Harriet Potter Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday

"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."

~Albert Einstein

Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Corridors-November 18, 1992

That morning, Harriet got the surprise of her life. Never mind the fact that word of the attack on Justin and Nick had spread (earning her a plethora of glares throughout the morning). No, the surprise came when she opened the Daily Prophet and found the words:

Harriet Potter: Gryffindor Golden Girl or Heir of Slytherin? You decide!

The article went on to detail all the evidence of her being behind the attacks, from her being a Parselmouth to the events with the Stone last year. Even her discovery of Nick and Justin last night had been mentioned.

"How did they figure that out?" Harriet demanded as Ron and Hermione ushered her out of the Great Hall. "I mean, I only found Nick and Justin a few hours ago!"

"Oh, I don't know, Harriet." Hermione fretted, the doors of the Great Hall shutting behind them. Both Ron and Hermione had already heard about Harriet's discovery last night, thanks to her ingenious use of the mirrors. They had been shocked and surprised, but also incredibly worried about Pettrigrew in the castle and the voice she had heard.

"Do you think they might be connected?" Hermione asked about Pettigrew's presence and the attacks on the school. Harriet shrugged.

"I don't know. How could they be? Even if Pettigrew is inside the castle, he's hardly 'Heir' material, you know? He's a Muggleborn."

"There goes that theory," Ron scowled. He brightened. "But maybe Pettigrew is the voice you heard!"

"Also doesn't make sense," Harriet denied. "Pettigrew's name was nowhere near where I found Nick and Justin. He was headed towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

"Obviously he didn't get there," Ron said with a role of his eyes. "If he had, we would have heard Myrtle screaming about it a long time ago."

"That's rude, Ronald," Hermione scowled. "Still, maybe we should give it a look."

Harriet bit her lip. "We have a bit of time before class starts-"

Ron and Hermione followed her as she walked rapidly down the hall.

James Potter and Dumbledore, Dumbledore's Office-November 18, 1992

James shakily shoved water into Dumbledore's hands but, when the older man couldn't hold onto it, James lifted it and let Dumbledore sip slowly. Neither said anything for several minutes, Dumbledore drinking and James refilling.

Finally, Dumbledore said, "That's enough for now, m'boy."

James put the cup down on the desk and helped Dumbledore move to one of the couches. They both sat down gratefully, tired.

"Before we go any further, I feel that I should say thank-you. If not for your quick thinking, I would have been dead."

"Don't-" James muttered. "Just- don't. You're family. And we got what we needed, at any rate."

Dumbledore didn't respond to this. Instead, he reached into one of the deep pockets of his forest-green robe and pulled out a small, delicate locket. It looked like it was nothing special, but Dumbledore knew it was so much more. He fingered it. How much evil could be held in such a little thing?

"That was not the only thing in the cave," James said. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I grabbed this on the way out."

Dumbledore motioned for him to unfold it. When he did, a simply message was written down in plain, black ink.

"To he Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B."

"Even after all that, it wasn't a horcrux," James huffed. "And, with no way of knowing whether or not the real horcrux was destroyed, we'll have to find it."

"R.A.B," Dumbledore rolled the letters around in his mouth, trying to remember where he had heard those initials before.

"You- you don't think they could mean 'Regulus,' do they?" James asked hesitantly. "As in, Sirius's younger brother?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said eyes brightening. "It might explain why Voldemort had him killed."

James nodded. "I'll talk to Sirius about it. He won't be happy. First he spent all that time scouring the vaults, now he'll have to go digging around his brother's old things. I can help him. Might make him feel better if somebody is there."

Dumbledore simply nodded quietly. "Very well."

The headmaster stood up, bringing the piece of paper, and he placed it in the small ceramic plate on his desk- the same one that held the broken ring. Next to it, sat the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, which Sirius had finally managed to track down after hours of pouring over the inventory of the Black Vaults. It had been found in his cousin Bellatrix's vault, not that he was surprised.

"Two down," James deadpanned, "Five to go."

The door suddenly burst open and McGonagall ran in. She was more disarrayed than James had ever seen her. Her robes wrinkled, hair flying about, and a distraught expression was painted all over her face.

"Headmaster, Headmaster," She panted, bracing herself against a chair. "Thank-goodness you're back! There's been another attack!"

James's eyes widened and Dumbledore straightened. He looked much better now, if not a bit pale, and he looked much more somber.

"Who?" James asked, in full Auror mode.

"Two this time," McGonagall said, calming down a bit. "A Hufflepuff by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick."

"A ghost?" Dumbledore asked thoughtfully. "And how are they?"

"Both will be fine, Madam Pomfrey assures, once the draught has been prepared." McGonagall hesitated, her eyes falling to James. They flicked away quickly, but but he noticed and felt a tight ball of worry pool in his stomach.

"Is there something else, Professor?" Dumbledore asked knowingly. He had noticed, too.

"It's Potter," she admitted. "Harriet, that is."

James almost immediately jumped down her throat. "Is she alright? What happened? Has she been attacked-"

"She's perfectly fine," McGonagall soothed. "She was, however, the one who found the victims. Again."

"You can't be suggesting-" James began

"Don't be ridiculous," McGonagall said with sigh. "However it's all very odd. She said that she also saw Pettigrew in the castle-"

"Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked. "How?"

"Both she and Mr. Lupin were quite vague, but seemed to be under the impression that he was in Hogwarts last night," McGonagall said with pursed lips. "Naturally, the castle has been searched, but he has not been found- either as a human or as a rat."

"Very well," Dumbledore said softly. "I'll talk to her."

"I should-" James began.

"You should go to Madam Pomfrey and have her look you over," Dumbledore said firmly. James obviously was going to protest, so Dumbledore amended his request. "At least go see Mr. Lupin and have him look you over. If he says you're fine, then I will take him at his word and let the matter drop. You'll be able to inquire into Harriet's well being, too."

James nodded and left the office, walking a bit more slowly, their expedition in the cave obviously having taken more out of him than he would dare admit.

"Also, Headmaster," McGonagall said once James had left, "There is somebody from the Ministry here to see you. I left them in my office."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "I will go see what the matter is about. Please summon Harriet to my office."

McGonagall left to go find Harriet.

James Potter and Remus Lupin, Lupin's Office, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992

James stared forlornly down at the newspaper in his lap, Remus bustling about, examining him and making tea.

James didn't know why, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the paper. More specifically, he couldn't stop reading the article Rita Skeeter had written about Harriet.

He should stop.

He really should.

Each line was making him grow angrier and angrier. But he couldn't stop. He kept reading and rereading and re-rereading-

Remus sat down after a few minutes with a decisive nod.

"You'll be fine. You've drained your magical Core, which is saying something of a wizard of your caliber, but some rest and food should clear that up. James? James are you even listening to me?"

"Yes. No. Sorry, what was the question?" James looked up from The Daily Prophet and met Remus's slightly annoyed expression with a guilty one of his own. He muttered a sorry and gestured to the paper. "I just don't know what to think of this or what to do with it."

"I don't know," Remus said with a frown. "Is there anything you can do to make her stop? Harriet is a minor, after all."

"Not really," James scowled. "We can talk to her and tell her to lay off of Harriet, but that won't do much good. I've worked with Skeeter before- well, against her. If you tell her to stop, all it does to make her dig that much deeper."

"You can't- I don't know- give her a warning?"

"If I talk to her, or another Auror does, tomorrow the paper will be filled with nonsense about the Ministry trying to curb freedom of speech."

"But it's illegal to use a minor's name in the profit without parental consent," Remus pointed out frustratedly.

James ran a hand through his hair.

"I know that and you know that, but Skeeter doesn't seem to know that." James huffed. "Besides, she'll just work around it. An article will show up on the front page and it will be filled with more lies about Harriet, this time without naming names. There isn't any winning. If she was getting her information illegally, then we could lock her away, but there isn't any proof-"

"Trespassing on Hogwarts grounds is illegal," Remus pointed out.

James shook his head. "We don't know if that's what she did."

"Well," Remus said hesitantly, placing a cup of tea down for James. "I might have seen her name on the Map last night-"

James spit out his tea. "You what? Did you tell Albus?"

"No," Remus admitted shamefully. "I went to check it out, but didn't see anybody there. I thought the Map was just acting up again."

"Again?" James raised an eyebrow and smiled a bit. "When did that happen last? And are you doubting your charms work?"

"Harriet claims to have seen Pettigrew on the Map last night," Remus began, but James interrupted him.

"Dumbledore mentioned something about that," James confirmed. "Did you see him?"

Remus shook his head. "When Harriet showed it to me, he was nowhere in the castle. And yes-" Remus put his hand up to stop James's protests. "I looked everywhere."

"The Map shows every part of the castle, though," James argued. "Are you sure Harriet wasn't imagining things? What was she doing before?"

"She said she had an odd dream and that's why she woke up. I asked if her dream might have made her confused, but she said that her dream was about a boy-"

"Wait, what?" James demanded sharply. "What boy? Who is he? Do I know him-"

"James," Remus snorted. "I don't think that was quite what she meant."

"Oh," James said, looking obviously relieved. "That's good. She's far too young to date. I've been thinking about talking to Lily and having it so that Harriet can't date until after she's married. What do you think?"

"I think you're delusional," Remus retorted. "With Lily's eyes? You'll be beating boys away with a stick."

James grimaced. "Back to more pleasant topics, if you don't mind."

"You mean the fact that there might be an ex-Death Eater running about the castle?" Remus asked with a smirk.

James nodded. "Yes. That would do it."

"I think, for now, we need to assume that the Map is acting up. It's old and there is no reason to suggest otherwise."

"You don't believe that," James tutted quietly.

Remus shook his head. "No, I don't. But there's nothing else we can do. The staff is on alert. Harriet knows to be careful. I have the Map here. That's it."

James nodded, but didn't look satisfied. Remus, too, felt incredibly frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help Harriet further, so he could only imagine how James felt, not being able to do anything for his daughter.

Remus changed the subject. "How's the search for the Horcruxes coming?"

"Good," James said slowly. "We found the fake Horcrux in the cave, but think Sirius's brother might have had the real one, so I'll be talking to Padfoot about that. We have the cup, also thanks to Sirius, and Dumbledore has already destroyed the ring."

"You're making good progress," Remus said approvingly. He moved to stand behind his desk and flipped through some pages of an old book. "There are rumors of an ancient relic of Ravenclaw, a diadem, as it were. I can't find anything more than myth, though. I'm hoping to use the Potter library over break and maybe found something more."

"I've already told you to feel free," James offered, "But this whole thing will be pointless if we can't find a way to destroy them."

"Lily and Severus are working on it," Remus said, shutting the book. "Horcruxes are tricky because they can repair themselves. You need to find a way to destroy them before they can heal. Finding something that can do that, but not kill you is a bit difficult."

"You've been doing your research," James teased.

Remus shrugged. "Sirius leant me some old books. When are you going to talk to him about Regulus?"

James sighed and hauled himself out of the chair. "Now is as good a time as any, I suppose. Don't want to lose my nerve."

"You have plenty of that," Remus assured.

James smiled. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Remus said, and the two men embraced. James nodded and took a step into the Floo. With a reluctant wave, he disappeared to Sirius's (and, by extension, Remus's) flat.

Remus made a face. He did not envy James in what he was about to do.

Harriet Potter, Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992

"Myrtle?" Harriet called hesitantly. "Are you here?"

"I'm always here," Myrtle said petulantly from behind the group. Ron, Hermione, and Harriet jumped and gasped, Hermione almost falling over. Myrtle crossed her arms and glared at them. "Where else would I be?"

"I- I don't know," Harriet said, clearing her throat. "Just thought I'd be polite."

"Hmph," Myrtle sniffed. She looked as though she were going to say something, when she noticed Ron. She blushed quite prettily- for a ghost.

"Hello, Ronald," she tittered. "How are you today?"

Poor Ron looked like Dudley had when Aunt Marge cornered him for a kiss. Harriet subtly kicked his shin, warning him not to upset Myrtle. She might have seen something last night or earlier.

"Fine, Myrtle. And how about you?"

Myrtle sighed, long and drawn-out. "Oh, alright, I suppose. I'd be better if somebody hadn't thrown something at me last night."

"Somebody threw something at you?" Harriet asked, trying to sound concerned.

Hermione didn't manage so well. "Last night? Around what time?"

Myrtle narrowed her eyes at Hermione and floated right up to her, looking her right in the eye. "Why so interested? Do you think it's funny? Oh let's throw things at Myrtle! It'll be fun! Is that what you all think?"

"Of course not, Myrtle," Harriet interjected. "Hermione was just wondering who could have done it. It's awful what they did to you."

Myrtle eyed Hermione distrustfully and then turned to Harriet, making a pitiful noise in the back of her throat. "It was late and dark, so I didn't see. I heard some funny noises, like hissing, then some scraping. I came to look and see what it was, since it was past curfew, but I suppose I scared them, because they threw the book at me. I was distracted and they got away."

"What book?" Ron asked.

Myrtle pointed to a puddle in the corner.

Harriet walked over and picked up the small, leather, water-soaked book resting on the floor. She flipped through it briefly, looking to see what was inside, but it was empty.

"There's nothing written in here," she noted. She turned to Myrtle "Are you sure you didn't see who threw this at you?"

She scowled and Harriet took that as a clear sign. "Thanks for your help, Myrtle!"

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione quickly left the bathroom, not wanting to upset Myrtle further. Ron gazed wide-eyed at the door.

"Well, if Pettigrew did go in there last night, I'm not surprised he didn't come out. Myrtle probably killed him and is orchestrating a cover-up!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald, haven't you been listening? Pettigrew couldn't have gone in there. He would have shown up on the Map."

"Well, then who threw that book at Myrtle?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow. "I'd love to find them and congratulate them."

"I don't know," Harriet said swiftly, preventing Hermione from saying anything. "But we should probably-"

"POTTER!"

McGonagall was walking quickly towards them. Harriet didn't hesitate to hide the book behind her. In a move that would put most Aurors to shame, Hermione secretly took the journal from her and let it fall in her bag.

McGonagall didn't notice a thing. She approached the group and looked sternly down at Harriet. Harriet tried her best to look innocent, which probably just made her look that much more guilty.

"The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office." McGonagall informed her.

Harriet's eyes widened. "Why? What did I do?"

"I assume he wants to discuss the incident last night," McGonagall said. Harriet nodded.

"Okay."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "The password is 'cockroach clusters.'"

Harriet started. "Oh! You meant now! Alright."

Harriet darted off and McGonagall watched her with an amused, but affectionate, look on her face.

"That girl," she muttered, before leaving.

Harriet Potter, Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992

Harriet opened the door cautiously and peeked into the office. There was nobody there. She walked in hesitantly and looked around, as though expecting Dumbledore to jump out and scare her.

She wouldn't put it past him, to be honest.

"Professor," she said hesitantly. "Professor, are you in here? McGo- I mean, Professor McGonagall said you wanted to talk to me."

Harriet let out a huff when she realized that Dumbledore wasn't there. Looking around and biting her lip, not really sure what she should do.

Then she saw the Sorting Hat.

She had been thinking a lot about the hat, especially in context of her dreams. His robes had told her that Riddle had been in Slytherin. Combined with the fact that he, too, could speak Parselmouth, made Harriet wonder more and more about whether or not she had been sorted correctly.

Harriet loved Gryffindor. She met Ron and Hermione there. Most of her family (well, the family worth mentioning) had been in Gryffindor. Harriet was a Gryffindor.

Right?

Edging towards the table where the Sorting Hat sat, Harriet glanced around one last time to make sure that nobody was coming up the stairs, and then placed the hat firmly on her head. At first, Harriet didn't really know what to expect, but then it began to talk.

"Well, well, well," it drawled. "Harriet Potter. What a surprise. It's not often I get visitors in the middle of the year. What brings you here?"

"Well, Mr. Hat, sir," Harriet stuttered. She swallowed nervously. "I was wondering- I mean, what you said to me during my Sorting-"

"Ah, yes," the Sorting Hat chuckled. "I can see you've been having your doubts."

Harriet nodded.

"I can tell you no more or no less than what I told you before. You would have done well in Slytherin."

"Liar!" Harriet said fiercely, ignoring the Hat's self-satisfied chuckles and putting him back down on the table, perhaps a bit more fiercely than she should have. Huffing, she crossed her arms and turned her back on the Sorting Hat, coming face-to-face with-

A bird?

It was like no bird Harriet had ever seen before. Old and weathered, it's feathers looked to be once-brilliant shades of orange, red, and yellow. Calculating eyes watched her warily from the perch. It let out a small hum, calling her closer.

Harriet didn't hesitate. Taking a few steps closer, she smiled at it. The bird winked- What was it with animals winking at her?- and then burst into a bright ball of flame.

Harriet jumped backwards, almost knocking over a chair. She watched helplessly as the bird burned and as the flame slowly died out. All that Harriet could see left were ashes.

Before Harriet could take a closer look, though, the door to the office began to jiggle. Already in a huge amount of trouble for the attacks, Harriet did not want to be caught having killed Professor Dumbledore's bird.

Thinking quickly, she shot into a cupboard by Dumbledore's desk, shutting the door gently behind her, leaving only a small window for her to peak through, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Harriet couldn't help but think back to the last time she had been in this position: hiding from Malfoy and his father in Knockturn Alley. Hopefully, this time, things would work out a bit better.

Squinting through the crack she had allowed herself, Harriet was able to watch as Dumbledore entered his office, followed by a stumpy, toad looking woman. Fat and dressed completely in pink, Harriet felt an extreme dislike for her already.

It grew worse when Harriet realized that she was annoying Dumbledore. Dumbledore didn't really make it obvious when he was annoyed or angry. Teaching at a school filled with rambunctious students, the man needed the patience of a saint.

But Harriet could tell by the tenseness of his shoulders and his subtle jibes that this woman was pushing all of Dumbledore's buttons.

"Madam Umbridge," Dumbledore said cooly, "I urge you to remove the Dementors from the castle. They can do nothing by disrupt our school. One of our students has already-"

"Yes," Umbridge giggled, her high voice making Harriet wince. "The Ministry was made aware of this incident, but was the student in question not also guilty of arriving late and flouting the International Statute of Wizard Secrecy? It is only because of a favor to you, Dumbledore, that we did not have a hearing."

Harriet's eyes widened. She hadn't know that the Ministry had wanted her present for another hearing. At this rate, she'd have more hearings than most of the criminals in the wizarding world.

"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly. "A favor that I am most grateful for. Never mind the fact that the Ministry has no jurisdiction over what happens to students once they are on Hogwarts grounds, which is why the Dementors must go."

"Are you threatening the Ministry, Headmaster?" Umbridge demanded.

"Not at all," Dumbledore denied. "I am simply pointing out that, legally, the Ministry has no right to inflict Dementors on Hogwarts. They remain here only because I allow them to."

"They are here for the students' protection," Umbridge said firmly.

Dumbledore made an odd noise in the back of his throat. "I see."

"Surely, you do. After the events of last year, can you blame us for being a bit more careful?"

"No, no. Of course not," Dumbledore said easily. "The events of last year were tragic, indeed, but how does placing Dementors around the castle protect students from dangers that might very well be inside?"

Harriet didn't know if Dumbledore was talking about Pettigrew, the attacks, or something else entirely, but he had a good point. Umbridge's cheeks flushed angrily.

"I do not know what you mean."

"I simply mean to say," Dumbledore said, "That, so far, the Dementors have done little to prevent danger from entering the school. You have heard of the attacks, no doubt, and the Aurors have been made aware of the possibility of Pettigrew inside the castle. There is also the matter of Rita Skeeter making the lives of one of our students public."

"Yes," Umbridge said with an overdramatic sigh. "But one can not help but wonder, Headmaster, whether these incidents are a result of the Dementors' shortcomings, or yours?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I have been running this school for many years, Madam Umbridge."

"Yes," Umbridge simpered. "And you have done a remarkable job. However, perhaps it is time for new management. You aren't getting any younger, Professor, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Shut up you stupid, old, cow," Harriet hissed angrily. She clapped her hands over her mouth, realizing her slip. Thankfully, nobody seemed to hear her.

"I am simply saying," Umbridge added. "That perhaps your attachment to certain students is clouding your judgement."

Harriet frowned, wondering if Umbridge meant her, but then shook it off. She probably meant one of the older students. Dumbledore had a soft spot for Harriet's parents, but considering all the trouble she had been in, Harriet doubted that this affection extended much to her.

"I will remain at the school as long as the School Board wishes me to," Dumbledore said mildly. "Now, Madam Umbridge, I have a prior engagement that I really must attend to. You can see your way out."

Umbridge left and Dumbledore let out a sigh. He looked older than Harriet had ever seen him. Then he straightened and turned towards Harriet's hiding place. His eyes were twinkling merrily.

"You can come out now, Harriet," he said jovially.

Harriet blushed bright red and stepped outside. She stuttered an apology. "I'm sorry, sir. I heard you coming and didn't know- I panicked and didn't think to- I couldn't help but overhear..."

"Curiosity is not a sin, Harriet," Dumbledore said mildly, "But you should exercise great caution. It can get you into trouble."

"Yes, sir," Harriet nodded, already having experience. She gestured towards the perch where the bird had once stood. "I'm sorry, but your bird. It just exploded. There was nothing I could do, I promise!"

"Oh, there is no need to worry, my dear girl," Dumbledore chuckled. "Come see."

Harriet walked closer and looked at the spot Dumbledore was pointing. Slowly, from the ashes, a small, grey, bird emerged from the ashes. It blinked slowly and then let out a small chirp.

Harriet was awestruck. "Is that-"

"The same bird," Dumbledore affirmed mildly. "His name his Fawkes and he is no ordinary bird. He's a Phoenix. Marvelous creatures, Phoenixes, able to be reborn from the ashes of their former life. Incredibly loyal, they can carry immensely heavy loads and their tears are reputed to have healing powers."

Harriet smiled at the small chick, which was gazing at them curiously. "He's beautiful."

"Yes, I think so, too," Dumbledore agreed. "Pity you had to see him on a burning day."

Dumbledore gestured to a seat in front of his desk. Harriet followed his advice and sat down on it. She eyed him apprehensively. "Sir?"

"You cannot be at a loss, Harriet, as to why I called you here," he said gently.

"It's about the attacks, yea?" Harriet asked, biting her lip.

Dumbledore nodded.

"I promise, sir," Harriet said quickly, "I had nothing to do with them."

"I know you didn't," Dumbledore assured. "However, if there is anything that you are not telling me, Harriet, now would be the time. If I am to protect the school, I need to obtain all of the information that I can."

"I already told you everything, sir," Harriet said after a moment. Dumbledore said nothing. He gazed at her firmly for several more moments before nodding.

"Very well, Harriet," he said. He stood up and gestured that she was free to do the same. "That is all, I suppose. I would advise you, though, to use supreme caution when wandering the halls these days. Your uncle has informed me of your suspicions about Pettigrew, and the attacks, and the Dementors- "

Dumbledore was silent. "I am afraid to say that Hogwarts is not as safe as it once was."

Harriet, feeling bold, attempted to comfort the headmaster. "Hogwarts will always be safe with you around, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "I am glad you think so, Harriet, but as you overheard, that opinion is not popular at the moment. For your sake, though, as well as the other students, I hope this matter will be resolved soon."

"Me, too, sir," Harriet said after a moment, not sure what else to say. She felt oddly grown up, having Dumbledore confide in her like this. It made her feel a bit guilty that she didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth about the voice she had been hearing, but the last thing she needed was anybody telling her that she was going crazy.

Harriet turned to leave when she noticed something on Dumbledore's desk. She blinked, several times, but it was still there.

The ring from her dream

With a crack right through the middle, sure, but the ring nonetheless.

"Sir, where did you get that ring?" Harriet asked.

Dumbledore raised both eyebrows and turned to look at the ring in question. He frowned and then, after a moment, turned back to her.

"From an old student of the school," Dumbledore said after a moment.

The guilt Harriet had felt disappeared. Dumbledore wasn't telling her everything. He was hiding something.

Harriet bit her lip and looked at the ring again. She also noticed the gold cup next to it. She felt a slight twinge run through her scar and reached her hand up to soothe it.

"Are you alright, Harriet?" Dumbledore asked, looking much more concerned than the situation warranted.

"Just fine, sir," Harriet muttered, just managing to tear her eyes away from the ring."Where did it get the crack?"

"I think that is all for today, Harriet," Dumbledore said after a moment, an odd look in his eye.

Harriet took that as a dismissal and left, but not without one last glance at the ring.

Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992

After Harriet finished with Dumbledore, she didn't head to class. Her first class of the day was Herbology, but Harriet went straight to her dorm. She was exhausted. After getting almost no sleep the night before, Harriet could do with a few hours of sleep. Not to mention the fact that her scar was burning quite fiercely.

Professor Sprout wouldn't mind. She had a maternal streak a mile wide.

And Lockhart?

Well, Harriet could care less what he thought.

When Harriet entered the common room, though, she was surprised to see Ron and Hermione there.

She blinked. "What are you two doing here?"

Ron smirked. "Hermione thought you'd be in class, but I knew you'd come back here for a few more hours of sleep until Remus's class."

"And what was so important that it couldn't want until then?" Harriet asked, plopping down on one of the couches.

Hermione fingered the tattered cover of the diary. "I was flipping through the diary after you left when I saw this."

Hermione opened the diary up to the first page and handed it over to Harriet.

Harriet felt the room spin.

Scribbled in the top left corner of the diary's inside cover was a name

T.M. Riddle.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was real.

AN: Alright then :) I know it's been quite a while since I've updated, so I'm sorry about that, and I know that this chapter is a bit shorter than normal, and I'm sorry about that, too. It's been a long few weeks for me (final exams, a cold, moving, etc.), but I promise I'm still working hard on this story. Hopefully you like this chapter and please bear with me!

tinyrose65

p.s. I wasn't going to originally, but I managed to work Umbridge in there- mainly because she's always been one of my favorite HP characters (that I love to hate). If there are any other HP characters you would like to see pop up, let me know and I'll see what I can do!