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Chapter Eight
The Heir of Slytherin?
It was common knowledge that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. But just as common was the knowledge that Hagrid would never wish to intentionally kill anyone.
Harry half-wished he hadn't found out how to work Riddle's diary. Again and again Ron, Faykan and Hermione made him recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and of the long, circular conversations that followed. Faykan had been surprised at first when Harry told him about Riddle's encounter with his grandfather, but said little about it.
"Riddle might have got the wrong person," said Hermione. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people..."
"He defiantly got the wrong person," Faykan corrected her, not looking up from his book.
"How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?" Ron asked dully.
"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Harry miserably.
"And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have gotten his award."
Ron tried a different tack.
"Riddle does sound like Percy, who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?"
"But the monster had killed someone, Ron," said Hermione.
"And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts," said Faykan, continuing to read.
"I don't blame him for wanting to stay here..." Harry said softly. Faykan was the only one to hear, and he gave Harry a knowing smile.
In the end, they decided that they wouldn't say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whispers from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to bring up the subject with the gamekeeper. 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. Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, creating a sort of uneasy truce between the two, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy, as it meant they were close to maturity.
The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.
"It could affect our whole future," she told Harry and Ron as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks. Faykan just snorted at her.
Ron sighed gloomily. "We have to keep all our old subjects too, or I'd've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked.
"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," said Ron. "I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose."
Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Dean Thomas, who, like Harry, had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody's advice and signed up for everything.
Harry smiled grimly to himself at the thought of what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would say if he tried to discuss his career in wizardry with them. Not that he didn't get any guidance in the subject, as Percy Weasley was more than eager to share his experience.
"Depends where you want to go, Harry," he said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the nonmagical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them; look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry."
But the only thing Harry felt he was really good at was Quidditch. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if he was lousy at them, at least he'd have someone friendly to help him. Faykan rolled his eyes at the choices and picked the same as Harry and Ron, saying that they would be boring if he was in any of them without his two best friends.
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better—or at least drier—and the evening before Saturday's match he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling that Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better.
But his cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, he met a frantic-looking Neville.
"Harry, I don't know who did it, I just found…"
Watching Harry fearfully, Neville pushed open the door. The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.
Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of 'Travels with Trolls'. As he and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Faykan, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly.
"What happened, Harry?"
"No idea," said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out.
"Someone's been looking for something," said Ron. "Is there anything missing?"
Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk, while Faykan repaired everything that had been damaged. It was only as Harry threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.
"Riddle's diary's gone," he said in an undertone to Ron and Faykan.
"What?"
Harry jerked his head toward the dormitory door and his best friends followed him out. They hurried down to the half-empty Gryffindor common room and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called 'Ancient Runes Made Easy'.
Hermione looked aghast at the news.
"But, only a Gryffindor could have stolen… nobody else knows our password…"
"Exactly," said Harry grimly.
They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.
"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs.
"Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."
Harry had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Riddle's diary was sitting right in front of his eyes. Faykan was just glad the book was gone. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, but Harry didn't like the idea. He'd have to tell a teacher all about the diary, and exactly how many people knew why Hagrid had been expelled fifty years ago? He didn't want to be the one who brought it all up again.
As the four Gryffindors left the Great Hall so Harry could go and collect his Quidditch things, another very serious worry was added to his growing list. He had just set foot on the marble staircase when he heard it yet again.
"Kill this time... let me rip... tear..."
He shouted aloud and Ron, Faykan and Hermione all jumped away from him in alarm.
"The voice!" said Harry, looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again… didn't you?"
Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.
"Harry… I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"
And she sprinted away, up the stairs, ignoring Faykan's call of warning, "Hermione! Don't! It's not safe!"
"What does she understand?" said Harry distractedly; still looking around, trying to figure out where the voice had come from.
"Loads more than I do," said Ron, shaking his head.
"But why's she got to go to the library?"
"Because that's what Hermione does," said Faykan, looking back the way she had run, his face contorted with worry. "When in doubt, go to the library."
Harry stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.
"You'd better get moving," said Ron. "It's nearly eleven… the match…"
Harry raced up to Gryffindor Tower, collected his Nimbus Two Thousand, and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but his mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet robes in the locker room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game. The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last minute discussion of tactics.
Harry was just mounting his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.
Harry's heart dropped like a stone.
"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.
"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play… the cup, Gryffindor…"
Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:
"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"
Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry over to her.
"Potter, I think you'd better come with me..."
Wondering how she could possibly suspect him this time, Harry saw Ron and Faykan detach themselves from the complaining crowd; they came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object.
"Yes, perhaps you'd better come too boys..."
Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. The three boys followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. But they weren't taken to anybody's office this time.
"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack... another double attack."
Harry's insides did a horrible somersault. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and he, Faykan and Ron entered.
Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth year girl with long, curly hair. And on the bed next to her was…
"Hermione!" Ron groaned.
"No…" Faykan said in a whisper, kneeling by her motionless form.
Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.
"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them...
She was holding up a small, circular mirror. Faykan looked at it, tears in his eyes, and then he turned back to Hermione and rested his head on her arm, whispering "I warned her, I warned her not to go…"
Harry and Ron shook their heads as Professor McGonagall turned to them with the mirror. "I will escort you three back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She had just read from a scroll saying that all students would be supervised at all times, between classes and in the evenings, and that Quidditch was completely suspended as well as all other evening activities. She rolled up the parchment and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."
She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately. But Harry was only half listening. He didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Hermione, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, he was looking at a lifetime back with the Dursleys. Tom Riddle had turned Hagrid in because he was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school closed. Harry now knew exactly how he had felt.
"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly in Harry's ear. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"
"We've got to go and talk to him," said Harry, making up his mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."
"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class…"
"I think," said Faykan, quietly, "it's time to get your dad's old cloak out again."
Harry admitted that Faykan was right. The cloak was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Hagrid without anyone knowing about it. They went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean, and Seamus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again, and threw the cloak over themselves. Faykan didn't trust using his animagus form this time, and the three of the crowded under the cloak.
The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open. The night was clear and the stars shone brightly over their heads. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house and only pulled off the cloak when they were right outside his front door.
The door flung open wildly seconds after they had knocked. They found themselves face-to-face with Hagrid aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.
"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you three doin' here?"
"What's that for?" said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.
"Nothin'… nothin'…" Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin'—doesn' matter, Sit down… I'll make tea…"
He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand. Faykan repaired it with a wave of his hand.
"Are you okay, Hagrid?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"
"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice. He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them all large mugs of boiling water—teabags had been forgotten—and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door.
Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry and Ron exchanged panic-stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Faykan shifted into his Animagus form and settled into Hagrid's large chair. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, blinked once at confusion at Faykan the fox, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.
"Good evening, Hagrid."
It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man. Faykan's ears perked as the man entered.
The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime green bowler hat.
"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"
Harry elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up.
Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into his chair, almost sitting on Faykan, who jumped to the table to escape, and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.
"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggleborns. Things've gone far enough. The Ministry's got to act." Faykan growled lowly at the minister, who only glanced slightly at the fox before turning back to Hagrid.
"I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir…"
"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.
"Look, Albus," said Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. The 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," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire Harry only seen once before, in Faykan.
"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting nervously with his bowler. "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…" Faykan snarled louder at Fudge, baring his teeth. It drew the attention of everyone in the room, but only Dumbledore's eyes lingered on the black fox for more than a few moments.
"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was now trembling. "Take me where?"
"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology…"
"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.
Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.
Dumbledore answered it. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out a very audible gasp.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl and Faykan let out a high, sharp bark-like noise.
"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good..."
"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"
"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your… you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."
"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.
"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but 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 Muggleborns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."
Both Fudge and Hagrid started to argue that Dumbledore needed to stay at Hogwarts, but Mr. Malfoy wouldn't be swayed. Dumbledore finally had to calm Hagrid, "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside," he said.
And with that, Mr. Malfoy turned, and Dumbledore left after looking directly where Harry and Ron were hidden, as if he could see them. Fudge looked to Hagrid, waiting for him to leave next. Hagrid patted Faykan on the head once absently, and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have to do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'." Hagrid left with Fudge on his heels. When the door closed Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off himself and Ron as Faykan changed back into his human form.
"We're in trouble now," Ron said hoarsely. "Without Dumbledore, they might as well close the school now. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."
"I'm going to have a nice long chat with Draco about his father," Harry said, frowning at the closed front door.
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