Whew! I have had a crazy week, but I promised you a long chapter, remember? HERE IT IS! :D Have fun, leave me nice hugs in the form of reviews so I can get through the rest of the weekend!


29 May 1993

The day had blurred from a glorious, jubilant morning into a kaleidoscopic horror show in a matter of hours. The truth, for Minerva, was inescapable: a student was dead, on her watch. A first year, a beloved, happy girl—murdered because she, Minerva, had allowed the Heir of Slytherin to know that he was being cornered. She wasn't sure she could survive the guilt that roiled inside her chest like an ocean.

She didn't know what was worse—having Pomona try to relieve her shame by assuring her that there was nothing that could have been done, which was an obvious lie, or sitting alone in her office, berating herself for her stupidity. Gilderoy Lockhart's incompetency (and inability to keep his eyes on a classroom, for which she had still not properly chastised him) aside, Minerva knew she ought to have anticipated that the Heir of Slytherin—or his representative—would be feeling cornered and afraid after the morning's news. She should have known better—she did know better, but she hadn't been careful, and now Ginny Weasley was dead.

She had told the Weasley boys immediately after she had met with the faculty, and that alone had almost broken her. She realized in that moment that she had never seen Fred or George without smiles on their faces; Ron had simply kept his mouth clamped shut from the first moment he'd come into her office, as though he thought he was going to vomit; Percy had asked for permission to write to their parents himself. Molly and Arthur were on their way to the school, but Minerva couldn't even contemplate what she might say to them.

And there were the tears again. Minerva wiped furiously at her face and stood up. She strode to the small mirror on the back of her office door and tried to evaluate her appearance; it would never do to break down this way in front of the Weasleys. Outside her windows, the sun had set ages ago. They would surely be here soon.

Get a grip, she thought angrily, hating every inch of herself that she could see in the mirror.

But how do you say something like this to a parent? she asked herself miserably, as more tears blurred her vision. She hadn't felt this paralyzed or alone since…since Finn had died, she realized. She regretted asking Severus, Pomona, and Filius to leave her office after they had made plans for the Hogwarts Express to leave tomorrow morning, as soon as the victims had been given the Restorative Draught.

She sank down in her desk chair and covered her face with her hands, feeling painfully exhausted. There came a knock at the door. It would be Pomona, or someone who had met the Weasleys at the front gates and escorted them to her office. Minerva's hands shook as she lowered them to her desktop and pushed herself up.

"Come in," she said, her voice faint.

The door opened, and Filius appeared, looking anxious. Minerva's stomach flipped. Then he came inside and shut the door behind himself—the Weasleys evidently weren't with him.

"Lockhart is missing," he told her.

The déjà vu was painful for a moment, and Minerva shoved it aside. "Oh, Filius, I don't have time—"

"No, no—you don't understand. Severus goaded him into packing up and leaving this afternoon," Filius interrupted, "but I don't know that it worked—at least, not really. I've just been to his office, and he's gone. His trunks are half-packed, the office is a mess. He wouldn't have gone anywhere without his robes or his precious portraits," he insisted. "Something is wrong."

"There are a great many things wrong in this castle tonight, Filius, and Gilderoy Lockhart is the least of my concerns, right now," Minerva snapped, her voice rising uncontrollably. "If that's all—"

There was another rap on the door, and it opened. Pomona now appeared, looking nervous. "Minerva, I've just finished checking the dormitories, and—"

"Unless Ginny Weasley has managed to rematerialize safely in her bed, I don't want to hear about it! We will deal with it when the school has been closed!" Minerva shouted, actually slamming her fist down on her desk, her temper flaring out of control.

Pomona and Filius stared at her silently, and she lifted a trembling hand over her eyes. "Oh, I—I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I really—that was uncalled for, I apologize." She lowered herself into her chair and covered her face with her hands again, and waited until she was calm enough to speak normally. "What is it that you need, Pomona?"

"That's just it, Minerva," she said quietly, "I've checked the dormitories, and the only missing students are from your house."

"Students?" Minerva repeated, raising her eyebrows. "Who—?"

"Potter and Weasley," she said, and then she blanched. "Er—Ron Weasley."

"No," Minerva said automatically. "No, they—they were up there when I left them—"

"They aren't there now," Pomona insisted. "I don't know—"

Suddenly, the office door opened yet again, and all three of them looked around in surprise. For a moment, Minerva thought she was hallucinating. Then, in a single movement, she ran out from behind the desk and threw her arms around Albus's neck. "Merlin's beard," she gasped, embracing him as tightly as he embraced her. "What are you doing here? They'll have you—"

"They have brought me back, in no uncertain terms, following this afternoon's news," he told her gently, as they parted. He looked grave, but greeted both Filius and Pomona warmly. "I wonder if the two of you would please meet Molly and Arthur Weasley at the gates when they arrive, and bring them here directly?" he asked.

"Of course, headmaster," said Pomona, and she and Filius hurried from the room.

When they were alone, Albus turned to face her, his expression regretful. "I am so sorry, Minerva."

"I don't know what I'll say to them," she blurted out, her voice starting to stick painfully in her throat again.

"One thing at a time," Albus urged her, directing her back to the chair by her fireplace and sitting down opposite her. "First, where have Ron and Harry gone?"

"We don't know," she said, only dimly aware that he must have been eavesdropping to have known the boys were gone. "Pomona was only just telling me they were gone when you—how are you here, Albus?"

"The details do not matter at this moment," he told her gently. "Now, I must ask—has there been any…evidence of Miss Weasley's death?"

Minerva flinched. "No," she replied shakily. "Just a message on the wall."

Albus steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, frowning thoughtfully into the fire. Minerva stared at him, willing him to solve the mystery, to snap his fingers and announce—

"Fawkes is not on his perch," he said mildly, with a twitch of his eyebrows. The remark was so unexpected that Minerva's jaw actually dropped, and she gaped at him as he went on, "I visited my office briefly before joining you, and he was not there…"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked weakly.

Albus shook his head. "He occasionally goes hunting, of course, but it is well after sunset, and…I wonder…"

Minerva stared at him. "Albus, is—I'm sorry, but is Fawkes the priority at this moment?"

"Hm," said Dumbledore, looking thoughtful. "How is the Mandrake Draught coming?"

"Poppy and Severus said they would finish it before midnight," Minerva said, looking at the clock. It was nearly ten already.

"Then" said Albus, "I propose the following. First, we wait for the Weasleys to arrive. I don't doubt that it will be soon. We will do what we can to make them comfortable."

"What about—?"

"We will also wait for Fawkes to return," he went on, as though she hadn't spoken. "I have a very strong suspicion that he has answers to our questions."

"You…" Minerva began weakly, but then she dropped back in her chair. Perhaps she had gone entirely mad, and this was the end of her life as she had known it. She didn't understand any of what Albus was saying, but perhaps, if she really had gone mad, that didn't matter very much anyway.

There came a knock at the door, and both she and Dumbledore rose. His mildly thoughtful expression remained unchanged as Minerva went to open it. Arthur and Molly Weasley stood on her threshold; Arthur's expression was nothing short of utter, shocked devastation, while Molly had clearly been crying all the way from Ottery St. Catchpole.

"Oh, Molly," Minerva began, "I'm so—"

Molly flung her arms around Minerva, sobbing horribly, and had to be helped to the chair Minerva had just abandoned by the fire. Something about Molly's tears suddenly made Minerva feel more in control. She crouched before her chair, trying to soothe her.

"Now, now," she said softly, her voice catching. "Oh, Molly…I'm so sorry…"

"Why?" croaked Arthur, addressing Dumbledore. "Why—Ginny? I mean—was it an accident?"

"I'm afraid that we don't know why Ginny was taken by the creature in the Chamber of Secrets," Albus said calmly, but gravely. "At least, not yet."

Minerva shot him an irritated, confused look. Molly was practically incoherent with sobs. "She—she's—pureblood," she stammered breathlessly, and then caught Arthur's eye. He looked upset. "I'm—sorry, darling—but—it's true! If the—the one responsible wanted—Muggle-borns—then why—oh, it's too awful…"

Molly collapsed into further sobs, but Minerva was no longer kneeling in front of her. She had straightened up at a strange sound in the corridor that had drawn both Arthur's and Albus's attention as well. From somewhere in the castle, a strange, warm melody seemed to be emanating, echoing through the stone, until it warmed Minerva's chest and filled her with a sensation of hope. She looked at Albus, who had started to smile as he looked at the door, as though his dearest friend had just walked in.

Suddenly, there came two soft knocks, and the door did, indeed, swing open for the umpteenth time in the last half-hour—only this time, a truly bizarre sight greeted them. Minerva gasped.

Standing on the other side of the door were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Gilderoy Lockhart, and Fawkes the phoenix, who fluttered delicately across the room and landed on Albus's shoulder, just as Molly Weasley leapt forward with a scream.

"Ginny!"

And indeed, between Harry and Ron, her small shoulders heaving with sobs, tears tracking through the grime caked on her pale face, stood Ginny Weasley.

Minerva seized the mantel for support with one hand and clapped the other to her chest. She looked at Albus, who was stroking Fawkes with an admiring smile. Molly had now flung her arms around the boys, and Arthur had seized Ginny, previously unshed tears now rolling down his cheeks as he kissed her filthy, flame-red hair; neither of them seemed to notice or care that all three children (and Lockhart) looked and smelled as though they'd been running about in a sewer—it was with a jolt that Minerva saw that Potter actually had blood on his robes.

Molly was still crying as she kissed each boy on his grubby cheek. "You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?" she sobbed.

"I think we'd all like to know that," Minerva agreed faintly, as Arthur managed to pry Molly off the filthy second years.

Looking uncomfortable, Harry edged toward Minerva's desk and deposited on its surface two items. The first appeared to be the Sorting Hat—though where that could possibly have come from, Minerva had no idea. The second was a bloodstained silver sword, studded with rubies the size of chicken eggs.

"Potter?" Minerva asked weakly.

"Maybe you'd better sit down," Ron suggested tensely, looking between his parents, who now held Ginny between them, looking as shocked as they were overjoyed. Ginny, however, was still sobbing silently, even after being reunited with them. Minerva eyed her worriedly, but Albus drew his wand smartly and flicked it. Enough chairs appeared for all of them, and they each found a place where they could clearly see Harry—except for Lockhart, who still stood awkwardly by the door, apparently interested in the handle and locking mechanism, which he was studying intently with a gleaming smile on his face.

Minerva opened her mouth, but Albus touched her arm and shook his head, moving to stand behind her.

"Well," Harry began, "I guess…I guess this starts with me hearing a voice. I heard it in Lock—er, Professor Lockhart's office, at the beginning of the year, when I was in detention. It was saying really…bad stuff, like—like it wanted to kill, and it was hungry…"

What followed was the most extraordinary story Minerva had ever heard in her life. Potter, Weasley, and Granger—who had apparently been helpful even after she had been Petrified—had managed to figure out nearly all that Albus himself had known about the Chamber of Secrets, including the creature that lived within it. Even more, they had gone into the Forbidden Forest on Hagrid's advice—after suspecting him to be guilty—and met the acromantula Aragog, whom Minerva had only ever heard of in passing, and had been glad to keep it that way. Aragog had told them about Myrtle, and from there, they had deduced that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was in that bathroom. When Ginny had been taken, the boys had decided to go after her. She listened raptly to Harry's every word, but the one thing he was not explaining was how the Chamber had been opened in the first place. She looked up at Albus at one point, wondering if he could have been wrong—if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had not been involved at all.

"So, we eavesdropped on the staff meeting today—er, accidentally," Potter said, glancing apologetically at Minerva. "We heard that Professor Lockhart was going to try to get into the Chamber, and we thought we could…help, at least. We sneaked out of Gryffindor Tower and went to his office at sunset, and…we found him trying to pack up and leave. We thought—we thought he should come with us…so we sort of made him come along, and when we got to the bathroom, I used Parseltongue to make the Chamber open, and it did—"

Molly gasped, but Albus held up a hand for silence. Harry shifted nervously.

"When we were down there, Professor Lockhart…he told us about how he's been…erm, taking credit for other wizards' achievements by interviewing them, and putting Memory Charms on them, and then writing his books," he said. Both he and Ron glanced nervously at Molly, who stared back, openmouthed. "Then he said he wanted to do the same thing to us, and leave Ginny down there."

"No!" Molly said furiously, and this time, Arthur restrained her, though he glanced darkly at Lockhart, who was still blithely unaware of the conversation in the room as he flipped the lock back and forth on Minerva's door.

"He tried it with Ron's wand," Harry said to Dumbledore, who seemed to be fighting a smile, "but it backfired and made the tunnel cave in, and now…"

He turned to look at Lockhart, who looked back at him with a vague expression, his attention only drawn by the sudden quiet in the office.

"It was an accident," Ron said guiltily, holding up his broken, Spello-taped wand.

"We got separated by the cave-in, so I had to go and find the door to the Chamber alone," Harry added. "And I don't know how, but Fawkes found me down there, and—he brought me the Sorting Hat, and then that sword came out of it…and I killed the basilisk with it. Fawkes pecked out his eyes first," he added quickly, as though worried that he was making his efforts sound far too grandiose.

The office was silent for a full minute, and Minerva sat forward. "Very well," she said, "so you found out where the entrance was—breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add—but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

Harry hesitated and looked at Ron, and then at Ginny, who was still crying in her mother's arms.

"What interests me most," said Albus suddenly, startling Minerva, for she'd forgotten that he was behind her, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

This was a conversational announcement, as though they had been discussing the weather, and Minerva threw him a glare. She had winced at the mention of the name, but that was nothing next to the Weasleys, who had been completely unprepared.

"W-what's that?" Arthur stammered. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not…" he broke off, looking at his daughter, who had now buried her face in Molly's shoulder. Arthur looked horrified, and Minerva couldn't blame him. "Ginny hasn't been—has she?"

"It was this diary," said Harry surprisingly, and he took something from Ron, hurrying forward to give it to Dumbledore. Minerva had a brief glimpse of a black leather-bound book with a wide hole scorched clear through its middle, the pages dripping with ink, muck and blood. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen."

Minerva watched as Dumbledore examined the diary carefully, turning it over in his long fingers. "Brilliant," he murmured. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He faced the Weasleys. "Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school…traveled far and wide…sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

Minerva looked down at her lap. Albus's words were making her remember her first teaching term at Hogwarts, when she had unwittingly met Tom Riddle for the first time.

"But, Ginny," said Molly, sounding terrified. "What's our Ginny got to do with—with—him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny cried suddenly, startling everyone—except Lockhart, who, Minerva noticed, was now studying her wallpaper curiously. Ginny hiccupped, her tears still pouring down her cheeks. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year—"

"Ginny!" gasped Arthur, looking distressed. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic—"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny miserably, and Minerva felt a pang of sympathy for her. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it—"

Albus, too, had apparently taken pity on her, and stepped in. "Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort."

Ginny looked stunned, as though she didn't dare believe it, but allowed her mother to usher her towards the door, where Albus now stood, holding it open.

"Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he advised Ginny with a warm smile that she almost managed to return. He addressed Molly. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice—I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" said Ron excitedly, from where he sat by Minerva.

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," said Albus kindly. He patted her shoulder and sent her off with her parents. He watched them go, then faced Minerva and the boys, the only people still in the room besides Lockhart, who was now running his finger down the spines of Minerva's books, one by one.

"You know, Minerva," Albus said thoughtfully, his mysterious smile now irrepressible, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?" He gave her a slight wink, and something broke inside of her. She felt a soaring sensation in her chest—it was as though Potter's story had finally landed, and the one, important truth was clear. It was all over.

"Right," she said smartly, holding his gaze. She glanced back at the boys, who were looking very happy indeed. Minerva couldn't resist the temptation to tease them, however, and added in a grim tone, "I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore, twitching an eyebrow in amusement.

Minerva left the room at a brisk walk, so that the boys wouldn't hear it when she finally broke into an exuberant run.


After alerting the kitchens and helping to wake the entire school at a little after one o'clock in the morning, Minerva went to the hospital wing to help with the administration of the Mandrake potion, where she was pleased to see it was taking effect. Nearly-Headless Nick floated past her with a cheerful, teetering nod on her way in, and she saw that Penelope Clearwater was being quietly introduced by Percy Weasley to his parents, who sat beside Ginny's bed.

"Can I go to the feast now?" Colin Creevey begged, practically bouncing on the bed where he sat, being examined by Poppy. "I'm starving!"

"Not until I've finished," said Poppy sternly, bending and flexing all of his joints in turn. "Sit still for another minute, and I'll be right back."

Poppy moved over to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was now awake and sitting up on his bed, and Hermione Granger, who had received her Draught and was breathing normally, though her eyes were still closed. Poppy bent over Hermione, examining her briefly. "She'll be awake soon," she told Minerva, as she came closer to the end of the bed. "Up you get, Finch-Fletchley, let's see how you're doing…"

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," said Penelope Clearwater as she passed Justin's bed, positively beaming from ear-to-ear as she held Percy Weasley's hand. Minerva caught Poppy's eye, amused, and Poppy chuckled.

"She gets to leave!" Colin Creevey cried indignantly, as Poppy watched Justin stretch his arms over his head.

"You're fit to go," she told him exasperatedly, "and would you please take Mr. Creevey with you?"

Justin laughed. "Thanks!" he said delightedly, jumping up and going to Creevey's bed. "C'mon, Colin!"

"YES!" Colin roared, and the boys sprinted out of the hospital wing, the door slamming behind them just as Hermione Granger's eyes opened, and she sat bolt upright in alarm.

"Relax, Miss Granger, take a breath," Minerva said, bending quickly to rest her hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're all right…"

"Ron—and Harry!" she gasped. "What—where—?"

"They're perfectly all right—they're downstairs, everything is fine," Poppy told her soothingly, gently moving Minerva out of the way. "Can you take a deep breath for me—?"

"But the Chamber—"

"The Chamber has been closed," said Poppy, with a gentle smile. "Now, deep breath—"

"They did it?" Hermione shrieked, leaping off the bed and looking overjoyed. She ran her fingers through her hair, her luminous smile revealing her large front teeth as she laughed. "I don't believe it—I don't believe it!"

And she sprinted away, directly out of the hospital wing, ignoring Poppy's shouts.

"Let her go, I suppose," Minerva said to Poppy, who was staring openmouthed after the girl. "Is that everyone?"

"All done," Poppy replied, with a relieved sigh.

"A-hum," said a quiet voice near the door. They turned to see Argus Filch standing just inside the hospital wing doors, somehow looking both nervous and disgruntled as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Oh," Poppy said, with a slight smile. She gave him a nod and held up one finger, before hurrying back to her office door and pushing it open.

Mrs. Norris, fully restored and looking as unpleasantly suspicious as ever, trotted out, her tail held high. She eyed Poppy for a moment—and then she saw Filch. The scrawny cat sped towards him and leapt lightly into his outstretched arms.

Filch's expression was as close to a beaming smile as Minerva had ever seen it as he took his cat and stumped out of the hospital wing.

"Now that's everyone," Poppy said, smiling. "Shall we go down to the feast?"

"You go on ahead. I'll be down in a moment," Minerva told her. Poppy followed her gaze and nodded once, walking briskly to the doors and closing them behind her.

Minerva turned to the only remaining occupied bed. Molly and Arthur sat on either side of Ginny, who was curled up under the blankets, soundly asleep. Molly's eyes still looked rather damp, but she was smiling down at Ginny, and Arthur simply looked relieved.

"I hope we haven't disturbed her," Minerva said softly, as she stopped at the end of Ginny's bed.

Molly shook her head with a slight smile. "Poppy gave her something to put her right to sleep. She'll be all right." She reached out and stroked Ginny's dirty hair.

"I hope so," Minerva said honestly. "She is a remarkable young lady." She hesitated. "I only wish—"

Arthur interrupted her. "Thank you," he said warmly, and Minerva blinked. "For everything. We couldn't be happier to have you looking out for our children."

Molly squeezed his hand and smiled at Minerva, who felt a small amount of the guilt in her chest lighten.

"I don't imagine you'd like to leave her, but I'll send some food up for you," she said gently. "And Professor Dumbledore is planning on cancelling the end-of-year exams. If you'd like to take her home early…"

"Oh, no, she's already fought us on that," said Arthur quickly, with a laugh.

"She'll be staying until the end of term," Molly agreed, unable to stop her own smile.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Minerva.

She left the Weasleys and headed down to the Great Hall, where the feast was still in full swing in the wee hours of the morning. Exuberant, overjoyed students dashed back and forth between the tables in their pajamas and slippers, greeting the basilisk's victims with cheers and hugs, piling plates with food, and proposing toasts to the announcement of the cancellation of exams.

As the time ticked past three o'clock, Minerva found she was unable to keep herself from yawning where she sat in her customary chair on Albus's right.

"You ought to go to bed," Pomona said kindly, patting her arm. "You've had a stressful day."

"I think I might," Minerva sighed, rising. "Good night—"

"HAGRID!"

Suddenly, from the center of the Gryffindor table, and echoing across the hall, shouts and cheers of recognition were rising up around a very familiar enormous figure.

"Hagrid's back!"

"Yes!"

Cheers and applause started up, as Hagrid, beaming hugely, bent and wrapped his enormous arms around Harry, Ron, and Hermione all at once. They hugged him back enthusiastically, even though it seemed they may have been suffocating. Other Gryffindors were jumping up, clapping Hagrid on the back, welcoming him home. In his delight, Hagrid looked up at the staff table. Blushing scarlet, he raised an enormous hand and waved at Minerva and Albus.

They stood side-by-side, he with an arm around her shoulders—for tears of joy had begun streaming unabashedly down her face.