Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.
A/N: Enormous thank you to you all for all the support this story has received so far. It means a lot, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)
Chapter 8
The girls slipped through the castle, heading for the Gryffindor Common Room, ducking behind tapestries and racing down corridors to avoid the eagle eyes off the staff, students and ghost on patrol.
"W-wattlebird," Rose gasped, clutching her side as they approached Ethel.
Rolling her eyes and muttering darkly, the portrait allowed them admittance.
Recovering their breath, and finding their Slytherin arrogance, they smirked and waved their way into the common room. Rose scanned the room quickly and saw that Harry was not there. Spotting Hermione at a table, surrounded by various tomes and a piece of parchment, she called:
"Hey Hermione, where's Harry?"
Hermione looked startled at being addressed by a Slytherin so casually when the Slytherin in question was in a room filled with Gryffindor's, some of whom looked downright hostile, and they only had one ally should a fight break out. Despite feeling accusatory eyes upon her, Hermione raised her hand and pointed to the left of a pair of oak doors. "Second floor."
"Thanks," Rose grinned and she and Millicent continued across the room. "Oh Merlin, again?" she sighed as Percy Weasley blocked their path as they approached the door. "Hello Percy, wonderful to see you. Excuse us, please, you're blocking the door."
Percy scowled. "You shouldn't be in here, let alone going into the dormitories."
"Yet we are, and we are." Rose beamed at him. "Comical, isn't it?"
With that, the two girls sidestepped him and proceeded through the doors, up to the dormitory.
"Hey Harry," Rose greeted him as they entered, flickering her wand at the door, locking it lest Percy came to boss them around. Harry smiled back, his expression morphing to a scowl as he spotted Millicent.
"What's she doing here?"
"Hello to you too, Potter," Millicent sneered.
"She wanted to come," Rose shrugged. "Plus, she's written in the diary before."
"Yeah, how did you know about it?" Harry asked.
"It's kind of a long story, but-" quickly, Rose told the tale of their previous association with the book.
"I see," Harry mused as she finished. "Well, I wrote in it, and Tom Riddle's offered to show me, or us, once I told him of you, what happened when the Chamber of Secrets opened for the first time, fifty years ago."
Millicent raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Look, Potter, I get that it's a diary that replies; I know that. But how do you propose it's going to show us anything?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno, Bulstrode; ask it."
Millicent took the diary and quill from his grasp. Harry and Rose looked over her shoulder interestedly, and Rose saw a flash of apprehension cross Millicent's face as she flipped the diary open. Instead of writing a question, Millicent simply pressed the nib of the quill against the page and quickly withdrew it.
"."
"Scared, Bulstrode?"
Millicent's scornful retort was cut short as ink flooded onto the page, taking form in the smooth, slender letters that Rose now knew to be of Tom Riddle's hand.
"Oh, Merlin, you again. We've been over this; I don't know what time you're from, but in my time, a socially accepted introduction is 'Hello'. Say it with me: "Hel-lo." Are you Harry's sister? I find that difficult to fathom, to be honest: the contrast in your mental capacities is too drastic; but then again, you never know."
Millicent glared at the diary with such force Rose was surprised Riddle didn't feel it. Sniggering, Harry took the diary and quill from her and scrawled something on the page. As he threw the quill aside and laid the diary down on one of the beds- his own, judging by the name on the trunk below the frame- the pages of the diary began to turn rapidly, then froze as though parted; a date appearing in the top right corner of the page.
As the three leant over the dairy to read the date, a white light emitted from the parting between the two pages, blinding them. Rose suddenly felt as though she was being pulled towards the light and then she was falling. Falling as through weightless, yet feeling the crushing load of an impossible wind.
They landed too quietly for their feet to be slamming into the floor, yet there was no noise. Rose straightened her glasses and saw they had landed in Dumbledore's office.
Yet it was not Dumbledore's office, it seemed. Armando Dippet, whose portrait hung behind Dumbledore's desk, now sat behind the desk reading a letter; evidently very much alive. Rose realised this was Riddle's memory, though how Dippet was relevant to the Chamber of Secrets was unclear.
"Awesome," Millicent breathed staring around.
A knock sounded from the doorway, making the three jump. Dippet seemed to be expecting the call, for he calmly laid down the letter, rested his chin atop pointed fingers and called: "Come in."
A tall Slytherin boy of around sixteen entered. A prefect badge was pinned to his robes, and ring emblazed with an unusual crest of a triangle with a line down its centre eclipsed by a circle, gleamed haughtily from his finger. His jet black hair was neatly parted and his pale skin contrasted wonderfully with both it and his dark eyes. He was undeniably handsome, though this was slightly marred by the- carefully subsided- arrogant air that clung to him like glue.
"Good evening, sir. You sent for me?"
"Yes, Tom. Please sit." Dippet gestured to one of the two chairs before the desk.
Riddle sat, twisting his hands nervously under the desk.
"I received your letter," Dippet smiled sympathetically. "But I am afraid I can't allow you to remain at the castle over the holidays. In light of the recent events, it would not be safe. You live in a Muggle orphanage, correct?"
Riddle nodded, his hands now balled into fists. "I am a half-blood though, sir. My father was a Muggle, he never made contact with me, and died not long ago," here, Riddle's face contorted ever so slightly, as though suppressing a smile. "My mother was a witch. She died not long after I was born, sir. She named me first though, sir: Tom, for my father and Marvolo, for hers."
Dippet sighed. "I am sorry, Tom. Were the present state of affairs different-"
Riddle interrupted, his tone suddenly excited. "Forgive me, sir, but if the culprit was apprehended-?"
"I would allow you to stay," Dippet answered. A sharpness was apparent in his next words. "But see hear, Tom, if you know anything-"
"I, sir?" Riddle shook his head sadly. "I wish I did, sir; I would do anything to go back in time and somehow prevent the attack. I regret to say I know nothing sir, nothing at all."
Dippet's eyebrows rose slightly at the slight emphasis on the word 'know', but when Riddle didn't continue, he dismissed him, looking rather let down.
The three second years followed Riddle's distraught form from the office and down the corridor. Once he had rounded the corner and was crossing the Entrance Hall, Riddle straightened and grinned broadly, a feverish light in his eyes. "Advantage, V-"
In a second, his demeanor dropped as a very much younger Dumbledore appeared. "Tom? Why are you roaming the castle at this hour?"
"I had an appointment, sir, with Headmaster Dippet."
Dumbledore peered at him over the top of his half-moon spectacles, the merest suggestion of a frown hovering around his mouth. "Well, I suggest you return to your dormitory."
"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir." Riddle bowed slightly before passing on.
He led them down the stone steps to the dungeons, but did not turn right at the end of the proceeding corridor- at the division known in Slytherin as 'The Fork'- that separated the labyrinth of corridors to the common room from the more straightforward path to the potions classroom, but left and not long after, turned into the dungeon where potions was held. Riddle slid behind the now ajar door, clearly beginning a wait.
Knowing they couldn't be seen, the second years sat on stools in the back row that had most likely been left there from a theology class.
After what seemed to Rose to be hours, thudding footsteps where heard along the corridor. The person was clearly trying to sneak, but failing.
Roses jaw dropped as Hagrid entered. He was fifty years younger, dressed in Gryffindor robes and clean shaven, yes, but his kindly beetle black eyes and shoulder length tangled brown mane were unmistakable.
"No," Harry gasped. "Not Hagrid. No, you've made a mistake, Hagrid would never…"
Millicent was practically lying across the desk before them she was leaning so far forward, her eyes bugling out of her head in shock as Hagrid crossed the room fugitively, heading for a cupboard that did not exist in the present.
Swiftly, Riddle stepped out from behind the door allowing it to bang shut behind him. Hagrid turned, fear etched into every line of his face.
"Tom Riddle? Wh-"
He got no further, for in three quick strides Riddle had crossed the room, whipped out his wand and pointed at him. "Step aside, Rubeus. The attacks must end."
"Aragog wouldn't-"
"Either you step aside, or I make you." Riddle snarled. "You are being foolish. If you co-operate, you will reduce your punishment significantly."
"But-!"
There was a flash of red light and Hagrid fell backwards into the cupboard door clutching his face, blood streaming from between his fingers, gasping in pain. The door collapsed under his weight, and Riddle was forced to dive out of the way as a many legged creature the size of Dudley crawled from the cupboard, hell bent on the door before it.
Riddle raised his wand. "Avada-!"
With a howl of rage, Hagrid leapt to his feet and threw himself at Riddle's raised arm. As Riddle screamed with pain, Rose once again felt the pulling sensation and saw the white, blinding light…
The three landed heavily on the floor of the of the Gryffindor boy's dormitory.
"Oh my Merlin." Millicent broke the silence. "That was just…"
"I know." Harry agreed, getting up and reaching for the diary.
"What are you doing?" Rose asked.
"I'm gonna write in it, learn more from Riddle about the attacks."
Rose blinked. "Are you mental?! Did you see what he did?!"
"Yeah, but he's the only source we've got! He could tell us so much!"
"Try a history book," Rose snapped, grabbing the diary before he could. "I'm getting rid of this: Riddle's a nutter."
Millicent nodded in agreement.
"How do you propose to do that?" Harry shot back. "Someone tried to flush it down a toilet and it emerged as though new!"
"I'll think of something," Rose replied, sounding more confident than she felt.
Harry snorted, narrowing his eyes. "I'll have it back once you've failed, thanks."
Rose glared back at him and left, the diary clutched tightly in her fist, Millicent behind her.
When the girls returned to the common room, however, what met their eyes was enough to drive the evening's events from both their minds.
Draco was crying softly, a letter crushed between his fingers. The others were attempting to comfort him, but to no avail.
"Draco, what is it?!" Rose cried, dropping the diary and running to him.
"J-just came. F-father," he gasped, shoving the parchment towards her.
It was, she noticed, a scrap of the regular yellow kind, rather than the grey marble coloured, silk imbedded, crested affair that was used by the Malfoy's. The handwriting was that of Narcissa, though it was large, shaky and clearly written in great haste.
'Father attacked. Use floo network, come to Manor.
- Mother.'
Rose hugged him. "It's going to be okay, I promise." she murmured as his tears soaked her jumper. She rocked him back and forth as he cried, tears falling from her own eyes at his grief. "I promise, Dragon, I promise. Pans, in my overnight bag in the top of my trunk-"
Pansy nodded understandingly and ran to the dormitory, returning almost instantly with the small red sack Rose had used at the Dursley's that contained the floo powder Severus said was only to be used in an emergency. Well, Rose considered this an emergency.
"Thanks." she said as Pansy threw a fistful into the fire, turning the flames a brilliant green. "C'mon, Dragon, we're going."
Draco leant on her heavily as he got to his feet.
"We'll tell Snape," Blaise murmured.
"He'll be alright." Goyle grunted.
"Absolutely," the others echoed his sentiment.
"Thanks, guys." Rose smiled softly. Draco could only nod, tears spilling from his eyes.
"Malfoy Manor!" Rose cried as they stepped into the flames.
They fell through the floo network, the flames surrounding them unbearable in the confusion, fear and grief that consumed the two.
They tumbled out of the fireplace, into the Manor's entrance hall, just as Narcissa's cry echoed from the sitting room.
"We can't go to St. Mungo's, Severus! If the Healers see him they'll know! THEY'LL KNOW!"
There was the sound of a glass smashing, then Rose felt the world spin and she was consumed by darkness.
A/N: Please review! :)