George told them quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect." Calla nudged him in the side, to which he looked at her and shrugged. Fred sat back down on the couch and handed her a glass of water.
What are we going to do? Calla Kelted to Harry and Ron, voicing their thoughts. They looked at her and shrugged.
Do you think they suspect Hagrid? Ron questioned. Calla took a sip of water as Fred slid his arm around her shoulders. She looked at him with a grateful smile.
I don't think they do. I really don't think Hagrid would do this, Calla finally replied, looking back at the two boys.
We've got to go and talk to him, Harry said, making up his mind. I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start.
You guys go, Calla said. I can't really talk to anyone right now. They saw the look in her eyes and nodded once, getting up to leave the room.
We'll see you tomorrow, Calla, Harry said as they went up to the dormitory.
Harry and Ron went to their dorm to retrieve Harry's Invisibility Cloak in order to walk down to Hagrid's hut. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit him without anyone knowing about it. They went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean, and Seamus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again, and threw the cloak over themselves.
The two boys went, wearily, down to Hagrid's hut in the dark. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open.
They reached Hagrid's only to be welcomed by him aiming a crossbow at them. Only when Fang barked from behind him did he know that it was them. He was expecting someone. Soon, Dumbledore had arrived at the front door with a very odd-looking man, who happened to be Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. He was wearing a strange mixture of clothes; a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime green bowler hat. Hagrid was nervous and sweaty.
Cornelius Fudge had arrived there in order to discuss bad business with Hagrid. He indirectly accused Hagrid of the attacks on the students at Hogwarts. Dumbledore gave his confidence in Hagrid, explaining that to Fudge. The minister explained that Hagrid's record was against his chances. They were going to take Hagrid somewhere for a short stretch of time, not as a punishment, but as a precaution.
"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.
There was another loud rap on the door. Dumbledore answered. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out an audible gasp.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long, black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl. Hagrid shouted at Draco's father to get out of his house. Mr. Malfoy stated that he was there for Dumbledore and that he would have to step aside as headmaster of the school, for the time being. Fudge looked as though he knew nothing of this and spluttered his words at Lucius. Dumbledore explained that if the governors wanted his removal, that he would step aside.
Of course, this met utter and complete shock from the Minister and Hagrid.
"However," said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
After Harry and Ron had left the common room a few hours earlier, Calla looked at Fred and George.
"I want to go and see Lena," she said. It was only five o'clock, so they could not stop her from seeing her sister. The twins nodded.
"Would you want us to come with you?" Ethan and Evie questioned, looking at their older sister, Evie's eyes damp with tears that she had been able to shed. Calla shook her head.
"You guys stay here," she said, her voice of shaky finality. "You guys stay here with Fred and George, alright? I'll be back soon." Fred squeezed her shoulders.
I'll be careful, she Kelted to her siblings as she hugged them before she left the common room.
Calla walked swiftly, looking around every corner of the castle, which was surprisingly empty at this hour apart from a few prefects that were prowling the corridors. She arrived at the infirmary only a few minutes later, to find a sad looking Draco Malfoy standing at the edge of Lena's bed. She tilted her head in confusion, completely forgetting her hatred for him because of what happened to her sister.
"Draco?" she said, walking into the hospital. Draco looked up in surprise, only to scowl when he saw Calla. She sighed heavily, and quickly wiped her tears out of her eyes when she saw Lena.
"I have a right to visit my sister, Draco," she said, "So stop scowling at me." Calla looked at Lena, and saw something shiny on her nightstand. Something that hadn't been there before. A small, silver chained bracelet with a smooth, marble-looking charm hanging from it. A note lay under its weight.
"Fine," Draco said thinly. Calla smiled slightly and looked back at the petrified Lena.
"What do you have against me, anyway?" Calla asked, looking at the platinum blond boy and crossing her arms. "It's not like I did anything to you." He raised an eyebrow at her, and scowled. She sighed. "Again with the scowling… you keep doing that and your face will stay that way forever, you know." Calla figured that if she was nice to him now, while Lena was petrified, that they could surprise her when she was revived. She explained this to Draco, to which he shrugged.
"It's an… idea," he said, folding his arms. He looked at Lena.
"You're just going to have get over the fact that I'm a half-breed," Calla said simply, looking at him. "But if you can get over it with Lena, you should be okay."
And you'll also have to get over the fact that we're both friends with the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry, alright? Calla Kelted in finality. Draco shrugged. She walked up to him, standing up straighter. Oh, she said, and if you ever hurt her, in any way, you go through me. She held out her hand. Just thought you should know. He hesitated, and she saw that he had a misty expression on his face like Evie had. He took the offer and shook on it.
Calla looked at Hermione, Lena, and Penelope. Her heart still sank when she looked at her petrified friends. But she had to keep up the hope that Professor Sprout would have the Mandrakes ready soon. They were still quickly maturing.
"See you later, Blondie," Calla said, slightly nudging him in the side as she walked past. She saw the faintest hint of a smile on his lips when she looked back at him before heading back to the Gryffindor common room.