Note: Hi y'all - I'm finally back. I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the love and support I received while I was away, and just how much y'all loved my fic. I am planning to update both this fic and For His Juliet twice a month on alternating weeks, but before you read this chapter I have a couple of notes.
I know that you guys want Hermione and Draco together. I get it. But this is a slow burn. I know some of you want to see Hermione not get with Cedric - but this is necessary to my plot. There will be lots and lots of Dramione interactions, and pining on both sides between now and when Dramione truly begins, but for now, that's all I'm able to give you, in order to keep compliant with my plot. I hope you guys do like Cedric, he'll be sticking around for a bit, and (spoilers) even after when they break up, they will still be friends. With all that said, here's the next chapter.
Hogwarts had become incredibly tense ever since the two new Petrifications. The halls were devoid of laughter, the classrooms lacked any chatter, and the students were absent of the usual life that was so commonly found at Hogwarts. Quite simply, Hogwarts felt bereft of magic.
Dumbledore had been sacked, which would've caused quite the amount of excitement in Slytherin if it weren't for the gloomy circumstances surrounding his departure.
Still, despite the enormous change in the castle, the professors tried their best to make everything seem like it was a normal year. Even if it meant the continuation of exams.
"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," Professor McGonagall had said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard. Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible, and that, I hardly need to point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."
At least she wasn't like Lockhart, who acted as if any trepidation the students were feeling was irrelevant. "The Heir has been caught!" he'd say in class, "Cheer up. No need to worry!"
Most of the professors did not share Lockhart's sentiments. In what Hermione suspected to be a last ditch effort of some kind, there was a surprise search in all of the Hogwarts dormitories by the Professors. It had left a mess and they hadn't found anything, other than a few pranking items Flich was more than happy to confiscate.
Hermione was one of the few that was happy the exams were still happening. At least studying gave her something to dive into and lose herself in during such calamitous times. Every time that she would start worrying about Slytherin's Monster, or the black book, or anything at all, she'd grab the nearest textbook and read until her brain was too fried to think.
Life continued on as such until three days before the first exam. That morning at breakfast, everybody was talking in the hushed whispers that seemed to be commonplace, the students afraid to draw attention to themselves, lest the Heir take notice.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I have some good news."
For the first time in what felt like ages, the Great Hall was filled with loud talking, people shouting out their guesses one after another.
"Dumbledore's back!"
"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!"
"Quidditch matches are back on!"
Once all of the noise subsided, Professor McGonagall continued on, the ghost of a smile on her face. "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 all around. Soon, Hogwarts would be safe.
As the second year Slytherins walked to History of Magic, for the first time in a while, they chattered on excitedly.
"Oh this is going to be so wonderful," Hermione exclaimed, "I can't believe that everyone is finally going to be able to wake up. I hope that the Petrified students get exempt from exams." She gasped in horror, "What if they got held back a year? I mean Colin Creevey has been Petrified since November. And it's not like any of them have Magical parents who could teach them what they missed."
"Of course you would be worried about their academics," Draco laughed. "I'm just excited that everything will finally go back to normal, and just in time for next year. We're finally going to get to go to Hogsmeade on weekends."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "We've all already been to Hogsmeade more times than I can count. It's not that interesting, not compared to Diagon Alley or anything."
"I think it's more exciting because we'll be able to go on our own, with no supervision or anything like that. Plus we won't have to rely on our parents sending us candy - we can just get it ourselves," Theo grinned.
"And we can go on dates," Daphne added, as Theo went a bit pink in the cheeks.
"I do feel bad though," Blaise said, "Ginny won't be able to go with us, since she'll be a second year."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, as they walked into Binns's classroom, "You know what I just realised? 'Stori is going to be here next year!"
"Could you imagine what she'd be like in Lockhart's class?" Daphne asked, "She'd out-drama-queen him in two seconds flat. It almost makes me sorry that the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors curse is probably going to get him one way or another. But not really."
"Well it didn't get Quirrell until the end of last year," Pansy said, "And he died, didn't he? Do you think that it's too much to ask for a repeat?"
"Pansy!" Hermione admonished.
"Fine," Pansy amended, "I hope he's brutally maimed, but still alive. Is that good enough for you and your sanctimonious standards?"
As Binns droned on about who-knows-what, the class was filled with other students' conversations, just as excited as the Slytherins.
And, for those next few hours, it felt like Hogwarts was Hogwarts again. Students shot jinxes at each other in the hallways, and snogged in dark alcoves, and passed notes during classes. The Weasley twins even set off fireworks during lunch in the Great Hall, and to Filch's dismay, none of the Professors gave the two detention, and a smile even slid onto Professor Flitwick's face at the display of the brilliant charmwork.
But the celebrations came to a screeching halt a few hours later when Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the hallways. Hermione's head wrenched up at the strained tone in her voice, and unknowingly, she grabbed Draco's hand, holding on tightly.
"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please."
"Something's wrong," Draco mumbled.
The group nodded in agreement, and even Pansy had nothing to say.
When the second year Slytherins got back into the dungeons, they saw Ginny pale, trembling, and sitting on a couch, her hands shaking without reprieve, surrounded by a litany of other, older Slytherin students. From the ones that had played chess with her, to the fifth year Prefects, to the entire Slytherin Quidditch Team seemed to be surrounding the redheaded girl, trying to comfort her. Marcus Flint had his arm slung around Ginny's tiny shoulders, and was shooting dark looks at Graham Montague, who was sulking in the far corner of the common room.
"Ginny!" Hermione cried out, rushing towards the younger girl. Marcus stood up, and went aside, so that Hermione could take his place next to Ginny. "What's wrong?"
"It-it's Percy," Ginny managed to get out. "I-He was passed out and he was sitting under the first message for the Chamber of Secrets and it said th-that his skeleton would lie in the Chamber forever." With that, Ginny burst into tears, and Hermione hugged her tightly.
"Oh Ginny," she murmured. "I'm so sorry."
"We-we've never been the closest, but he's my brother," Ginny sobbed. "And now he-he's going to be dead."
With that, there was a great, frantic pounding upon the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and everyone went dead silent. Wary glances were exchanged, and not a single person moved. Was this some kind of a trap? Was it the Monster, coming to kill them all? Was it the Heir, wanting to demand their support?
Slowly, carefully, Thomas and Carrine got up off of the loveseat that they had been sharing. They approached the door, their wands firmly grasped in their hands. The two aligned themselves against the wall, to where the door would swing open, ready to shoot a spell at a moment's notice. Reaching out, Carrine opened the door, just the smallest crack.
"Who is it?" she barked, her voice unusually combative.
"It's just us," a voice called out, and Carrine peered through the crack, before the fear in her face dissipated. Fred and George Weasley came tumbling through the door, falling on top of each other.
A collective sigh of relief was breathed through the common room, and Ginny looked up, with a watery smile.
"We couldn't remember the password," George explained apologetically.
"But you lot are paranoid, aren't you?" Fred frowned, then shrugged. "Can't blame you much, really." They both looked up, scanning the crowd, before their eyes fell on Ginny, and the two rushed over. Hermione quickly moved out of the way, allowing the twins to envelop Ginny in a hug.
Hermione moved back over to the rest of her friends. "I feel so bad," she whispered, "I don't know what to do." She sat down in a defeated slump. "What are any of us supposed to say to her?"
Blaise was glaring at the floor. "None of this should be happening! It-it's not… nobody deserves this. Any of this."
A few moments later, Fred left George and Ginny, to go over to Carrine, Thomas, and Marcus Flint, all of whom were standing in a circle, hushed whispers flying from each of their lips. Marcus was constantly looking up, over to Graham Montague who was sulking in the corner, sending the other Slytherin dark glares.
"What's going on?" Fred asked, with forced joviality. "Flint, why are you looking at Montague like he killed your cat?"
"I-" Marcus began, before he was cut off by Thomas.
"Marcus, we do not need to add any more fuel onto this fire."
"Fred deserves to know," Carrine said softly, putting her hand on Thomas's tense shoulder.
Thomas let out a sigh, "Sure. Fine." He threw his hands up. "For the record, when one of them ends up in the infirmary, it's not my fault."
"So?" Fred asked, his arms crossed.
"Ginny was the first to stumble upon Percy," Marcus said, gruffly. "Which, I'm sure she's told you by now. When she came in here to tell everybody, Montague decided to announce that - and I quote - 'It was good that there would be one less Muggle-Loving Weasley in Hogwarts,' and that he 'Hopes it takes the rest of them, too'."
Everything that happened afterwards was a blur to Fred. All that he clearly remembered was pushing past the older Slytherins, and running towards Montague, and lunging at the burly Slytherin. The fight was all fists, and feet and teeth, but no wands. The blows that Montague landed didn't matter to Fred - all that did was making the bastard pay.
A few moments later, Fred felt himself being pulled back by Marcus, who forcibly sat Fred down onto a chair.
"Why'd you stop me?" Fred asked angrily, ready to run at Marcus. Did he not care about Ginny?
Marcus's eyes flashed. "Because he deserves worse." Fred blinked. Marcus's eyes shifted, darting around the room. "Weasley, how'd you feel about a partnership? You can bring your twin along, I don't care. All that matters is that I'm going to make Montague's life a living hell. Are you in or out?"
"Explain what you've got so far. Now."
A grim smile flashed across Marcus's face, but before he could start to explain his plan, Snape came into the common room.
"Miss Weasley -" he began, before his eyes fell on George, and after a few moments of searching, on Fred as well. "And Misters Weasley, I assume you already know what happened to your brother, Percy?" The three nodded. "While I'm sure Professor McGonagall is not going to be thrilled that the two of you are in here when you are supposed to be in the Gryffindor common room, I suppose she will be relieved to learn that you two have been located. As for your brother, Ronald, I assume he isn't in here as well?"
"No," George said, a hint of worry in his voice. "Is he not in Gryffindor Tower?"
"Unfortunately not, and Potter is missing as well, so I would assume that your younger brother is with him," Professor Snape drawled. "I have no idea how they've not managed to get themselves killed thus far. However, I am not their Head of House, and therefore it is not my responsibility… Merlin only knows how Minerva manages to deal with it," he said, pinching his nose. "Misters and Miss Weasley, I need you to come with me to Headmaster Dumbledore's office."
Fred gave Marcus a meaningful look. "We'll be talking further about this," he promised, before walking over to the couch where Ginny was wedged between Emmeline and George.
Emmeline offered Fred a sad, meaningful smile. "I hope-" she cut herself off, and sighed, "I hope everything works out, Fred. I'm so, so sorry."
"It'll be alright," Fred said, forcing a grin on his face. "I mean, the monster's probably going to get so annoyed with Percy's prattling that it'll beg us to take him back." Something lodged in Fred's throat, and he coughed, trying to clear it.
Ginny, unsteady, got to her feet, and Fred suspected that George's arm around her was the only thing keeping his younger sister upright. The three followed Snape through the common room entryway, various spindling hallways, and up four flights of stairs, before they came to Dumbledore's office.
Snape muttered, "Jellybean," and the door swung open, Dumbledore's office coming into view.
Molly and Arthur Weasley were sitting in two chairs, huddled close to each other, across from a pensive Dumbledore, who was sitting in a tall chair on the other side of the desk. Professor Snape joined Professor McGonagall in the corner, both of their mouths in tight lines. At their entry, Molly's head snapped around, her eyes zeroing in on her three children. She rushed over to them, her arms sweeping up all three of them into a tight hug.
Ginny pulled back quickly, uncomfortable, and Fred honestly couldn't blame her. Ginny hadn't received a single letter from their parents the entire year, after the one sent on her first day of Hogwarts, in which they more or less disowned her for getting into Slytherin. After a few minutes of pleasantries, Ginny snapped.
"Why aren't you all worried?" she asked anxiously. "Percy's going to die! And what about Ron? Where is he? Why aren't we looking for him?"
"Ronald," Dumbledore said, "Is very likely with Harry Potter and Professor Lockhart, who are in the Chamber of Secrets as we speak, working on rescuing Percy."
"Aren't we going to send them any help?" Fred asked, his mind reeling.
"I already did," Dumbledore said simply, gesturing to an empty cage. "My phoenix, Fawkes, is there in case anything should go awry. After all, phoenix tears do have healing powers. I expect that they should all be back within a few hours."
Fred looked to Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape's eyes seemed darker than normal, his scowl more defined, and Professor McGonagall gripped her wand tightly, her lips thin.
Molly tutted, "Oh, Ginevra, it'll be alright, I promise. Headmaster Dumbledore, your Father and I have had a conversation and we all came to an agreement that after all of this Heir of Slytherin business that you can be resorted, properly this time."
"But-" Ginny began, before being promptly cut off by Dumbledore.
"I normally wouldn't allow for such a thing," he said, his eyes twinkling, "But given the circumstances surrounding your brother and the Chamber of Secrets business, I thought that your original Sorting might've been inaccurate."
"But," Ginny began, "I like it in Slytherin. Most of my friends are in Slytherin."
"Nonsense," Molly said, waving her hand. "No child of mine is a Slytherin."
"I think you made it clear that I wasn't your daughter anymore when you sent me that letter," Ginny said, her voice wavering. "I'm a Slytherin, Mum. What's wrong with that?"
"Oh, Ginevra," Molly said, simply, "You don't want to be in the House that hates muggleborns, do you? In the House that is actively trying to kill your brother?"
"They aren't though. Almost everyone's been so nice and welcoming, and the Malfoys even sponsored me. Narcissa even bought me a Nimbus 2001 because I mentioned that I liked Quidditch!"
"Oh, so you've replaced me with a Malfoy and money, then?" Molly asked, her voice icy.
"What else was I supposed to do?" Ginny asked, tears beginning to fall.
The silence that overtook the room was deafening, apart from Dumbledore's various gadgets whizzing, and Ginny's muted sobs.
"She seems to want to be in Slytherin, Molly," Professor McGonagall said finally. "And for what it's worth, she fits in very well. She seems to have a lot of friends in her house, and well, there's nothing all that wrong with being a Slytherin."
Molly began to sputter, "My daughter is a Gryffindor, Minerva, Albus, you both know that as well as I do! Weasleys are always Gryffindors!"
There was a great silence before Ginny spoke softly, "I'm in Slytherin, Mum, and I'm happy there. You've always wanted me to be you. You always planned my life. I don't want to be a housewife. I want to be a Professional Quidditch Player, but whenever I'd tell you that, you'd act like you couldn't hear me. The first time I told Narcissa I wanted to be a Professional Quidditch Player, she got me a broom. And I know that it's not like we could afford a Nimbus 2001, but at least she listened to me."
"Well, then, I suppose you can stay with Narcissa this summer if she's so much better than I am," Molly said, stiffly.
They continued to sit in silence, and Fred watched Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall exchange glances, and look back and forth between Ginny and Molly. Fred looked over at George helplessly. What were they supposed to do? Fred bit the inside of his cheek, coming to a decision. He would try and fix this during the summer. Mum and Dad would come around. They had to, didn't they?
After a few moments, the adults began a small, stilted conversation on Arthur's work in the Ministry, but all Fred could focus on was his sister. He pulled Ginny into a hug, rubbing circles onto her back.
A few hours passed, each one taking longer than the one before, and the tension could've been cut by a knife. As the door opened, Fred wasn't sure whether to be relieved that the silence was over, or upset that this might be the last time Ginny was in the same room with their parents.
McGonagall stood up abruptly as Harry, Ron, Percy and Professor Lockhart came into Dumbledore's office, each panting, looking rather pale. Percy especially was a rather sickly shade of green.
Molly flew over to the four, sweeping Harry up into her arms, squeezing the boy tightly. "You saved him! Harry, you saved him! How did you do it?"
"I think we'd all like to know that," said McGonagall weakly, her hands shaking ever-so-slightly. Snape, on the other hand, looked like he needed a stiff drink.
But Fred's attention wasn't on the two professors, or on his mother. Instead, it was on Harry Potter, who placed the Sorting Hat, a ruby encrusted sword, and the charred remains of a diary. The diary looked suspiciously similar and it took Fred a moment, but finally he was able to place it. That was Percy's diary - the one that he and George had been teasing him about all year. Then, the boy began to speak.
At first, it was quietly, with a rasp in his voice that made Fred strain to understand him. But once Fred was certain he was hearing Harry, he could scarcely believe the words coming out of his mouth. The younger boy began to tell a story of a disembodied voice, how after asking Professor Kettleburn about different kinds of magical snakes, Ron and Harry had figured out it was a basilisk hiding in the pipes. How the two followed spiders into the forest - and Fred noticed his younger brother grimacing at this part in particular - and how a large spider named Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died. How Harry had guessed Moaning Myrtle was the original victim and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets could be in her bathroom.
It was at that point McGonagall interrupted Harry. "Very well…so you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add-" Snape visibly grimaced - "But how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"
Harry continued his story into the Chamber of Secrets, telling them of Lockhart's betrayal - a fleeting thought occurred to Fred at that moment: the Slytherins would be rather amused by Lockhart's fate - and how Ron had been trapped behind with the mind-addled wizard. How he had fought the basilisk with Percy, dying on the ground, and a younger Voldemort somehow turning up, who had admitted to enchanting Percy. Harry then mentioned Fawke's timely arrival and the Sorting Hat giving him the sword - he gestured to the artefact on the desk. With a slightly louder voice, he assured everyone in the room that the younger Voldemort had died when the basilisk had.
But a nagging thought stayed in the front of Fred's mind. He and George were more than experienced in telling tall-tales, stretching the truth, and simply straight up lying. It was necessary to stay out of trouble. So - he was fairly certain in his belief that Harry Potter was holding something back.
"How -" Fred startled as the attention of the room turned to him. But he soldiered through. "How in Godric's name was You-Know-Who there? How did he get into Hogwarts? Isn't he…dead? How did he enchant Percy? Does that mean… What about the Slytherins? If…if there's another war, how do we keep them safe?"
Ron glared at his older brother. "As if they'd side with anybody but You-Know-Who."
Fred's temper flashed, but he reigned it in. Instead, he glared back at his younger brother, the anger palpable in the air between them.
It was Dumbledore who spoke next. "Mister Weasley raises an interesting point. It is, in fact, interesting that Lord Voldemort-" the room flinched "-managed to enchant Percy, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania?"
Fred's mind began to reel, and he exchanged a glance with George. Was he right in hearing that? You-Know-Who wasn't dead? Before his mind could continue to whirl on, his mother's sputtering brought him back into the room.
"You-Know-Who? Enchant Percy? But Percy's not…he hasn't been…has he?"
"It was the diary," Harry said quickly, picking up the charred book. Fred's eyes widened as it rapidly clicked into place - You-Know-Who's Diary - it must've been enchanted. So by Percy writing in it all year…
"Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen," Dumbledore said, taking the diary and peering at it. "Brilliant," he said softly - so softly that Fred wasn't sure if he had heard it. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen. 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. He travelled far and wide, sinking so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorting with the very worst of our kind, undergoing so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."
"But Percy," his mother said, "What's Percy got to do with - with him?"
It was only then that Percy finally spoke. He had collapsed into a chair quite immediately after entering the room and had stayed uncharacteristically silent throughout. When he finally spoke, he too, was quiet. "It was his diary," he said. "I-I was writing in it, and he was writing back all year. About studying tricks, spells, ways to improve my chances at becoming Head Boy."
Fred watched as his father turned a certain shade of puce. "Percy! Haven't I taught you anything at all? 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-"
"I ran spells over it," Percy said, "I… I thought it was safe, I thought I was… I picked it up at Flourish and Blotts. It had fallen out of one of the Malfoy's baskets. I thought it might've been one of those special new academic planners on the market that helped you create study times and…" he trailed off, red-faced.
"Mister Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore ordered. "This has been a terrible ordeal for him. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than he have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He walked over to the door. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up. You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice — I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."
His parents and Percy shuffled out, his mother sending one last searching look at Ginny, as if she would turn around and suddenly be wearing a Gryffindor tie. But Ginny didn't turn around, and there was no Gryffindor tie to be found adorning her neck, and so Molly pursed her lips and left.
"Mister Weasley," Snape said, "George, that is, please escort your sister back to her common room. Fred, please wait outside of the office for me, for just a moment."
Confused, Fred nodded, and passed Ginny off to George, aiding the two down the stairs.
"What do you reckon he wants to talk to you about?" George asked.
"I don't know," Fred answered. What was likely only a few minutes dragged by into what seemed like hours, until Snape finally came billowing down the stairs.
"Mister Weasley, follow me," he said, rather brusquely. Fred was led through the winding corridors of Hogwarts and finally into Snape's office. "I want you to write down every single thing that you heard tonight in Dumbledore's office."
Fred looked up at the dour teacher, his brow furrowed. "Why?"
"Mister Weasley, it has been a long enough day for me already. Just do it."
And so Fred did - it took pages and pages of parchment, and he wrote until his wrists ached. When he finally finished he handed it to Snape.
"Thank you, Mister Weasley," the Professor said.
Fred looked up sharply in confusion. "Did I- did you just-"
"I will not repeat myself, Mister Weasley. Good night."
Fred watched as the Professor stepped through the fireplace, shouting "Malfoy Manor!" as he went.
On the other side of a faraway fireplace somewhere in England, the Potion Master stepped out, to a captive audience that waited for him in the sitting room. He shoved the note into the hand of Lucius Malfoy. The blond man's eyes scanned the paper, growing wider with each passing word. Finally, he set it down on the table. Hyperion picked it up after him, curious.
Lucius was unable to speak.
"What is it?" Narcissa asked. "What did-"
"Horcruxes," Lucius said, his voice shaking. "That's how the Dark Lord survived. He made Horcruxes. Who knows how many…may Magic help us."