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Chapter 33

February 1993

Hogwarts

By February the sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes

were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," Harry heard her

telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting

them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time."

Harry felt nervous about what was going on with the whole Heir of Slytherin.

He did not think that the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve and was probably just waiting a bit.

Nobody, not even the people he knew seemed to have any idea who the Heir was and that was disturbing.

Thankfully Harry with Daphne's help had been spending the past two months practicing bending which seemed to distract both of them a bit.

It was hilarious how Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Daphne had overheard him telling Professor McGonagall "I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him".

"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories

Of the last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…" before Lockhart tapped his nose again and strode off.

Neither Daphne or Harry knew what he had been talking about for a while until Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster had become clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth.

Harry and Daphne hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Bending practice

Session the night before, and they had hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late.

Harry had thought, for a moment, that they had walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped

confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling.

Daphne looked revolted.

They walked over to the Slytherin table where Edmund and the rest of the Slytherins where sitting looking sickened,

"What's going on?" Harry asked him, sitting down next to Daphne and wiping confetti off his bacon.

Edmund pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing

lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either

sides of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle

going in McGonagall's cheek and Snape looked as though someone had just fed

him a large beaker of SkeleGro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who

have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for

you all — and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a

dozen surlylooking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing

golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the

school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my

colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor

Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor

Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the

sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first

person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"I can't believe it, "Edmund said as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson.

"Lockhart is an idiot"Daphne hissed.

"If one of the dwarfs comes up to me I'm setting it on fire "Harry murmured.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the

annoyance of the teachers and students.

After their last class Daphne and Harry holed themselves in the Room of Requirement to destress a bit by blowing things up.

SCENE CHANGE

One day a few weeks later Harry was sitting on his bed when Daphne barged into the room holding what looked to be a diary.

"What do you have there? "He asked.

"I don't know "Daphne said "I just found this in one of the bathroom stalls and could not find who it belonged to".

Harry took the diary and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had

a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he decided to pull a new bottle of ink out of his bedside cabinet and he dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being

sucked into the page, vanished.

Both Harry and Daphne gasped.

Excited, Harry loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at

last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Harry had never written.

"Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

Harry froze.

Tom Riddle

Impossible

Was this the person that he had been dreaming about for years now.

The words faded away, but not before Daphne who had not seen Harry stop had grabbed his quill and started to scribble back.

"Found it in a bathroom"

Harry decided to wait for Riddle's reply.

"Lucky it is that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always

knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"What do you mean?" Harry wrote, taking the quill back from Daphne.

"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up.

Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"I wonder what kind of things "Daphne said "Maybe he knows something about the Chamber of Secrets"

"That's where I am now," Harry wrote quickly. "I'm at Hogwarts. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.

"Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend,

that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the

monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened

the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that

such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given

out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved

trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could

happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was

not imprisoned."

Harry felt his stomach drop at the usage of "died"

Harry nearly upset his ink bottle in his hurry to write back.

"It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know

who's behind them. Who was it last time?"

"I can show you, if you like, "came Riddle's reply. "You don't have to take my word for it.

I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."

Harry hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could

he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at Daphne who looked pensive but eventually nodded and grabbed his hand. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.

"Let me show you."

Harry paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters.

OK

The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping

halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry saw that the little

square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. His

hands trembling slightly, Harry raised the book to press his eye against the little window,

and before he knew what was happening, Harry and Daphne were tilted forward and the window was widening, they felt their body's leave the bed, and they were pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.

Harry felt his feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking, as the blurred shapes around him

came suddenly into focus.

Looking to his side he saw Daphne holding onto him and the two looked around.

He knew immediately where he was. This circular room with the sleeping portraits was

Dumbledore's office — but it wasn't Dumbledore who was sitting behind the desk. A

wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, was reading a

letter by candlelight. Harry had never seen this man before.

"I'm sorry,"Harry said. "I didn't mean to butt in —"

But the wizard didn't look up. He continued to read, frowning slightly. Harry drew nearer

to his desk and said "Er — I'll just go, shall I?"

Still the wizard ignored him. He didn't even seem to have heard him. Thinking that the

wizard might be deaf, Harry raised his voice.

"Sorry I disturbed you. I'll go now," he half-shouted.

Harry then felt Daphne's hand on his shoulder.

"He can't hear us,"She said, still looking at the man.

The wizard then folded up the letter with a sigh, stood up, walked past Harry and Daphne without glancing at them, and went to draw the curtains at his window.

The sky outside the window was ruby-red; it seemed to be sunset. The wizard went back

to the desk, sat down, and twiddled his thumbs, watching the door.

Harry looked around the office.

This must be Hogwarts as Riddle had known it, meaning that this unknown

wizard was Headmaster, not Dumbledore, and he, Harry, was little more than a

phantom, completely invisible to the people of Riddle's time.

There was then a knock on the office door.

"Enter," said the old wizard in a feeble voice.

A boy of about sixteen entered, taking off his pointed hat. A silver prefect's badge was

glinting on his chest. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair.

"Ah, Riddle," said the Headmaster.

Harry paid close attention to the person that had entered.

This was Tom Riddle, the person he had been dreaming about for years.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" said Riddle. He looked nervous.

"Sit down," said Dippet. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh," said Riddle. He sat down, gripping his hands together very tightly.

"My dear boy," said Dipper kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the

you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No," said Riddle at once. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that — to

that —"

Harry then remembered memories about Riddle being in some sort of run down building.

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dippet curiously.

"Yes, sir," said Riddle, reddening slightly.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir," said Riddle. "Muggle father, witch mother."

"And are both your parents —?"

"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just

long enough to name me — Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."

Hmm

That was not something Harry had picked up in his dreams.

Dipper clucked his tongue sympathetically.

"The thing is, Tom," he sighed, "Special arrangements might have been made for you,

but in the current circumstances…"

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" said Riddle, and Harry's heart leapt, and he and Daphne moved closer, scared of missing anything.

"Precisely," said the headmaster. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of

me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the

recent tragedy… the death of poor Myrtle Warren… You will be safer by far at your

orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing

the school. We are no nearer locating the — er — source of all this unpleasantness…"

Harry heard Daphne inhale sharply.

Riddle's eyes had widened.

"Sir — if the person was caught — if it all stopped —"

"What do you mean?" said Dippet with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair.

"Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," said Riddle quickly.

But Harry was sure he was lying.

Dippet sank back, looking faintly disappointed.

"You may go, Tom…"

Riddle slid off his chair and slouched out of the room. Harry and Daphne quickly followed him.

Down the moving spiral staircase they went, emerging next to the gargoyle in the

darkening corridor. Riddle stopped, and so did Harry and Daphne, watching him. Harry could tell that Riddle was doing some serious thinking. He was biting his lip, his forehead furrowed.

Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, he hurried off, Harry and Daphne gilded noiselessly behind him. They didn't see another person until they reached the entrance hall, when a tall wizard with long, sweeping auburn hair and a beard called to Riddle from the marble staircase.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"

Harry and Daphne gaped at the wizard. He was none other than a fifty-year-younger Dumbledore.

"I had to see the headmaster, sir," said Riddle.

"Well, hurry off to bed," said Dumbledore, giving Riddle a penetrating

stare "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…"

He sighed heavily, bade Riddle good night, and strode off. Riddle watched him walk out

of sight and then, moving quickly, headed straight down the stone steps to the

dungeons, with Harry and Daphne in hot pursuit.

But to their disappointment, Riddle led them not into a hidden passageway or a secret

tunnel but to the very dungeon in which they had Potions with Snape. The torches

hadn't been lit, and when Riddle pushed the door almost closed, Harry and Daphne could only just see him, standing stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside.

They could see the figure of Riddle at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a statue. And soon they heard something move beyond the door.

Someone was creeping along the passage. Harry heard whoever it was pass the dungeon

where he,Daphne and Riddle were hidden. Riddle, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, Harry and Daphne tiptoed behind him, forgetting that they couldn't be heard.

For perhaps five minutes they followed the footsteps, until Riddle stopped suddenly, his

head inclined in the direction of new noises. Harry heard a door creak open, and then

someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon… gotta get yeh outta here… C'mon now… in the box…"

Riddle suddenly jumped around the corner. Harry and Daphne stepped out behind him. Harry could see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it. "Evening, Rubeus," said Riddle sharply.

The boy slammed the door shut and stood up.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"

Riddle stepped closer.

"It's all over," he said. "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about

closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

"'N at d'yeh —"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose

you just let it out for exercise and —"

"It never killed no one!" said the large boy, backing against the closed door. From

behind him, Harry could hear a funny rustling and clicking.

"Come on, Rubeus," said Riddle, moving yet closer. "Myrtle's parents will be here

tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their

daughter is slaughtered…"

"It wasn't him!" roared the boy, his voice echoing in the dark passage. "He wouldn'! He

never!"

"Stand aside," said Riddle, drawing out his wand.

His spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind the large boy flew

open with such force it knocked him into the wall opposite. And out of it came

something that made Harry and Daphne let out screams.

A vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a

pair of razor-sharp pincers — Riddle raised his wand again, but he was too late. The

thing bowled him over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight.

Riddle scrambled to his feet, looking after it; he raised his wand, but the huge boy leapt

on him, seized his wand, and threw him back down, yelling, "NOOOOOO!"

The scene whirled, the darkness became complete; Harry felt himself falling and, with a

crash, he and Daphne landed spread-eagled on the floor in his room, Riddle's

diary lying open on his stomach.

Harry and Daphne sat up sweating and shaking.

"Oh my god "Harry murmured.

Daphne looked shaken to

"It was Hagrid, Harry. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets the last time." She said,

Harry didn't believe it.

He didn't like or really interact with Hagrid but he did not seem like a killer

SCENE CHANGE

After talking it over quite extensively Harry and Daphne decided that they would not approach Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more weeks went by with no attack, they became hopeful that this all would be over and they could move on with their life.

Soon It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good.

In March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully

mature," she said.. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital

Wing."

SCENE CHANGE

Months passed and in late May three days before their first exam, Professor Dumbledore made an announcement at breakfast.

"I have good news," he said, and the Great Hall fell silent. "Professor Sprout has

informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to

revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of

them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this

dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering at that even from the Slytherin Table who after all had one of their own Petrified.

Harry felt Daphne give him a small kiss on the cheek and he smiled.

Things were looking up and soon they would be off for the summer.