So, not a lot of activity in the review department going on here, but I guess that's ok, its bound to happen occasionally, despite best hopes. Regardless, the next chapter, I really need to get back into editing on ahead, things have been difficult with all else that i'm up to these days, and college on top of it all. anyway, cheers! ~F

Chapter Six

Mysteries Deepen

Harry and Faykan stepped off the stone staircase behind Professor McGonagall, and waited apprehensively as she rapped her knuckles upon the wooden door. It opened silently, and the trio entered the office. Professor McGonagall told the two to wait and left them alone, presumably in search of Professor Dumbledore.

Harry decided to take a look around, and wandered off, leaving Faykan standing alone in the middle of the room. It was quite large, beautiful, but above all, entrancing. Quirky and decidedly strange noises came from every direction. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and occasionally emitting little puffs of smoke. Every inch of the wall was covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. In the center of it all was an enormous claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby tattered wizard's hat: the Sorting Hat.

Harry was just wondering if he should put the Sorting Hat on again and ask if he had been placed in the correct house, when a strange, gagging noise drew his attention to a golden perch behind the door. Faykan was standing next to the perch, and sitting on it was something that looked like a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it, and the bird glared back balefully, making the gagging noise again. It looked quite ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

"Is it alright?" he asked Faykan as he joined him to look at the bird. It would be all he needed if Dumbledore's pet bird died while they were alone in his office.

"It will be," Faykan said, just as the bird burst into flames. Harry yelled in shock and stepped back, but Faykan remained where he was as the bird turned into a fireball, gave a loud shriek, and disappeared into a smoldering pile of ashes in a tray beneath the perch.

"Harry, relax. It's a phoenix," Faykan said as he bent toward the pile of ashes. "When they die, they burst into flames and are reborn from the ashes." He dusted a light layer of the ashes aside, revealing a tiny newborn bird, which crooned slightly as it raised its head to look at Faykan.

"It's a shame you had to see Fawkes on a Burning Day," said a voice behind the two boys, who turned to see Dumbledore in the process of seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, such wonderful red and gold plumage. Rather fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have remarkable healing powers, and they make highly faithful companions."

Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand as he urgently ranted about how he had spoken to Harry and Faykan minutes before Justin was found and that it couldn't have been either of them who attacked the boy. Dumbledore could not get a word in edgewise.

"Hagrid!" Dumbledore finally half shouted, "I do not believe that either of these boys attacked anyone."

"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right, I'll wait outside then, Headmaster."

And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Harry repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed stray rooster feathers off his desk.

"No, Harry, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you both."

"I must ask you, boys, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently, "anything at all."

Harry had no idea what to say. Thoughts of Nott, the Polyjuice potion and the voice that he had heard twice this term swirled in his head. Looking at Faykan, Harry saw that his friend was looking pointedly away from Dumbledore and finally Harry shook his head. "No, there isn't anything Professor…" he said.

"Very well Harry, you may go." Harry and Faykan turned to leave, but Dumbledore called Faykan back. "Mister Undol, if I may have a few more private words with you." Harry watched the door swing closed in his face, blocking his view of Faykan and Dumbledore.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

When the door to his office had closed, Albus regarded the boy standing before him, determinedly avoiding meeting the Professor's gaze. Young Mr. Undol was a small, thin boy, smaller then even Harry, and very much akin to the build both his father and grandfather had at his age. His black hair was kept shoulder-length, and the young man held himself with a supreme sense of confidence. This troubled Albus. 'How can one who appears so young seem so mature and wise,' he mused inwardly, rallying his thoughts and questions.

There were indeed a great deal of questions that he wished to poise to this young boy, but while there were many things that were equally pressing, none of them mattered as much as what the boy was planning. Albus was keenly aware that the wards he placed on the Dursley's residence would have blocked all witches and wizards from finding Harry, who didn't know of the location already, as told my Albus, Hagrid or Minerva, who were all present shortly before Albus' letter had activated the wards. The fact that a young wizard boy, no matter the heritage or potential magical strength, flat out ignored these sorts of wards, which were the best protection that one could hope for short of a full Fidelius Charm, and found Harry regardless of Albus' designs, were alarming in the most extreme fashion.

"Faykan," Albus finally began after a few moments of silence, and the boy cleared his throat in a way of acknowledgement. "I wanted to ask you a few questions regarding your relationship with Harry." The boy raised one eyebrow, mildly surprised at this development.

Pressing on quickly, Albus continued, "I've heard from Arabella Figg that you arrived at her home five summers ago and immediately befriended Harry Potter, remaining close by him ever since." Albus knew a lot more than that from Mrs. Figg.

She had reported of Faykan showing up on her doorstep out of the blue, with some story of the abrupt death of his parents, and of him requesting to stay with her for a short time. He had sought out Harry Potter and spent the next three years constantly by his side. The boy had evidently even taken young Harry to Diagon Alley for his first year supplies.

"Yes, that's true, Headmaster." Faykan replied continuing to look anywhere, at the portraits, at the Sorting Hat, at the golden perch by the door… anywhere besides Albus' eyes.

"What I'd like to know is how you found out where Harry lived, and your intentions with him." Albus asked, staring straight into the boy's face and trying to peer into his mind, to see the truth behind those crystal blue eyes.

Faykan faced Albus at last, looking somewhat incensed at being questioned about his friends. "I have no idea what you mean Professor. I found Harry by happy chance. I remain by him because he completes me, gives me purpose." Albus gazed into the boy's mind, trying to find the true answers he sought.

What he found was most unexpected. Mist surrounded the boy's thoughts, hiding them from the great wizard's view, Occlumency to be sure, but on a scale greater than anything that the Headmaster had ever encountered before. Albus could do no more than blindly grab at stray memories and ideas, which naturally gave him little to work with.

Faykan's mind was well organized and defended; catching the boy off guard to read his mind would prove very difficult. But Albus was prepared. He pushed a false memory into the mind, a memory of suffering, of pain. It worked perfectly, drawing enough of Faykan's attention for Albus to siphon off a single memory undetected, and retreating. Twin voices rang in his mind, one deep and powerfully resonating, the other high and piercing. "The sleeper must be awakened, or the world is lost…"

Albus eyed Faykan, who, slightly shaken, was glaring angrily at the Headmaster. "Was that really necessary, Professor?" he asked, before storming out of the office, slamming the door behind him. Albus merely smiled, his mind trying to work out the information that he had gleaned from the boy's mind.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned the general mood of nervousness and unease into full-blown panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. 'What could possibly do that to a ghost?' people asked each other, as well as, 'What terrible power could harm someone who was already dead?'

There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas. Ron commented that he, Harry, Faykan, Hermione, Draco, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle would be the only ones left at the castle at the rate people were vacating. Harry was rather glad that most people were leaving the castle; he was tired of everyone muttering about him when he passed them in the corridors.

At last the term ended, and Harry found the silence rather peaceful. He rather enjoyed that he, along with Faykan, Hermione and the Weasleys, had full run of Gryffindor Tower, meaning that they could play loud games of Exploding Snap or practice dueling in private.

Christmas morning dawned cold and white. Harry, Faykan and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed with a pile of presents in her arms.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

"Hermione, you're not supposed to be in here…" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion... It's ready."

Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak. She nibbled Harry's ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation too.

The rest of Harry's Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating. Ron had given him a book called 'Flying with the Cannons', filled with interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team.

Hermione had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill and Faykan had given a small crystal phial filled with a translucent liquid that gave off a pale light from somewhere deep within. Glancing at his friend in amusement and delight, Harry watched as Faykan unwrapped what looked like a dagger, silvery white with runes written on the blade.

Faykan's eyes widened as he looked at it and he ran a hand lovingly down the side of the blade. Harry finally opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Weasley's car and the bout of rule-breaking that he, Faykan and Ron were planning next.

The Great Hall looked magnificent that evening at dinner. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed.

Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read 'Pinhead', kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Harry didn't even care that Nott was making loud, snide remarks about his and Faykan's new sweaters from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Nott would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours' time.

Harry had barely finished his third helping of pudding when Hermione ushered him and Ron out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening. In the entrance hall they found Draco and Faykan waiting for them.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Nott's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."

Hermione continued on that she had already prepared two chocolate cakes with a simple sleeping draft for Harry and Ron to give to Crabbe and Goyle, and that they were to take some of their hairs after they were fast asleep, then lock them in a broom cupboard.

"Whose hair are you two pulling out then?" Ron said, slightly irritably.

Faykan jerked his thumb at Draco while Hermione stated that she had hair that she had gotten off of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. With that, Faykan, Draco and Hermione left to check the potion and wait for Harry and Ron to acquire their hairs.

"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?" Ron said to Harry in an undertone as they turned back to the Great Hall.

Surprisingly, their first part of the plan went better than Harry or Ron could have expected. The two Gryffindors waited outside the Great Hall, and when their target Slytherins had arrived, Harry expertly levitated the two cakes in plain sight. Crabbe and Goyle noticed the cakes immediately, devoured them both greedily, and keeled backwards onto the floor, out cold.

After they had stuffed the two large Slytherins into a closet, Harry and Ron bolted to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with their hairs, as well as Crabbe and Goyle's shoes, figuring that their feet would grow too large for their own footwear. Faykan and Draco were waiting just inside the door for them, and thick black smoke was pouring from the stall in which Hermione was stirring the cauldron.

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly when she spotted them. When they showed her the hairs, she smiled. "Good. And I snuck these spare robes out of the laundry," Hermione said, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle," Hermione said, when Ron had raised his eyebrows quizzically at the sack of robes. Then, as she divided the potion into four tumblers, she explained that the once they drank the potion, they would have exactly one hour before it wore off.

A yelp of pain came from behind them, and Harry turned to see Draco rubbing at a spot on his head while glaring scathingly at Faykan, who was grinning and holding several strands of Draco's silver-blond hair in his hand.

Hermione handed them each a tumbler and they separated to add their hairs to the potion and drink it in separate stalls. Harry dropped Goyle's hair into his glass, and it frothed disgustingly, turning the khaki color of a booger.

"Ready?" he called.

"Ready," came Faykan's, Ron's and Hermione's voices.

"One… two… three…"

Pinching his nose, Harry drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage. Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he'd just swallowed live snakes. Doubled up, he wondered fleetingly whether he was going to be sick, then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes. Next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax. His hands began to grow before his eyes: the fingers thickened, the nails broadened, the knuckles were bulging like bolts. His shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down toward his eyebrows. His robes ripped as his chest expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops, and his feet were agony in shoes four sizes too small.

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Harry lay face down on the stone cold floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the toilet at the end of the row. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Goyle. His large hands trembling, he pulled off his old robes, which were hanging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones, and laced up Goyle's boat-like shoes.

He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only the short growth of wiry bristles, low on his forehead. Then he realized that his glasses were clouding his eyes because Goyle obviously didn't need them; he took them off and called, "Are you all okay?" Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from his mouth.

"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right. Harry unlocked his door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at him out of dull, deep-set eyes. Harry scratched his ear. So did Goyle. Ron's door opened. They stared at each other. Ron was almost indistinguishable from Crabbe, save for the fact that he looked pale and shocked, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms.

"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. "Unbelievable."

"I'll say," Draco said as he watched a perfect copy of himself exit the stall nearest the door. Faykan grinned at the looks he was given as he commented, "You know Draco, for a Slytherin, you don't taste so bad in Polyjuice." The real Draco started to instruct his doppelganger on the location and password to the Slytherin common room while Harry and Ron called for Hermione to hurry up.

A high pitched voice answered them. "I… I don't think I'm going to come after all. You three go on without me."

"Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you…" Ron started, but Hermione interrupted him.

"No, really, I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time." She replied, sounding somewhat concerned.

"I'll stay with her while you go do your little investigation," Draco offered, and Harry and Ron followed Faykan as he led them out of the bathroom and down to the dungeons. They had a short run in with Percy, which Faykan handled with ease, perfectly mimicking Draco's disdain for the pompous Gryffindor prefect. Harry was only slightly surprised by Faykan's calm exterior as they continued navigating the dungeons. 'He must have spent most of first year exploring the castle so he wouldn't get lost' Harry mused as Faykan stopped by a stretch of bare, damp wall. "Pureblood," Faykan spoke in Draco's voice, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open, granting them entrance.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high backed chairs, Nott among them.

"There you are," he drawled, looking at Harry and Ron. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you. I want to show you something really funny, even you might have a laugh, Malfoy."

Grabbing a newspaper next to him, Nott shoved it under Faykan's nose. Faykan scanned it quickly, gave a slight snort of disbelief, and passed it to Ron and Harry. The headline read:

'INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.

"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.'

"Well?" said Nott impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Harry bleakly.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Nott scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave."

Ron's, or rather, Crabbe's, face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Nott, not missing the expression.

"Stomachache," Ron grunted.

Nott suggested that Ron go to the hospital wing, and while he was there to give the muggleborns a good kick from him. He continued to rant about how the attacks were probably being covered up by Dumbledore and that a decent headmaster wouldn't let in people like Colin Creevey. Harry took a moment to watch Faykan's reactions to Nott's behavior. Oddly enough, Faykan looked completely comfortable sitting in the darkness of the dungeons, so different from the unease that Harry could see in Ron's eyes, or feel in himself.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," continued Nott slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!"

"Surely though," Faykan drawled in Draco's voice, while Harry and Ron waited with bated breath; the subject had been breached at last, "you have some idea who is behind these attacks Nott?"

"I wish I knew who it is," said Nott petulantly. "I could help them." He leaned forward to the other three boys, lowering his voice, "However, I do have a suspicion. I think it might be that Undol boy who's practically is attached to Potter at the hip. He seems very shady to me, some of those spells he used at the dueling club were way beyond second year. He's definitely hiding something. And I'm willing to place money on that he's either the heir of Slytherin, or he's got something up his sleeve regarding Potter far deeper than anyone else has noticed." Harry stole another glance at Faykan, idly searching for some amount of truth or denial about what was said, but Draco's face had remained completely unchanged by Nott's suspicions, seemingly frozen in a mask of icy indifference.

Nott continued, completely unaware of the furtive looks passing between his three listeners, "But my father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. It was fifty years ago, so it was during his time, and he knows a lot about it, but all he says that it was kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But he did tell me one thing. The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them is killed this time... I hope its Granger," he said with relish.

Faykan caught Harry's eye again, and he tapped his watch casually, letting them know it was about time for them to leave. They all stood abruptly, "Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted at Nott's puzzled look, and without further ado, they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping that Nott wouldn't follow.

By the time they reached Myrtle's bathroom, they had all changed back to their normal selves. "Well, it was a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "Not completely," Harry reminded him as he turned to Draco, who was standing in front of a central stall. "Where's Hermione, Draco? We have loads to tell you both."

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked from inside the stall.

The three Gryffindor boys looked at Draco in bewilderment.

"What's the matter?" said Ron. "She must be back to normal by now, we are…"

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry had never seen her looking so happy. "Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said cheerfully. "It's awful…"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged around Draco, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Ron uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink in shock. Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair. She explained between sobs that the Polyjuice potion was only for human transformations, and she must have accidentally pulled a cat hair off Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Myrtle continued to laugh happily at Hermione's misfortune, and it took the four boys nearly an hour more to persuade her to go up to the hospital wing.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

By the time term restarted, Hermione was still in the hospital wing. Many people thought she was attacked, and groups of students constantly showed up to try and get a look at her, until Madam Pomfrey finally set curtains around her bed to give her some privacy. Harry, Ron, and Faykan visited her every morning, bringing the previous day's homework with them.

The three boys were just leaving her to head back to Gryffindor Tower to get their own work started, when they heard an angry outburst from the floor above them. "That sounds like Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and poked their heads around the corner to see what the commotion was about.

Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post, although he was nowhere in sight now. They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could clearly hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Now what's up with her?" Faykan commented dryly, clearly not wanting to investigate.

"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles he and Ron stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its 'OUT OF ORDER' sign, ignored it as always, and entered, Faykan trudging behind them, muttering about melodramatic ghosts.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me...

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Ron, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"But who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know... I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out..."

Harry, Faykan and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Faykan stepped over and bent to pick it up, but withdrew his fingers right before touching it, as if electrocuted. Harry stepped forward to pick it up instead, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Harry.

"Are you crazy?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised," Faykan said softly.

The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," Harry said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor.

Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name 'T. M. Riddle'in smudged ink. Faykan narrowed his eyes on reading the name, and then turned away in thought.

"Hang on," said Ron suddenly, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name... T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement.

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

Harry carefully peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even anything like 'Auntie Mabel's birthday,' or 'dentist, half-past three.'

"He never wrote in it," said Harry, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away…" said Ron curiously. Harry shrugged and pocketed the book. Faykan said nothing, having gone very quiet at the sound of the name.

Potential Spoilers Ahead: you have been warned!

Yay, another expanded Albus section at last! I know, it seemed that I had been in a slump of not changing anything drastically for a while, but we've found yet another one that needed work, especially with the slightly different direction that I have been going with the esteemed Headmaster and his investigation of dear Faykan Undol. encouragement would be most desired at this point, as I have indeed neglectd editing these chapters for a while, in favor of other things and schoolwork, and I do dearly wish to get to book three soon, where I know there will be a great deal to add and change which will make everyone quite pleased. Many thanks my lovely readers! ~F