THREE
Toil and Trouble
***
I was sitting by the fire, reading a book about bats and why they make good familiars. Susan was sitting next to me, knitting. It was the beginning of December, and many of the Hufflepuffs were now wearing hats that she had made. Professor Sprout had one that was moss green and nearly as fluffy as her hair. The professor said that she wore it nearly constantly, as she spent so much time outside and between the greenhouses. Moira Peterson was doing her History of Magic homework. She was writing about the history of Centaur-Human relations, and why they are so difficult, especially because it seems most Centaurs don't think anything really matters.
Ernie Macmillan came in and told us that one of the students had been attacked and frozen. "Colin Creevey - you know, that first-year Gryffindor who's always following Harry around with his camera." The Hufflepuff common room was hushed as Ernie told his story, and only then did I start to realize that there was real danger in these attacks, and there might really be an Heir of Slytherin lurking around, looking for people with Muggle parents. I felt faintly afraid, but I didn't want to waste time worrying about something I really had no hope of changing, especially when there were so many other things to do.
Shortly before Christmas break, there was a dueling club announced. Justin wanted to go, and I came to watch and cheer him on. I didn't think I wanted to be involved in a wizard duel; all I knew about them, I saw in The Sword in the Stone when I was little. I didn't know how to turn into a virus yet. So I sat on the sides, absorbing the demonstrations, and watching the little disasters happen. Then everyone watched as Malfoy and Potter started dueling. A large snake appeared out of Malfoy's wand. Subsequent events(named Gilderoy Lockhart) turned it into a large maddened snake. It slid away - toward Justin! I looked around. Nobody knew what to do! But then Potter rushed toward the snake. He was sort of - hissing. But he looked as afraid as anyone else. The snake, which was about to strike, suddenly relaxed, and turned its head to Potter. What is he doing, I thought. Does he want to get bitten?
"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted at him, and ran from the hall. I went after him. We went to the common room, and found Ernie sitting by the fire. Justin said urgently, "Potter's a Parselmouth! He tried to sic a snake on me! I'm doomed!" He flopped down on the couch.
Ernie's eyes widened. He swore. "That's done it, then. Potter's the Heir, no question."
"What does that mean, Parselmouth?" I asked. "Why does that make him the Heir?"
Ernie turned to me. "Being able to talk to snakes. It's the sure sign of a dark wizard. And not only that; Salazar Slytherin was known for it." He spoke to Justin again. "Don't leave the common room. If he sees you again, he'll be sure to try to finish you off."
"But Ernie," I said, "Haven't there been any good wizards who could talk to snakes?"
"I never heard of any. Why? You got a soft spot for Potter?"
"I just don't think it's that simple. I was there, and he looked as scared as any of us about that snake."
"In any case," said Ernie, "I think it would be a good idea if you stayed out of sight for a couple of days, Justin."
The next morning, Justin still refused to leave the common room. His Herbology class had been canceled, so he figured Potter could be anywhere. I brought him some breakfast when I went up to get my books for Transfiguration. I told him, "You can't be sure he's after you, you know. Most people think Potter is very nice. And Ginny Weasley, in my Herbology class, insists it's not him. She knows him fairly well; he stayed at her house part of last summer."
"I know," he said. "I used to think he was nice too. But now I don't know what to think."
"All I'm saying is, you should wait until you know more before you assume that it's him."
He looked thoughtful, and then said, "Yes, I guess I'll just have to prove it." And he left the common room with a determined stride.
I couldn't believe it when Ernie told me. He'd seen Justin, lying petrified, another victim beside him, and Harry Potter, standing looking at them. Maybe Potter was the Heir.
I didn't want to admit to Ginny how much I doubted what she believed so strongly. Especially because she was taking it really hard. She was upset at her brothers for teasing Harry about being the Heir, treating the accusation as if it were a joke. She was acting really strange, too, sort of jumpy.
When we got back from the Christmas holidays, we were very busy in Herbology class, because of the day we had missed. When I got a chance to talk to Ginny, she wasn't as jumpy as she had been, but she was still pretty depressed. I asked her if she was all right. She said, "Oh," and her eyes got bright.
"What's the matter, Ginny?" I asked.
"Oh, it's just that - everyone thinks Harry's the heir, and I know, I absolutely know, that he's not. That must be especially hard for you to believe. Are you very good friends with Justin?"
"I so much want to believe you, Ginny," I said, "But Ernie is just so convinced, and he's getting everyone else to believe that he's the Heir. I wish I could be as sure as you."
Ginny burst into tears, and big drops splashed into her infusion of runnadyke leaves. Professor Sprout interrupted her lecture on the magical properties of the common purple-flowered plant to excuse Ginny from the rest of class. I asked the professor if I could go with her, and she agreed. She knew I would catch up on my work.
We went up to the castle and sat in a corner against the outside walls. "What is it, Ginny?" I asked again.
She looked at me with haunted eyes. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you. It's all over now. If you'll promise not to tell anyone. Do you want to know how I know that Harry's not the one opening the chamber?" I nodded. "I am," she said, and more tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What do you mean?" I said. I was beginning to be afraid.
She told me about finding the diary, and writing in it, and meeting Tom. "And then the attacks started, and I realized I didn't know where I was when they happened. But I didn't understand, until recently, that Tom was the one making me do it! The date on the diary is from fifty years ago - I heard Ron saying that's when the chamber was opened before! So I flushed the diary down the toilet, and it's over, it's finally over!"
I sat by her while she cried some more, and I told her, "It's not your fault. Everything's going to be fine, once the mandrakes are grown. Nobody got really hurt. And it's not your fault."
Toil and Trouble
***
I was sitting by the fire, reading a book about bats and why they make good familiars. Susan was sitting next to me, knitting. It was the beginning of December, and many of the Hufflepuffs were now wearing hats that she had made. Professor Sprout had one that was moss green and nearly as fluffy as her hair. The professor said that she wore it nearly constantly, as she spent so much time outside and between the greenhouses. Moira Peterson was doing her History of Magic homework. She was writing about the history of Centaur-Human relations, and why they are so difficult, especially because it seems most Centaurs don't think anything really matters.
Ernie Macmillan came in and told us that one of the students had been attacked and frozen. "Colin Creevey - you know, that first-year Gryffindor who's always following Harry around with his camera." The Hufflepuff common room was hushed as Ernie told his story, and only then did I start to realize that there was real danger in these attacks, and there might really be an Heir of Slytherin lurking around, looking for people with Muggle parents. I felt faintly afraid, but I didn't want to waste time worrying about something I really had no hope of changing, especially when there were so many other things to do.
Shortly before Christmas break, there was a dueling club announced. Justin wanted to go, and I came to watch and cheer him on. I didn't think I wanted to be involved in a wizard duel; all I knew about them, I saw in The Sword in the Stone when I was little. I didn't know how to turn into a virus yet. So I sat on the sides, absorbing the demonstrations, and watching the little disasters happen. Then everyone watched as Malfoy and Potter started dueling. A large snake appeared out of Malfoy's wand. Subsequent events(named Gilderoy Lockhart) turned it into a large maddened snake. It slid away - toward Justin! I looked around. Nobody knew what to do! But then Potter rushed toward the snake. He was sort of - hissing. But he looked as afraid as anyone else. The snake, which was about to strike, suddenly relaxed, and turned its head to Potter. What is he doing, I thought. Does he want to get bitten?
"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted at him, and ran from the hall. I went after him. We went to the common room, and found Ernie sitting by the fire. Justin said urgently, "Potter's a Parselmouth! He tried to sic a snake on me! I'm doomed!" He flopped down on the couch.
Ernie's eyes widened. He swore. "That's done it, then. Potter's the Heir, no question."
"What does that mean, Parselmouth?" I asked. "Why does that make him the Heir?"
Ernie turned to me. "Being able to talk to snakes. It's the sure sign of a dark wizard. And not only that; Salazar Slytherin was known for it." He spoke to Justin again. "Don't leave the common room. If he sees you again, he'll be sure to try to finish you off."
"But Ernie," I said, "Haven't there been any good wizards who could talk to snakes?"
"I never heard of any. Why? You got a soft spot for Potter?"
"I just don't think it's that simple. I was there, and he looked as scared as any of us about that snake."
"In any case," said Ernie, "I think it would be a good idea if you stayed out of sight for a couple of days, Justin."
The next morning, Justin still refused to leave the common room. His Herbology class had been canceled, so he figured Potter could be anywhere. I brought him some breakfast when I went up to get my books for Transfiguration. I told him, "You can't be sure he's after you, you know. Most people think Potter is very nice. And Ginny Weasley, in my Herbology class, insists it's not him. She knows him fairly well; he stayed at her house part of last summer."
"I know," he said. "I used to think he was nice too. But now I don't know what to think."
"All I'm saying is, you should wait until you know more before you assume that it's him."
He looked thoughtful, and then said, "Yes, I guess I'll just have to prove it." And he left the common room with a determined stride.
I couldn't believe it when Ernie told me. He'd seen Justin, lying petrified, another victim beside him, and Harry Potter, standing looking at them. Maybe Potter was the Heir.
I didn't want to admit to Ginny how much I doubted what she believed so strongly. Especially because she was taking it really hard. She was upset at her brothers for teasing Harry about being the Heir, treating the accusation as if it were a joke. She was acting really strange, too, sort of jumpy.
When we got back from the Christmas holidays, we were very busy in Herbology class, because of the day we had missed. When I got a chance to talk to Ginny, she wasn't as jumpy as she had been, but she was still pretty depressed. I asked her if she was all right. She said, "Oh," and her eyes got bright.
"What's the matter, Ginny?" I asked.
"Oh, it's just that - everyone thinks Harry's the heir, and I know, I absolutely know, that he's not. That must be especially hard for you to believe. Are you very good friends with Justin?"
"I so much want to believe you, Ginny," I said, "But Ernie is just so convinced, and he's getting everyone else to believe that he's the Heir. I wish I could be as sure as you."
Ginny burst into tears, and big drops splashed into her infusion of runnadyke leaves. Professor Sprout interrupted her lecture on the magical properties of the common purple-flowered plant to excuse Ginny from the rest of class. I asked the professor if I could go with her, and she agreed. She knew I would catch up on my work.
We went up to the castle and sat in a corner against the outside walls. "What is it, Ginny?" I asked again.
She looked at me with haunted eyes. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you. It's all over now. If you'll promise not to tell anyone. Do you want to know how I know that Harry's not the one opening the chamber?" I nodded. "I am," she said, and more tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What do you mean?" I said. I was beginning to be afraid.
She told me about finding the diary, and writing in it, and meeting Tom. "And then the attacks started, and I realized I didn't know where I was when they happened. But I didn't understand, until recently, that Tom was the one making me do it! The date on the diary is from fifty years ago - I heard Ron saying that's when the chamber was opened before! So I flushed the diary down the toilet, and it's over, it's finally over!"
I sat by her while she cried some more, and I told her, "It's not your fault. Everything's going to be fine, once the mandrakes are grown. Nobody got really hurt. And it's not your fault."