It was only another hour later that I checked the common room again to see whether it was empty—it was, save for Harry and Ron, who were already sitting on the couch with the Invisibility Cloak folded next to them. With unspoken agreement, we donned the cloak and shuffled towards the portrait hole, knowing that it was now or never on getting our answers from Hagrid.

The trip was a nerve-wracking one. As I'd suspected, professors and ghosts were guarding the hallways en masse, and always as pairs. Professors Sprout and Flitwick were patrolling the main hallway—the Grey Lady and the Fat Friar near flew straight through us as we turned a corner. Ron ended up stubbing his toe when we were only a couple meters away from Professor Snape, though he luckily ended up sneezing at the same time that Ron swore under his breath.

Somehow, we made it out of the castle and onto the grounds. We didn't dare take the cloak off until we had reached Hagrid's front door and were well out of sight; and even as we knocked on the door, we only lifted the front end of the cloak.

When Hagrid opened the door to his house, however, we were greeted by the point of a crossbow bolt. Alarmed, Harry asked, "What's that for?"

"Oh," murmured Hagrid. "What're you three doin' here? Anyway, it's nothin', it's nothin'. I've been expectin'… doesn' matter… sit down, I'll make tea."

We quickly entered the hut, although it was obvious that we were all uncomfortable with Hagrid's unusual behavior. Glancing at one another, Harry asked, "Are you okay, Hagrid? Did you hear about Hermione?"

Hagrid sniffled once, a loud and noticeable gesture. "Oh, I heard, all righ'." He sounded quite upset; then he placed three hot mugs of water—he'd forgotten the teabags—in front of us without another word. He was in the middle of grabbing something that vaguely resembled cake when there was a loud knock at the door.

We all swerved to the door, startled. Harry, Ron, and I bolted to our feet and swirled the cloak around us. Only when we were completely out of sight did Hagrid move forward and open the door.

Standing upon the doorstep was none other than Professor Dumbledore, who raised a hand in greeting and said, "Good evening, Hagrid."

Another man followed him inside—

Ron inhaled sharply and hissed, "That's Dad's boss! Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic!"

Harry elbowed Ron in the ribs hard.

"Bad business, Hagrid. Very bad business," said Cornelius Fudge, who looked pale and sweaty. It certainly seemed the attacks had affected even the Ministry of Magic, "Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns—things've gone far enough. The Ministry's got to act."

"I never," protested Hagrid. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir!"

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said Professor Dumbledore.

The Minister shot the Headmaster a thin, forced smile. "Look, Albus. Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something—the school governors have been in touch—"

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest."

"Look at it from my point of view," responded Fudge. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty—"

"Take me?" asked Hagrid, who had begun to sweat. "Take me where?"

The Minister pretended not to hear his words, instead continuing his statement with, "For a short stretch only… not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology."

"Not Azkaban?" gasped Hagrid.

I stifled a gasp—Harry looked at me in alarm and placed a hand on my arm to silence me.

Luckily, there had been another knock at the door to cover the sound. Dumbledore answered it—now Ron had to shut Harry up as he gasped.

It was Lucius Malfoy.

"Already here, Fudge," observed Mr. Malfoy coolly. "Good, good."

"What're you doin' here?" asked Hagrid. His fear had been forgotten; now, there was only a righteous anger around his being as he glared towards Malfoy. "Get outta my house!"

Mr. Malfoy smirked and shook his head. "My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your—er—d'you call this a house? I simply called the school and was told that the Headmaster was here."

Professor Dumbledore didn't seem surprised by this admission. "And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?"

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," answered Mr. Malfoy, though he spoke with a gleam in his eye that wasn't fooling anyone at all: he was pleased. "The governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension—you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

Dead silence encompassed the seven of us in the little hut. It was a damned miracle that no one had walked towards the fireplace, in front of which Harry, Ron, and I were hiding in plain sight.

It was Cornelius Fudge who spoke first, and with a rapid shake of his head that betrayed some degree of fear. "Now, see here, Lucius… Dumbledore suspended? No, no—that's the last thing we want just now."

"The appointment or suspension of the Headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Lucius Malfoy, sleek as you please. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks—"

I wanted to yell, to shout that without Dumbledore, the attacks would be worse; but of course I couldn't. If we were to be caught here and now, all suspicion would be back upon Harry again, Hermione petrified or not. At the very least, we'd face limitless detentions, if not expulsion.

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them… I mean to say, who can?" rebutted Fudge.

Lucius Malfoy grimaced, but it was incredibly fake. The corners of his lips were almost curling up into a smile. "That remains to be seen. But as all twelve of us have decided…"

"An' how many did yeh have to threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" growled Hagrid.

Harry, Ron, and I exchanged worried looks.

"Dear, dear. You know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid. I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all…"

"You can' take Dumbledore!" Hagrid insisted. "Take him away, and the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Professor Dumbledore, his cool disposition redistributing order in the hut. He turned to look at Lucius, piercing blue eyes calm. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside… However! You will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He turned ever so slightly, and in that moment, it was unmistakable: Professor Dumbledore was looking at the three of us under the Invisibility Cloak.

"Admirable sentiments," said Lucius Malfoy grudgingly. "We shall all miss your highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any—ah—killin's."

With that, Malfoy bowed and stalked stiffly out the door. Cornelius Fudge followed soon after, though he sighed as he reached the exit and said, "Come now, Hagrid… I'm afraid it's time to go."

Hagrid took a deep breath and glanced down to the floor, as though he realized there was no way out of this. Perhaps a bit too loudly, he said, "If anyone wanted to find out some stuff, all they'd have to do would be to follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'… Oh, an' someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm away."

With that, Hagrid and the Minister exited the hut as well, leaving Dumbledore and us. Professor Dumbledore walked towards the door, but turned at the last moment. Harry, Ron and I all stared as he looked straight at us, gave us a nod, and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Once the coast was clear, Ron pulled off the cloak. We shared looks of horror: Hagrid was going to Azkaban, Dumbledore was suspended from the school… and there was no lead on who the Heir of Slytherin truly was, or what its monster could be.

Ron swallowed hard and croaked, "We're in trouble now. No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."

Fang started howling, pawing at the closed door. I stared at Ron and Harry for another second before grabbing some meat and placing it over the fire… Harry and Ron waited while the meat cooked a little, the firelight reflecting off of our haunted faces all the while.

"So…" I started to say, shooting a scattered look towards them, "when we see some spiders, it seems like we should follow them, huh?"

Neither Harry nor Ron responded; there was a stony look on Harry's face, and Ron had seemed terrified by just the word 'spider.' I'd known that Ron had never liked spiders much, but based on the horrified light that had overcome his eyes, it seemed to be more than a simple fear.

"Are you guys… all right?" I asked next, biting the inside of my lip.

Ron finally spoke again. "Yeah. Just thinking, I guess."

I grabbed a giant fork and began to turn the meat upon the spit. Fang was sitting by my side, drooling all the while, his eyes trained upon the steak in my utensil's grasp. "About?"

"How quickly everything's gone to pot," he answered, shaking his head. "This latest double-attack… what could have caused it? Everything has been quiet for the last four months, and now there's all of this! Why now?"

A small smile filled my face as I said, perhaps without thinking, "Good question, Ron. I bet Hermione would be pleased."

The mention of Hermione made shadows cascade around their faces again. I'd meant my statement in good faith; a positive note, one of praise; but it seemed that neither of them wanted to even think about what had happened to her just yet.

I sighed to myself and took the meat off of the fire. After placing it in Fang's bowl and noting how quickly he was scarfing it down, we donned the Invisibility Cloak yet again and set back off for the castle.


The weekend and following days passed. Spring was beginning to slide into summer, and with the passing of the seasons, our professors grew stricter.

In addition to being accompanied to classes, to the bathroom, and to our common rooms, the hospital wing was now completely off-limits. Madam Pomfrey had expressed concerns that whoever was attacking people would attempt to 'finish them off'—a few stone sentinels had been posted around the entrance to the room as extra security measures.

On top of an already difficult situation, ever since Hermione had been petrified, there was a tension between Harry, Ron, and I that was quite disconcerting. The two of them would always stick together, but for some reason, it was like I had become an outlier… they wouldn't invite me to dinner, didn't wait for me in the Gryffindor common room to be escorted to breakfast. Their faces were pale, there were dark circles under their eyes—and each time I asked them if anything was wrong, they would shake their heads and say nothing.

One morning before Potions, Draco Malfoy plopped down in the seat next to me, looked me over, and exclaimed, "You look terrible."

I sighed and shot him a sardonic look. "Thanks, Draco. Appreciate that."

"Sorry," he said, and the mildly abashed look to his face showed me that he meant it. "Everything going all right with you? I mean, I know after what happened to Granger…"

"Things could be better," I replied, interrupting him a little. In truth, things weren't going well at all. I was starting to get rather lonely, seeing as Harry and Ron were almost avoiding me in some cases. The only person I'd been able to speak to in the previous number of days was Ginny, who seemed more reminiscent to a sad ghost than the happy girl I'd gotten to know over the summer.

"Erm… is there anything you need?" he asked next.

I blinked and looked towards him with a slight smile. There was nothing that he could do to help my predicaments, but… the sentiment meant a lot. "I'm afraid not, but thanks for asking."

Draco nodded once and began unpacking his supplies to prepare for our class.

From Potions with the Slytherins to Herbology with the Hufflepuffs we went, Professor Snape escorting us through the hallways. When we arrived at the greenhouses, class was timid and subdued. There were two students missing now, and the empty places at the worktables only served to remind us of the constant danger.

The first sign of life in the greenhouse came from Ernie MacMillan, who approached Harry with his head held high. "I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and… well."

He stuck out a hand to shake Harry's; the gesture was duly reciprocated.

Ernie smiled somewhat at the successful peace offering and then turned to me. "Perhaps I should've listened to you from the start, Belle. You've been certain of Harry the whole time, haven't you?"

"Of course I have," I answered, shooting him a small smile. "He's my best friend."

"Oi, now!" exclaimed Ron, but I knew he was just joking around based on the way that he nudged me with his shoulder.

While this little interaction made me feel better about what was going on with Ron, there was still a stoicness to Harry's face that I didn't know how to place…

Halfway through class, however, Harry tapped my arm. I blinked and looked over to where he was pointing—a single-file line of spiders were trailing out of the greenhouse, in the direction of the Forbidden Forest…

The three of us exchanged short nods, for we hadn't forgotten Hagrid's warning. And it seemed like the next part of our plan had just revealed itself.

As Professor Sprout guided us towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry leaned close to us and murmured, "We'll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again. We can take Fang with us—he's used to going into the forest with Hagrid, he might be of some help."

"Right," Ron said, though he swallowed hard. "Aren't there… werewolves… in the forest?"

Harry and I exchanged brief looks. Ron hadn't been with us last year while we suffered our detention, meaning this would be his first experience in the forest.

"There are good things in there too," Harry said, obviously trying to salvage the situation. "The centaurs are all right, and the unicorns…"

Our brief spurt of luck did not persist into Defense Against the Dark Arts. The moment we stepped inside, Lockhart practically bounced out of his office, wearing robes of an unflattering sea-foam green. It was a very odd contrast to see his happy grin, considering the rest of our professors were grim and unsmiling.

"Come now, why all these long faces?" exclaimed Lockhart, who was incessantly beaming. "Don't you people realize the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away—"

"Says who?" Dean argued.

"My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Hagrid if he hadn't been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty."

Ron frowned and exclaimed, "Oh, yes he would."

Lockhart shot us one of his trademark grins and condescendingly clucked his tongue., "I flatter myself I know a touch more about Hagrid's arrest than you do, Mr. Weasley."

It looked like Ron wanted to argue—perhaps even say that we were there—but Harry kicked him in the shin under the table and hissed, "We weren't there, remember?"

All throughout the lesson, Lockhart was musing how he knew Hagrid was guilty from the start, that our gamekeeper was no good whatsoever—I wrote Harry a note and passed it to him and Ron at the next table that read, Can I please bash one of his three dozen paintings over his swelled head?

Harry bit his fist to keep from bursting into a laughing fit, which only made me have to bite my own lip. It was nice to make him laugh again.

As Lockhart kept preaching about his many apparent accomplishments, however, I found myself bothered. I was thinking about Hermione; I missed her. I had completed a painting recently that was dedicated to her… it had been covered in blue and purple hues, traditionally cool colors that were normally associated with calm sadness. I wished I could see her in the hospital wing.

Much as I wanted to imagine that she was there, the seat beside me was empty… and I was still lonely. It was like the four of us were a fragile chain link: take one out of the equation, and it's not quite the same as before.

My thoughts returned to the last moment I'd seen her, before she'd been attacked. Hermione had said that she'd understood something, and then rushed off in the direction of the library without telling us what it was running through her mind…

"What did you put together, Hermione?" I muttered to myself under my breath, my quill tapping on blank parchment. "What had you discovered?"

There was no way I'd be able to jot down class notes like I was expected to do; instead, I began scribbling down every piece of information about the Chamber of Secrets that we knew. Firstly, Tom Riddle caught the wrong man fifty years ago. Next, a girl had died the last time the Chamber had been opened. Third, Draco wasn't the Heir, and neither was Lizzie. Lastly, Harry had been hearing a voice prefacing each attack—

My eyes lingered on this final note. It was only Harry who could hear it, only Harry. What could Harry hear that no one else could?

I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once—long story—but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to, it was before I knew I was a wizard…

A short gasp escaped my lips, drawing the attention of my two friends over at the next table. After meeting Harry's eyes, I ripped a piece of paper out of my notebook and frantically began to write: Harry, it's a snake. The monster has to be some variation of a snake. It's Slytherin's symbol—that's why only you can hear it and no one else. I need to find out more. I need to go to the library. Tonight.

Harry took my note from underneath his table, read it, and showed it to Ron. Both of them nodded towards me, and then Harry began to scribble on the back of my note. When he passed it back to me, it read, Are you sure? Ron and I are probably going to need the cloak since we're leaving the grounds. We can go with you tomorrow if it helps.

When Lockhart had his back turned, I looked over at Harry and shook my head. Seeing his raised eyebrow, I murmured, "It has to be tonight. Trust me."

My friends exchanged quick looks, but they eventually nodded and gave me a resolute nod. While they would brave the Forbidden Forest, it looked like I had my own task for the night.


The common room was finally empty at midnight, exempting myself, Harry, and Ron. While they ran upstairs to grab the Invisibility Cloak, I gathered everything I needed… which were my wand, my wits, and my courage.

When my friends returned downstairs, it was with cloak in hand. As Harry swept it around his and Ron's shoulders, he said, "Be careful, Belle. Last thing I want to hear is that you've been caught out of bed and expelled."

I laughed somewhat and cocked my head sideways. "It's you two who should be careful. Don't let your guards down, and if you feel like you need to retreat, then do so."

And so it was that the three of us wasted no more time in exiting the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was asleep, and so she didn't realize that we were sneaking out… and from there on, we split ways. I made sure to keep my wand in my right hand and used my left to guide myself along the hallways and the railings of the staircases. I didn't want to use the Lumos charm to light my way, lest a patrolling professor notice it and approach.

There were a couple close calls—the Bloody Baron was floating around outside the Charms corridor, but most fortunately, he was facing away from me, which made it easy to sneak past him. One of the professors I didn't yet know was heading in the direction of library, meaning I had to be extra careful and quiet during the moments where I had no choice except to follow. And then there was Filch, who was humming sadly. I had never known the caretaker to hum, but he actually had quite a lovely voice. It sounded as though he was heading in the opposite direction, meaning the library would be open to me as soon as he was gone.

When finally I was inside, I took a look at Madam Pince's catalogue, searching specifically for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander. If there was a monster I needed to discover, this book would be the one to tell me what I wanted to know.

Based on her catalogue, there was a copy available in the eastern section of the library, while the other two were rented out. Now feeling comfortable enough to light my wand, I whispered, "Lumos." This tiny bit of light was all I needed; I looked amongst the shelves, my eyes narrowed… and after a few minutes or so of searching, I finally found it.

The book had an awesome illustration of a red dragon on its cover, though there wasn't time to admire the artwork for long. I flipped to the index, looking for a table of contents that could possibly direct me to more reptilian magical creatures. Most of them listed in the book I didn't immediately recognize: huffalumps, nifflers, bowtruckles, grindylows…

My eyes fell across one entry: basilisk.

This basilisk was located on page 209—I rifled through the pages, my eyes frantically following the numbers: 205, 207, 211—

I blinked and flipped the page back. It was page 207, covering erumpets. The page that appeared after I turned it was page 211, covering unicorns.

The page with the basilisk was missing.

"No…" I murmured, slowly coming to realize that my search was going to be for nothing at all. "No, no!"

I put the book carefully back in its exact place and ran back to Madam Pince's log, trying to see who else had checked out Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. They were in possession of a Slytherin sixth-year who I'd never run into in my life, and Angelina Johnson.

A small sigh of relief escaped me. So long as I was able to borrow that book from her first thing in the morning, we might have some answers.

There was still one question lingering in my head that I couldn't help shaking off, though: why would the page with the basilisk be missing?

There were two possibilities: one, that Hermione had come to the same conclusion as I had the day she'd been petrified and tried to grab the information on the basilisk for us… or two, that the Heir of Slytherin had taken extra precautions.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I could discover which one it was, at the least; if Angelina's book also had a page torn out, then I would know it was the Heir of Slytherin covering his tracks. Hermione wouldn't have needed to tear out all the pages of each book—she would've only needed one.

Knowing that this was all I could do for tonight, I double-checked to see everything had been put back in the right place, because Madam Pince had eyes like a hawk. As I left the library, a calm sense of foreboding appeared in my chest. If my hunch was right, what I was about to discover would put a lot of sense to the madness.