"I believe in looking reality straight in the eye and denying it."
-Garrison Keillor
"Lets go in then," said Harry. Draco grabbed the handle of the inn and swung the door open.
The noisy room was full of people. There were only a few unoccupied tables, but they decided to sit at the counter since there were two vacant stools. They could just hear the sound of heels over the noise of the room. A curvy, pretty woman came over to them. "Good evening. What can I get you boys?" she asked pleasantly, glancing at Harry.
"Err..." Harry said. He wasn't sure what wizard drinks there were at a pub.
"Two Butterbeers," Draco said. The woman nodded and walked away for a moment. "My father told me the woman is Madam Rosmerta. She owns the inn."
"When did he tell you this?" Harry asked.
"Long time ago, when I was little. He told me he was going into Hogsmeade and I asked about it," said Draco. "Let me just say that we have to come back here during the day. You won't believe what the stores have here."
Madam Rosmerta came back with two tankards of Butterbeer. "Here you go," she said. The two boys handed over some coins. "You look like…Harry Potter," Madam Rosmerta said to Harry.
"That's me," Harry said casually. He took a large gulp of Butterbeer. He could feel the warm liquid as it went down his throat into his chest. It was mysteriously soothing.
"I knew you looked familiar," Madam Rosmerta said cheerfully. "You're father and his friends used to come in here all the time when they went to school."
"Really?" he asked, wanting to know more about his dad.
"They sure did," she replied with a smile. "Especially him and his best friend. They'd come in here whenever they could from Hogwarts. And speaking of Hogwarts, aren't you two supposed to be there? I don't see any other students." She said, looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes.
"We were…we…uh…" started Draco.
"–wanted to get away from the castle to see you!" said Harry with a smile.
Madam Rosmerta laughed cheerfully. "Thank you. I'm glad you wanted to see me, Potter–"
"Call me Harry."
"Well, I'm glad you two came, but its getting late. I won't say anything about your being here, but after you finish your drinks, I insist you leave," said Madam Rosmerta kindly. "All right?" Harry and Draco nodded, and she walked away to bring a man at a table another drink.
Madam Rosmerta came back a couple of times when she wasn't serving others to talk to Harry and Draco, who wanted the Butterbeer in their tankards to last as long as possible. She asked Draco's name, but he didn't get the same response as Harry. Instead, she just nodded, a somewhat grim look on her face.
When Harry and Draco couldn't deny the fact that they had nothing left in their mugs, Madam Rosmerta made them leave. Harry opened the door and they exited. He turned back just before the door closed to see Madam Rosmerta watching him, a small, almost sad smile on her face.
The worry was still within him. Harry would feel it at random moments of the day when he thought everything was fine. As Harry got up from dinner on Sunday evening, he looked at the back of the Great Hall, remembering the blood-red words that had once shown there. He had put them there.
As he walked though the Entrance Hall, a couple older students went through the front doors. Harry caught a glance of the outside, remembering that he had killed some roosters out there and that blood had gotten on his hands.
As he walked towards the steps, he saw the boys loo he had ran into after writing the message in the Great Hall. He remembered being in there, blood on his hands and a cut on his arm. Harry walked quickly down the steps, wanting to get away from the bad memories and from the immense feeling of worry that was in the pit of his stomach.
He knew he had to talk to Tom again.
Despite the fact he sometimes heard a voice and occasionally had blackouts, Harry knew he wasn't going insane. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he wasn't. There was only one explanation for what was happening: it was Tom Riddle. But Harry didn't want to see it, nor could he understand why or how Tom was doing it. It just made no sense.
Harry picked up his quill, dipped it in ink, and wrote.
"Hello, Tom. How are you?"
I'm quite fine, Harry. How are you? "Not so good, Tom." Still thinking about what is happening to you. Perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing. "Do you really think going to the Hospital Wing would help stop someone going insane?" I am not sure. Maybe something can be done to help you. "Help me? Well, actually, I think I'm doing quite well at the moment. No crazy person here, Tom." That is good to hear. Maybe what happened are just indications of what is going to happen in the future. "The future? So, you think I'll go insane in the future? When do you think that will happen?" I do not know, Harry. Weeks. Months. Maybe years. But, Harry, you seem very agitated at the moment. Are you sure you are all right? "No. Because, frankly, I don't think I'm going insane, Tom. I think it might be you. But I have no idea how or why you're doing this." Me, Harry? How did you come up with that idea? I am just a memory in a diary. There is no way I could do any of the things you have told me about this year. I have no corporeal body. How do you imagine I did all those things? "I don't know, Tom. Maybe it wasn't you, but you're the most likely person at the moment. Before I have blackouts, I'm always writing to you. Explain that?" I don't know about the workings of your mind, Harry. Perhaps your mind has taught you to blackout whenever you write to me. Ask yourself that question,
Harry read over the words. He had asked himself that question numerous times, but had not come up with answer.
Words appeared on the page in Tom's writing, There's something I would like you to do for me…
Walk…his legs carried him forward without thought…go up…he walked up each stone step…continue…he was in the corridor…not many people around…it was after six pm…go up…he continued, going up to a large hall…to the side…he walked a little more …wand…take out your wand…he reached in his pocket…a hand on the familiar wood…point your wand at the wall…flagrate…speak the word…he said the word as his wand pointed at the wall before him…again…spell out the word on the wall…continue…he wrote out the word largely…he couldn't stop…he had to keep saying the spell…he had to keep writing…
Harry came out of another blackout, realizing he was in the Entrance Hall. His wand was in his right hand, so he quickly put it away. His heart began to pound quickly in his chest and his eyes widened. He was almost certain it was Tom now. There was no doubt. It had happened again. He had blacked-out again after talking to Tom.
The sound of footsteps took Harry out of his thought process. He realized he was out after six pm and that the person walking down the stairs might be a professor. But since he didn't have enough time to get to the stairs that led to the Dungeon, Harry had to hide behind a large suit of armor.
The person appeared in Harry's view. It was Professor Parish. He slowed as he stared at the wall before them both. Harry turned to look at the wall, coming to terms with the fact that there was something upon it. It marred the beauty of the gray stones, which made up Hogwarts.
Parish stared at the wall for a few moments, combing his fingers though his light brown hair. He sighed loudly before walking back up the stairs quickly.
When Harry was sure Parish was gone, he came out of his hiding place. He stared, worried, at the wall before him.
The single word, which had been burned into the stone of wall, was made up of thick, uneven black lines.
Harry knew he had burned the word into the wall, but he couldn't remember doing it. When he heard more footsteps coming down, he ran quickly back to his hiding place, again not having enough time to get to the Dungeons.
Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Parish came into view, all looking quite grim and worried. Dumbledore walked up to the wall and touched a part of the word before bringing his hand back down.
"It's fresh," said Dumbledore. "Someone did this very recently. Oliver, did you hear anyone when you came down?"
"No, sir," said Parish. "I was the only one around."
"This is getting out of hand, Albus," said McGonagall. "We have to do something."
"Rip…tear…"
As quietly as he could, Harry slipped out from behind the suit of armor. The voice was going up the stairs, so he followed it, listening intently.
"Must kill…"
Harry followed the voice all the way up to the second floor. At one point he began to run, but couldn't remember when. He just needed to get to the person before he or she was Petrified. He needed to stop it.
His feet hit the floor firmly, and it was the only sound he could hear besides the voice, which continued to speak through the corridors. Suddenly, it slowed and he knew instantly where it went as Harry saw the door.
He hastily opened the door to Moaning Myrtle's loo, but just as he was running in, Myrtle was flying out. It had been so spontaneous and Harry had already been on edge that he fell backwards in shock, landing hard on his back.
"Harry!" Myrtle cried out. She was sobbing
He got up quickly, rubbing the back of his head. In rapid succession, he asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"
"There was a…a monster!" she exclaimed.
Harry looked at the door that was ajar. "What kind of monster? What did you see?"
"I didn't see it, but I heard a hissing, but it was almost growl like. It sounded very big and…and scary!" Myrtle said loudly, her voice shaking.
Harry ran into the room, looking around alertly. He stopped instantly, almost falling back again when he saw who was Petrified. It was Hermione. She was in front of one of the mirrors, holding onto the sides tightly. She didn't look like the others. Her face held fear as she stared ahead into the mirror. It was as though she knew what had been coming after her. Had she?
As he stared at Hermione's stiff face, he realized that he had let Hagrid down. He had wanted Harry to keep an eye on her, to make sure she stayed safe, but he hadn't done his job. He felt disappointment in himself wash over him as he turned away from Hermione to see a small stack of books at her feet.
One was laid open. Harry bent down to look at the page. The title was Basilisk: The King of Serpents. Since he didn't have time to look now, he ripped the page from the book, stuffing it in his left robe pocket.
Myrtle was still outside sobbing, but he didn't have time to calm her down, nor did he really want to. He ran through the corridors and down to the Entrance Hall. All the while, he hoped Dumbledore was still there. He needed to tell him about Hermione. His headmaster needed to know that someone had been Petrified again after so long.
When Harry got to the Entrance Hall, he saw Dumbledore was still there, talking to McGonagall and Parish.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed. He was breathing heavily from running so fast.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Dumbledore asked.
"Hermione…she's been Petrified," Harry managed to say in gasps.
"Where?" Dumbledore asked, worry in his eyes.
Harry showed the three professors where Hermione was. After inspecting her for a few minutes, Dumbledore asked, "How did you know she was here, Harry? I didn't think many people went in here, especially not boys."
"I was…er…walking down the corridor when I saw her go in," said Harry. "I was all the way down, but then I saw Myrtle come out and she looked upset, so I ran in and found her."
Dumbledore nodded, understanding. "Miss Granger will be taken to the Hospital Wing. I think you should return to the Slytherin common room."
As Harry made his way to the door, he heard Dumbledore say, "Fudge will have to be told of this. I want the two of you to alert the other staff about what has happened here. And I want you all to be out in the halls tonight. Oliver, stay with someone. I'll be in my office."
The door closed and Harry exhaled audibly.
When he got to the dormitory, he saw it was empty. He was glad it was since he preferred it to be so at the moment. He took out the Marauder's Map before jumping onto his bed. He let his shoes fall to the floor with soft thuds, and then he closed the curtains to have more privacy.
Tapping the parchment with his wand, he said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Harry sat back against the headboard of his bed. He put his wand upon the blanket beside him, as he stared at the map. Most of the little dots with names attached were moving around — clearly no one was asleep yet. The little dot of Draco Malfoy was upstairs in the common room, sitting by the fireplace with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."
As he looked at the grounds, he saw a dot appear labeled Cornelius Fudge. He was moving forward to meet Dumbledore, whose dot had just arrived out of the Entrance Hall. It looked like they were going toward Hagrid's.
Preview of Chapter 37–Hostile Conversation: A Slytherin is Petrified and Fudge has a conversation with Dumbledore, but when Lucius Malfoy arrives, Dumbledore is told to leave the school…