Professor McGonagall led the pack with Longbaugh and Flitwick barging in after her.

"My word. Mason! Weasley! Are you two alright?" Professor McGonagall said with a start, looking between the Hammer, Ginny, Fawkes and the hole in the ground.

"I-" Harry untangled himself and was helped to his feet by Professor Longbaugh, Professor Flitwick assisting Ginny.

"I think we're all a little cold." Harry spoke finally, succumbing to a shiver.

"Yes, of course, please come with me." Professor McGonagall led them out the door and down the halls to her office. She knocked twice as a polite announcement before opening the door. For a moment there was silence with Harry and Ginny standing in the doorway covered in muck, slime, and in the Hammer's case, blood. Then there was a scream.

"Ginny!" It was Molly Weasley, who had been sitting and crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet with Arthur not far behind her and the both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

Harry grinned, catching the Chief standing next to the mantelpiece beaming. Fawkes flew in past them and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder just as Molly dragged Harry into her embrace.

"You saved her! Oh Harry, thank you! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that." Professor McGonagall said like she had just recovered from palpitations.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who took off his hat and brushed it off before walking in and laying what remained of the Diary on the desk. He pulled out his notebook and shook it in front of the fire, a few droplets sprinkling out and sizzling in the flames.

The Hammer started talking and didn't seem to stop. He started with meeting the ghost of Myrtle Warren in October, the cold case, the voice in the walls, how Hermione and Neville had been working on causes and defences against petrification. He told them about how Hermione had been the one to leave him the note in her hand about the Basilisk. He told them about interrogating Professor Lockhart, to which Longbaugh coughed and gave him a little wave of his hand to move it along - and finally he walked them through how he had found the entrance to the Chamber in Myrtle's bathroom and Tom and Ginny with it.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him during a pause, "So you broke about a hundred school rules in finding the entrance despite ample warning to wait for help to arrive, but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Mason?"

The Hammer, his voice growing hoarse, told them about his preparation, leaving out the names of all the different Weasleys involved and moved on to Fawkes' timely arrival. He stopped, looking to the Chief, he hadn't mentioned Ginny's name so far or how the Diary fit into the picture. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, tears still coursing silently down her cheeks. The Chief grinned, looking over Harry in his torn robes.

"What interests me most," he interjected, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania."

"W-what's that?" Mr. Weasley spoke in a stunned voice, "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not… Ginny hasn't been… has she?"

"It was this diary," Harry picked up the punctured book and waved it. "Tom said he made it when he was sixteen."

The Chief took it from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at it - flipping through a few burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant." He murmured to himself, "Of course he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"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 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 recognisable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley, "What's our Ginny got to do with - with him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed, "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year-"

"Ginny!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, "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!"

"She's-" Harry spoke up, thinking about what Hermione had said, "She's growing up, Arthur. Sometimes a girl just wants a friend that understands her and is willing to listen. Tom's pure evil, but he was charming when he felt like it. He tried to lie to me as well."

Ginny flushed scarlet, staring in wonder at Harry.

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing straight away." The Chief cut in. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Voldemort." he strode over to the door and opened it, "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up." He added with a twinkle in his eye, "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I dare say the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione and Luna and the rest?" The Hammer asked.

"There has been no lasting harm done." Dumbledore said.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, Mr. Weasley following, looking deeply shaken.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," She responded, back to proper form, also moving to the door, "I'll just leave you to deal with Mr. Mason, shall I?"

"Certainly." The Chief said.

She left and Dumbledore took a seat on the corner of Professor McGonagall's desk, looking Harry over.

"You know, Harry, I used to have an ensemble just like that. Hat and all. I'm afraid you might be a little more than half a century too late for its popularity." The Chief picked up Harry's slimy hat from the desk, shaking it a bit before making it clean with a wave of his wand.

"I still like it." Harry said, receiving his fedora back from Dumbledore.

"Though, I must apologise, Harry, for not taking more serious action when you attempted to warn me earlier in the year about all of this. I feel you and your team are well deserving of Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - despite your dismissal of the competition, two hundred points apiece for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."

The Chief got up from the desk and crossed to one of the chairs by the fire, using one hand to invite Harry to the other, "Please sit, Harry. I have a feeling we'll be here a while."

The Hammer took the seat gratefully, sinking in and feeling the welcome warmth of the flames as the day drained out of him.

"I have to commend you, Harry. You must have shown me great loyalty for Fawkes to have answered your call."

"That so? I figured it was all part of your plan, Chief. You struck me as a natural schemer."

Dumbledore gave a wry smile, "While that may be true, Fawkes won't simply listen to me, Harry. He is, in my experience, an excellent judge of character and loyalty. Does this mean your opinion of me has changed?"

Harry looked up to the ceiling, resting the top of his head against the back of the chair before rolling it down from left to right, "I suppose so, Chief. After that song and dance with the Cintamani stone, I didn't know if I could trust you - or if you even trusted me."

"I worry about you, Harry. You're so young and yet you've jumped headfirst into accepting all the responsibilities of someone much older. But even if I worry, I do trust you."

Harry looked at the Chief sidelong, "I guess all of this proves that I trust you too. But I stand by what I said when you were leaving: the truth is the most important thing we can get to."

Dumbledore gave a deferrential snort, "Be that as it may, Harry, sometimes you must learn when the truth is appropriate."

"Like I said Chief, natural schemer."

The Hammer stared into the flames a while, the light crackling amongst the logs.

"You said he was brilliant, Chief. Tom Riddle, I mean."

"Yes. Academically he was an exemplary student. To the public, during his time as Tom Riddle, he was a role model."

"He - well, whatever was in the diary - it told me that when he made it, he did it with Dark Magic. Something complex and 'to some, vile.' He said. Do you know what it could be?"

Dumbledore stared into the dancing flames, silent for some time.

"I don't, Harry. I find it regrettable. I wish I had the answer for you. Though depending on the depths of its darkness, I fear I would not tell you."

"I just want to know if there's anything more - anything else like that. Any other diaries with echoes of Tom Riddle hidden in them. I don't have to tell you how dangerous that might be." The Hammer spun his hat in both hands, fingers on one hand pinching the brim and passing it to the other.

The Chief grumbled, fingers steepled beneath his half moon glasses, the firelight dancing in his eyes giving him a sharp, analytical look.

"Did you come back in time to help Professor Longbaugh with Lockhart?" Harry asked.

"Ah," Dumbledore looked up from his thoughts in the hearth, "yes - I was. It was a most unfortunate business but the Ministry's Aurors have taken him. I dare say you've been busy in my absence."

"Is he going to receive a proper trial?" The Hammer asked.

"I should hope so, though that will be an issue best left to the Wizengamot." Dumbledore rubbed his hands together, leaning closer to the fire.

Harry tucked his knees up and wrapped his arms around his legs. He looked his age sitting in the firelight - young and exhausted wearing a hat his father had bought him.

"Tom gave me that 'we're not so different, you and I' talk. He said I was the first Parselmouth since him and Slytherin."

"Did he now?" Dumbledore asked, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows, "What do you make of it?"

"I figure he just likes talking. That or he might be onto something, but I can't quite figure out where it's going. All I do know is that there are a lot of loose ends. When this, " he put his feet back to the floor and waved one arm vaguely around them, "is all over, I can go back to Myrtle and finally give her an answer to who killed her. We can do something for Hagrid after he gets out, can't we? He was framed, Chief, and now we finally have the evidence to let him be a normal wizard again."

Dumbledore began to laugh, honest and earnest.

"Harry, I believe that's the nicest thing anyone has offered to do for our wayward gameskeeper - though it would seem Voldemort had transferred some of his own powers into you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure…"

"So that's why I can speak snake, you think?"

"That and perhaps more, Harry."

The Hammer held up both of his hands, looking at them back and front, "Well I don't feel myself turning into a Dark Lord. I certainly don't own any land so I wouldn't qualify for peerage."

Dumbledore laughed again, stroking his beard to straighten it out. "I do suggest, Harry, that you go get some food and take a well earned sleep. Go down to the feast while I write Azkaban - we need our gameskeeper back. And I'll have to make an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too." He got up and took a seat behind Professor McGonagall's desk, fishing out a quill and a bottle of ink, "We'll be needing a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. We do seem to run through them, don't we?"

Harry put his hat back on and walked to the door. As he reached for the handle, the door burst open so violently it bounced off the wall behind it.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, a look on his face of barely restrained fury. Under his arm, almost mummified in bandages, was Dobby.

"Good evening, Lucius." Dumbledore said pleasantly.

Lucius almost knocked the Hammer over, sweeping straight past him and into the room. Dobby scurried after him, crouching at the hem of his master's cloak with a look of abject terror.

"So!" Malfoy almost spat, eyes fixed on the Chief, "you've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius," Dumbledore smiled serenely, "The other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Mr. Malfoy lost what little colour there normally was to his face, his eyes still burning with fury.

"So - have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered, "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have as a matter of fact."

"Well," Malfoy spat, "Who is it?"

"The same person it was last time, Lucius." Dumbledore replied, "But this time Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

The Chief held up the small black book with the large hole through the centre, watching Mr. Malfoy's reaction. Harry, on the other hand, was watching Dobby.

The elf was doing something odd - his great eyes fixed onto Harry's. He pointed at the diary, and then to Malfoy, and then hit himself hard on the head with his fist. The Hammer read the message loud and clear.

"I see…" Malfoy spoke in a drawl.

"A clever plan," Dumbledore continued, "because if Harry here -" Lucius shot a sharp look at the Hammer, "and his friends had not discovered the true nature of this book, why - Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever be able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…"

Malfoy said nothing, his expression suddenly neutral.

"And just imagine," The Chief pressed on, "What might have happened then. The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure blood families. Imagine the effect of Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

"How… very fortunate." Malfoy replied haltingly.

Dobby continued to point to the diary, then to Malfoy, then punching himself in the head. The Hammer nodded. Dobby seemed to be relieved, but backed away into a corner, silently twisting his own ears in punishment.

"Not curious how Gin got a hold of that dark artifact?" The Hammer spoke up.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" Lucius said.

"Because you gave it to her, Lucy. In Flourish and Blotts during the fight with Arthur. You slipped it in there and tossed it back."

Malfoy scowled, hand clenching and unclenching, "Prove it."

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," Dumbledore gave Harry a smile, "not now that Riddle's essence has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you…"

Lucius's hand twitched as though it wanted for a wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenched open the door, and as the elf hurried up to him, he kicked him right through it. Dobby squealed with pain all the way along the corridor. The Hammer took a moment to think.

"Hey, Chief." Harry turned to the headmaster, "You think I can give that diary back to Lucy?"

"Certainly, Harry, though do hurry, there is a feast."

The Hammer grabbed the diary, removing the fang before stepping outside, stepping on the heel of his shoe to remove his foot from it and peeling off the slimy, filthy sock. He shoved the mangled diary into it before running down the corridor after them.

"Hey, Lucy." He called out to Malfoy, "I've got something for you."

Harry forced the whole thing into Malfoy's hand.

"What the-?"

Lucius peeled the filthy sock off the book and tossed it aside, looking between the ruined book and the Hammer like he wanted to strangle him.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter." He whispered, "They were meddlesome fools, too."

He turned to leave, "Come Dobby, I said, come!"

Dobby didn't move. He had caught the Hammer's disgusting sock and was looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.

"Master has given Dobby a sock." The elf said in wonder, "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" Malfoy spat, "What did you say?"

"Dobby has got a sock," Dobby said in disbelief, "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free."

Malfoy's expression devolved into a snarl. He lunged at Harry, who moved into a boxer's stance. "You've lost me my servant, boy!"

Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter-Mason!"

There was a loud bang and Malfoy was thrown backwards, crashing down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. Harry bounded after him, pulling the brass knuckles from his belt pouch.

The Hammer landed atop Lucius before he could stand, his first blow landing on the man's face brass and all.

"I told you, Lucy!" The Hammer yelled, pulling back for another punch,

"-rearrange your-" and another,

"stupid face!"

A hand grabbed Harry's wrist and yanked him off of Lucius Malfoy, whose nose was broken and bloody.

"I do believe you've lost, Lucius." Dumbledore said.

Dobby stood nearby, finger pointed down at him, "You shall go now. You shall not touch Harry Potter-Mason. You shall go now."

Malfoy gave an enraged scream curdled by the blood dripping down onto the stone floor before swinging his cloak and scuttling out of sight.

"You really must work on your temper, Harry." Dumbledore started, but was interrupted when Dobby tackled Harry into a hug.

"Harry Potter-Mason freed Dobby!" He yelled, shrill voice piercing with the moonlight reflected in his orb-like eyes, "Harry Potter-Mason set Dobby free!"

"Least I could do, pal." Harry said with a grin, "just promise to never try to save my life again."

The elf broke into a wide, toothy grin.

"One question, Dobby." Harry asked whilst Dobby pulled on the filthy sock with shaking, gleeful hands, "You told me this didn't have anything to do with Voldy."

"It was a clue, sir," Dobby's eyes widened, "Dobby was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord before he changed his name, could be named freely, you see?"

The Hammer nodded, "I think I'll just keep calling him Tom."

The Chief pat Harry on the back, "Now that this is concluded, I believe you're still owed a celebration."

Dobby looked between him and Harry before giving Harry another hug.

"Harry Potter-Mason is greater by far than Dobby knew!" He sobbed, "Farewell, Harry Potter-Mason!" And he disappeared in a final, loud crack.

Neville ambushed an exhausted Harry when he came into the Great Hall. The two of them were the only ones not in their pyjamas.

"Hammer! You did it! You're alive!"

"I sure hope so, Nev. What happened to you and Sundance?"

"The Aurors showed up and grabbed Professor Lockhart, then they started asking us all these questions - Professor Longbaugh convinced them about your story and when they took one look at Lockhart, he just started telling them everything he told you all over again!"

Harry smiled an exhausted smile.

"So how did you do it, Hammer?"

He told Neville all about it on their way to eat - interrupting himself only to grab extra large helpings of food and to accept congratulatory pats on the back from the Weasley twins and their brother, Ron. Justin even came over from the Hufflepuff table to apologise for suspecting him. Not too long after, Hermione came in, a light in her eyes as she ran toward them yelling, "You solved it! You solved it!" Before wrapping her arms around Harry's grimy neck. After a moment she pulled Neville in too, and the team celebrated their success.

The celebration continued on well into the night, and Hagrid joined them at three in the morning, cuffing the three of them so hard on the shoulders that Harry almost lost his hat into the trifle. It was smiles all around as the obscene amount of points that their investigation team had earned drove the competition for the House Cup down to a Ravenclaw lead with Hufflepuff a short way behind.

At some point in the feast, the Chief took the stand and announced that end of year exams would be cancelled, much to Hermione's chagrin - she had already created a set of enormous, colour coded study binders that she had planned on using in her revisions. In addition to that, he announced that Professor Lockhart wouldn't be returning for the next year - or any year after that until the unnamed charges lodged against him were solidified and he served his term in Azkaban. Many of the female students had horrified looks on their faces at the news, Hermione included. The Hammer finally had his turn to be smug, but he was too exhausted to do anything more than reach over and take hold of her wrist. A majority of the students cheered - and quite a number of the teachers too. Harry couldn't help but notice Longbaugh whistling during the applause.