Chapter 31 – Partings
Harry had known that Hagrid was not supposed to use magic since the first time they'd ever met, though he had never asked his large friend about the circumstances of his expulsion, out of respect for his feelings. Now Harry almost resented Tom Riddle for the burden of this new knowledge, and worse, the task of keeping it a secret from his friends.
Harry feared that Millie and Blaise would turn on Hagrid if they knew the truth. Blaise, proud and over-conscious of appearances, would never have befriended the gigantic, sometimes awkward gamekeeper if it hadn't been for Harry's influence. As for Millie, she wasn't one for making friends in the first place, and Harry considered her affection for her cat stronger than any she could feel for Hagrid. If she found out that Hagrid and his love for dangerous creatures was connected to Mamon's current condition, Harry doubted even Hagrid's gigantic stature would be enough to save him.
He longed to talk about it with Hagrid directly, but didn't know how to explain his newfound information to Hagrid without insulting him. He was loath to mention the diary to any adult, certain that the secrets it contained would be used against Hagrid.
There was a part of Harry that still believed in Hagrid's innocence. He was certainly guilty of bringing a dangerous creature into the school 50 years ago, but did that necessarily mean he would commit the same mistake all these years later? If the beast was never caught, wasn't it possible it was now acting alone?
This was all hopeful guesswork, of course. Someone had to write that message on the wall, and Harry was positive the beast could never do the job, not with all the wriggling, hairy legs it possessed.
While Harry agonized in private, the rest of the second years were tasked with selecting electives for next year.
"I have no idea what to do," Harry said aloud as they read over the class lists, referring several situations at once, though his friends assumed he meant only his course of study.
Millie had the class list in front of her, though she was busy reading a letter from her parents that had just arrived by owl. She scowled as she read its lengthy paragraphs, then finally balled the parchment up in her fist, tossing it to the floor without another glance.
She saw Harry and Blaise's looks of curiosity, and with an indifferent shrug, she stated, "They had some advice on what classes I should take. A load of rubbish."
"Should we all sign up for the same classes?" Harry suggested. "We could continue dividing up the homework that way."
Millie demurred, "I think the best strategy is to divide and conquer. If we all master different subjects, then as a group, we'll be unstoppable, no matter what we might come up against in the future."
"What do you think, Blaise?" asked Harry.
Blaise looked carelessly at the list of electives, twirling a spoon around one of his fingers. "I don't think it really matters what I pick," he said, "I think most everyone else is considering what kind of career they want in the future. But since I plan to follow mum's example and marry rich, I'll be too busy living fabulously to pursue something as mundane as a job."
Harry looked again at the courses listed, this time in horror. Was he really expected to know what he wanted to do with the rest of life now? How could the school expect him to make such an important decision at age twelve?
Blaise, who had continued with his fantasy of the lovely home he would build with his future spouse's money, was cut short by the appearance of the very person he thought to emulate. Mrs. Zabini stepped into the Great Hall and made directly for the Slytherin table, Gilderoy Lockhart bobbing in her wake.
Blaise had his back turned, and did not notice her until she was nearly on top of the trio.
"Mum!" Blaise exclaimed with a mixture of excitement and terror, "What are you doing here?"
"I have come to take you home, Blaise," Mrs. Zabini said, her dark eyes flashing.
Blaise stood up with such rapidity that he nearly toppled the long bench to the floor, along with Harry and every other student seated on it. He started to ask his mother why, with such suddenness, she was pulling him from school.
"I think you know why," said Mrs. Zabini. "How could you fail to tell me about the attacks on students? Someone could have died! And what if it had been you?"
"You're exaggerating, mum," Blaise said in a supplicatory tone, "No one has died. And besides, it's only muggle-borns being attacked anyway."
"Oh, so now you think you're invincible?" Mrs. Zabini said, her voice rising to such a pitch that it nearly cracked. Several students turned their heads to stare at the family squabble.
"Now, now, Edana," Lockhart suddenly interjected, "I'm sure Blaise is in no trouble here, at all. Why, with my skills, I'd protect him at all costs. I would even lay down my life for him, if it meant..."
Lockhart would never be able to finish his fine sentiment. Mrs. Zabini silenced him with a look of pure rage, and he was quelled in an instant.
"You..." she said to Lockhart with such venom, Harry might have cheered had it not been for the seriousness of the situation, "You and the rest of the faculty... What do you mean by trying to keep all this a secret? The parents should have been notified immediately after the first attack. Now two students have been harmed, and I have to learn about it in a letter from you?"
Lockhart, missing the point of her speech entirely, brightened up and said, "So you did get my Valentine!"
"I have half a mind to go to the governors with this cover-up!" Mrs. Zabini declared, ignoring Lockhart's statement as easily has he had her own, "I'll have you know that I am close friends with Narcissa Malfoy, and a word from me would be all it would take to have her husband shut this place down!"
"Mum, you can't!" Blaise cried. His faith in his mother's powerful connections was strong enough that he'd believe any of her treats. Even Lockhart had the decency to look a bit worried, realizing that the angry woman in front of him might have the power to put him out of a job.
At that moment, Snape, who had casually watched the drama unfold from his perch at the faculty table, silently descended on the group, asking calmly if there was anything he could do.
Mrs. Zabini appeared to relax under the influence of another staff member, and she was able to answer Snape in as smooth and oily a way as the Potions master himself.
"No thank you, Professor. I have just come to collect my son. I'm sure I'm not the only parent who will do so in the near future."
"I understand you," Snape said without emotion. He motioned to Blaise and told him to return to his dorm to collect his things immediately.
Blaise tried to protest, but another look from his mother told him resistance would be futile, and he began to slink away with slumped shoulders.
"You'd better go with him, Harry," said Mrs. Zabini with authority, "You're coming, too."
Harry was already prepared to rise and follow his friend, when Snape rested a cold hand on his shoulder, arresting his progress.
"I am afraid that won't be possible." Snape said with the same coolness as before.
If Harry had to face the look Mrs. Zabini now directed at the Potions Master, he would have run screaming for the forbidden forest. But Snape remained perfectly still as Mrs. Zabini demanded to know why he was attempting to stop her from taking Harry along with her son.
"The reason is very simple," said Snape, "Students can only leave school grounds with their parent or guardian's permission. It is unfortunate, but Harry Potter must remain here for the remainder of term. After all, you aren't his mother."
Mrs. Zabini drew herself to her full height and stared down the length of her nose at Snape with a look of utter contempt. "We'll see about that."
She did not attempt to fight Snape on the matter right then, but instead turned to Harry with compassionate eyes, her entire demeanor changing when she spoke to him.
"Harry, don't worry. I promise I will return for you. In the meantime, you have to promise to write Blaise daily. If you miss even one day, I swear I'll be right back here to take you home with me, no matter what this dirty oil slick has to say."
Snape remained impassive to Mrs. Zabini's taunt. His hand still rested heavily on Harry's shoulder, preventing him even from following Mrs. Zabini from the Great Hall has she half-walked, half-dragged her son along with her, Lockhart still following like a besotted fool.
"Funny," Harry said aloud as he watched them go, "I would think you'd jump at the chance to have me out of this place forever. Are you hoping I'll be eaten by a monster first? Sir?"
He added this last "sir" with enough sarcasm to sour milk, but Snape did not even deign to give him a response. Giving Harry only a light shove as he released his grip on his shoulder, he walked away without another word, and disappeared behind the faculty exit located at the back of the hall.
Harry and Millie were left only to stare at one another in silence, wondering what they were supposed to do with one third of their trio gone.
Neither one of them had much of an appetite to continue their meal. Harry suggested that they remove to their dormitories, or perhaps trek down to Hagrid's cabin to tell him of what just happened. Harry had been avoiding all discussion of Hagrid since the revelation of Riddle's diary, but heir or no heir, Harry was sure Hagrid would commiserate with him over the sudden and unexpected loss of his best friend.
Millie, while not quite on board with Harry's proposed visit to Hagrid's, agreed that it was time to go, and Harry followed her lead as she rose from her seat.
There were plenty of curious stares to watch them as they made their way to the door. It was a popular mealtime for the students, and while the Great Hall hadn't been as full as it was during one of their holiday feasts, there were still plenty of gawkers to witness the spectacle of Mrs. Zabini's arrival. Harry hadn't thought of them while the conversation took place, but he was aware of their whispers now, and found himself musing over how the rumors would spin this one. Perhaps they would say that Mrs. Zabini suspected Harry like everyone else, and she pulled her son from school to keep him from fraternizing with someone so dangerous. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh, if he wasn't still reeling.
"Harry!" a voice called to him. He stopped in his tracks just before he reached the entrance to the hall, and turned to see Hermione Granger rushing toward him. Neville Longbottom, as usual, followed close behind.
"Harry!" said Granger again as she drew closer, "What's going on? What happened to Blaise?"
Harry, unsure of what to say, turned his head toward Millie. She had stopped to see what the fuss was about when she heard Harry's name called, but seeing that it was only Granger again, she was shaking her head from side to side, looking exasperated. Harry felt that he could handle the Gryffindor students on his own, and taking pity on Millie, motioned to her to continue on without him.
"His mum was worried because of what's been happening at school," Harry said in response to Granger's question. "She heard about the attacks on students, and was worried he'd be in danger."
"But Blaise is a pure-blood, isn't he?" asked Longbottom nervously, "She doesn't think he'll be attacked?"
Harry knew enough of Longbottom's family history to know his was one of the pure-blood families who hadn't been sorted into Slytherin for generations. While he might not be banking on Salazar Slytherin's legacy to protect him, as Harry's fellow housemates did, Longbottom had certainly considered himself protected by his lineage.
"Blaise thought he was safe," Harry said, deciding to offer Longbottom whatever hope he could without lying, "But Mrs. Zabini is very protective. I don't think she wanted anything left to chance."
"Oh, Harry," said Granger, actually reaching out to take his hand in an affectionate gesture, "I'm so sorry. It must be awful."
"Er, thanks..." Harry said, doubtful of what to say. He gave Granger's hand a light squeeze that he hoped conveyed gratitude, then pulled away from the brief connection to ask, "But what about you? Are your parents going pull you out of school too?"
Granger tossed her bushy hair and said proudly, "Of course not. I haven't told them about any of this. I'm not going anywhere until I've found the heir."
Harry admired her courage, though her boast did remind him of something else Mrs. Zabini had said.
"Don't you think they should still know about it?" Harry asked, "I mean, Blaise hadn't written to his mum of the attacks either, but she thought the school should have let parents know. You don't think Dumbledore is trying to cover this up, do you?"
A shadow of doubt passed over Granger's face for a moment, but then her expression brightened, and her eyes sparkled as a new possibility struck her.
"That's an interesting point, Harry! Dumbledore not notifying our parents does seem rather suspicious, doesn't it? Do you suppose he has some idea of who the heir is already? Perhaps he wants to handle it himself! Oh, but that doesn't make any sense, does it? If he knew who it was, he would have stopped that person before they could petrify the Ravenclaw boy. Unless he does know, and he's protecting that person..."
Harry's stomach clenched. Granger was merely speculating, but she seemed to be veering dangerously close to the truth. Dumbledore had been at the school when the Chamber was first opened. He would have known that Hagrid was the culprit. And Hagrid was so fond of Dumbledore. He was always ready to boast about Dumbledore's goodness, and told Harry on more than one occasion that it was Dumbledore who got him the job as gamekeeper. If Dumbledore was keeping these attacks quiet, it was to protect Hagrid more than anything. But Dumbledore could not be the only wizard to remember the previous incident. It was only a matter of time before Granger, or someone like her, pointed the finger at his friend.
Harry made his excuses to Hermione and Neville, telling them that after everything that had happened, he wanted only to go to bed. This was partly true, as he did long for the sweet oblivion that slumber would bring, if only for a few hours. But his true motive was to slip away. He needed to see Hagrid. Granger let him go, but not before pulling him into an affectionate hug that seemed to surprise both Harry and Longbottom alike. Harry was aware of the eyes of the other students, still watching them, no doubt wondering what Granger was thinking. He wasn't sure if her friendliness toward him were bravery, or merely recklessness. Longbottom parted ways with Harry with a simple shake of the hand, and then Harry was on his way.
After sitting in Hagrid's cabin a quarter of an hour, Harry returned to the castle in low spirits. He wanted desperately to ask Hagrid what he knew about the Chamber of Secrets, but couldn't bring himself to cast suspicion against his friend. Hagrid had no doubt sensed Harry's discomfort and sadness, because he tried to fill Harry's visit with loud conversation, hot tea, and plenty of sugary snacks to improve his mood. But Hagrid's cheerful demeanor only sank Harry's mood lower.
"Don' worry, Harry," Hagrid had said to him in a soothing tone as Harry had prepared to leave, "I know you feel sad abou' Blaise goin' home. But yer oughter trust in Dumbledore. He'll soon get it sorted out, and Blaise will be back in no time."
He spoke of confidence in the headmaster, but Harry thought he saw a bit of fear lurking in Hagrid's dark eyes. It was this glimmer of fear that had Harry worried about the innocence of his friend, and his thoughts were as dark as the waters pressing against the common room windows of the Slytherin common room.
Harry walked past the small groups of whispering students gathered there, senseless to the sudden quiet that fell over them as he made his solitary way up to his dorm room. He was entirely engrossed in his own thoughts until he opened the door to his dormitory, and gasped at the scene within.
It was complete chaos. The bed curtains had been torn asunder and trampled under foot. Harry's trunk lay open and exposed, the possessions it contained strewn about his bed and the floor in disarray. The wardrobes they shared amongst themselves were all wide open, and every robe had been thrown to the floor, pockets turned inside out. Only Blaise's corner of the room was left untouched, though it had been completely cleared off all his possessions.
Harry stared at the mess in disbelief, wondering who could have done this. His first thought was that Blaise had done it before he left, in his haste to collect his things and go home. But Harry soon dismissed this idea. Blaise would have no reason to rifle through Harry's things, and he would never be so disrespectful as to leave the room in this condition, no matter how angry he might have been at leaving.
Harry next reasoned that there must have been an intruder, and his immediate concern was for his cloak. Fortunately, his father's cloak never left his side these days, and he knew it to be safe in his bookbag.
Then Harry remembered. He rushed to his bed, searching for the diary. He'd hidden it beneath his mattress after it revealed Hagrid's connection to the Chamber. He had not touched it in days, but remembering it now, he pushed his hand between the bedframe and the mattress and felt... nothing.
Harry moved his hand underneath the mattress, back and forth, but still he could feel nothing underneath. Frustrated, he flipped the mattress over and scanned the whole area, but it was useless. One glance was all he needed to know for sure. The diary had been stolen.