Chapter Eighteen: A Bad Riddle for Hermione

Dumbledore sat silently as he absorbed what was told to him. He finally nodded. "I see. Professor McGonagall, take Miss Weasley to the hospital wing. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been fooled by Voldemort. Bed rest and a large mug of hot chocolate…I suspect Madam Pomphrey is still awake, administering Mandrake draught to the Petrified. On your way back, alert the kitchens. This calls for a feast-"

"FOOD!" Gohan yelled enthusiastically. Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. Vegeta grunted his approval.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Also, summon the teachers. They will want to put the Grand Hall back in order for the celebration. Inform the students…I'm sure they will want to know that Cell is no more…once again."

Everyone had left the room, except Harry, Ron, Gohan, Vegeta, Piccolo, Lockhart, and Dumbledore. Dumbledore rounded on Harry and Ron.

"I believe I told you that if you broke any more school rules, I'd have no choice but to expel you?"

Gohan flinched for his friends' benefit. Harry frowned, and Ron's mouth fell open in horror.

"I suppose it goes to show that even the best of us must sometimes eat our words. You will each receive Special Rewards for Services to the School and two hundred points each for Gryffindor.

"But someone is being incredibly silent concerning his part in this adventure. Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

Lockhart looked around at everyone before noticing that everyone was staring at him. "What…are you talking to me?" Vegeta snorted.

"Professor," Ron began. "He had an accident in the Chamber. Professor Lockhart-"

"I am a professor? Goodness-"

"He tried to do a memory charm, and it backfired."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "Impaled by you own sword, Gilderoy?"

Lockhart blinked stupidly. "Sword? I don't have a sword. That boy does, though. You can borrow his."

Gohan laughed earnestly. Harry and Ron grinned.

Dumbledore leaned toward Ron. "Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart to the hospital wing? I'd like to have a word with Harry and Mr. Son."

Ron led Lockhart out.

Dumbledore motioned to the chairs by the fire."Have a seat." Harry and Gohan sat across from the headmaster. Vegeta and Piccolo stood behind them.

Gohan watched the fire crackle. His eyelids drooped as he listened to Harry and Dumbledore; he was exhausted.

"-Gohan?"

"Huh? What?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I think Mr. Son wants a bed. I asked if you had anything to add."

"Oh. Well, I was wondering. I heard you say why Harry is a parselmouth. Why am I one?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Your mentor tells me that you have a gift with animals. I believe that your parseltongue is related to your talent to empathize with other creatures. Nothing more. Anything else?"

"Yeah. I don't like keeping secrets."

Dumbledore smiled, nodding. "I'll try to keep that in mind. Anything else?"

Piccolo nodded. "I have one. Gohan's wand."

Gohan blinked. "Huh?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Piccolo, I see you've recognized its uniqueness."

Gohan pulled out his wand. As soon as his fingertips touched it, a familiar feeling of comfort, safety, and contentment flooded him.

Vegeta gasped, staring. "Kakarot?"

Gohan jumped, looking around. "You see Daddy? Where?" He saw Vegeta staring at his wand. Disappointed, Gohan sank into his chair, slowly stroking the intricate carvings. But then, he sat upright. Staring at his wand, he recognized it for the first time.

"It…it has Father's ki!" Gohan exclaimed, as tears began forming in his eyes.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Your wand is very unique, Mr. Son. It contains a bit of your own father's essence. In a way, your wand is so aligned with you that it seems to do your bidding even from a distance. A normal wand would have never worked for Ronald the way yours did…all because you asked it to. I am curious as to what other personality quirks your wand possesses. Do you have anything else?"

Both boys shook their heads.

"Very well. You must be off to the feast. Piccolo, Prince Vegeta, you are equally welcome to stay and enjoy the banquet. I have to get busy-" Dumbledore began chatting to himself. Gohan and Harry made it to the door when it swung violently open.

Mr. Malfoy entered, slightly untidy, and approached Dumbledore. A small creature fussed about his feet, attempting to shine his shoes. Piccolo frowned, and Vegeta scowled.

Harry nudged Gohan. "Dobby," he whispered. Gohan looked at the elf with interest.

"So, you're back? The governors saw fit to suspend you, but you returned anyways?"

Dumbledore smiled serenely. "Well, you see, Lucius, the other eleven governors contacted me, shortly after they heard of the attack on Ginny Weasley. Curiously, they were under the impression that you would curse their families if they failed to accommodate you."

Malfoy seethed. "So..have you stopped the attacks? Has the culprit been identified?"

"We have."

"And? Who was it?"

"The same person as last time. Only this time, Voldemort chose to act through another. By means of this diary."

While Dumbledore and Malfoy stared at one another, Dobby began acting very strange. So strange, in fact, that even Piccolo noticed. He pointed at the diary, at Malfoy, then immediately hit himself on the head.

"I see," Malfoy said slowly.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ingenious. Had Harry, Gohan, and Ron not discovered this book, Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever had been able to prove that she hadn't acted of her own free will."

Malfoy's face suddenly became emotionless.

"Hmmm…" Piccolo said quietly as Dumbledore continued. After all, Kami had been an expert when it came to mind reading.

Dobby continued his bizarre behavior. Suddenly understanding, Harry nodded to Dobby in acknowledgement and whispered to Gohan. Dobby retreated and began abusing himself in earnest. Piccolo had noted the scene and heard the exchange between the boys.

Harry stepped forward. "Don't you want to know how Ginny got the diary, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy sneered. "How should I know how the stupid girl got it?"

"Because you gave it to her. You slipped to her that day in Flourish and Blotts."

"Prove it."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No one will be able to do that, now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, Lucius, it wouldn't be advisable to leave any of Voldemort's other school things lying about. I'm quite certain that Arthur Weasley will personally see to it that any such item will be attracted to you."

Lucius Malfoy glared at him. He made a slight movement beneath his robes, but turned away. "We're leaving, Dobby."

He yanked the door open, and kicked Dobby through it. Even Piccolo flinched painfully from it. As they turned the corner, Vegeta smirked.

"I really hate that guy."

Piccolo scoffed.

"What, Namek?"

"Aren't you just as bad?"

"What? I'd never dirty my boots to kick such a whiny, sniveling, pathetic bug-eyed booger, Green Bean!"

Harry approached Dumbledore with a glint in his eyes. "Can I have that?" he asked, nodding at the book.

"Certainly, Harry." Giving Gohan a knowing look, he took off downstairs. Gohan followed.

Piccolo cleared his throat, and left soon after.

"Going to watch the show, Piccolo?" Dumbledore said at his retreating back. Piccolo chuckled.

Vegeta smirked. "I'm not gonna miss this. Who knows, it may possess some entertainment merit." He descended the steps.

...

"Harry, why did you take off your sock?"

"Shhh! Mr. Malfoy! I have something of yours." Harry thrust the smelly sock at him. Malfoy yanked the sock from the book and threw it aside.

He held Harry's gaze with a look of utter loathing. "Your parents were meddlesome fools, too! Be careful, You may meet the same sticky end. Come, Dobby…Dobby!"

But Dobby didn't move. He held up Harry's disgusting sock like it was a rare, beautiful jewel. "Master has given Dobby a sock. Master gave it to Dobby!"

"What?"

"Got a sock," Dobby said excitedly. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it. Dobby is free!"

Malfoy glared at Harry. "You lost me my servant!" He lunged at him.

Dobby glared. "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

Bang! Malfoy was thrown five meters. He stood quickly, angrily.

Vegeta cackled. "What do you know? Beaten by a bug-eyed booger." His continued laughter resounded through the corridor.

Severely outnumbered, Malfoy seethingly hurried out of sight.

"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" Dobby sang giddily.

Harry grinned. "Just promise me…never try to save my life again."

The elf smiled.

Piccolo approached Gohan. "Gohan."

"Yes, Piccolo?"

"You choose friends well."

Gohan smiled. Vegeta shuddered mockingly. "Ewww. I'll be at the feast, after I've finished puking my guts out." He sauntered haughtily down the steps.

They watched a happy Dobby as he hugged Harry around the middle and disappeared with a pop.

As soon as she awoke from her Petrified state, she sat up. Ignoring the loud protests from the school nurse, she raced up the stairs in a panic. She needed answers, and only knew of one place in which to find them. The library was deserted. She immediately turned the corner, finding herself standing before a usually locked door, above which a sign hung, reading:

Restricted:

No students under year three permitted without a signed note from a professor.

Holding her breath, she took hold of the handle, and remarkably, the door swung open. She raced to the carding system. Within a minute, she had found the book she wanted. She ran to the bookcase containing it. She felt a haunting shudder as she saw it, like it was calling her. Tentatively, she reached out for it. She found the page she needed, but she hesitated. Do I want to know?

Taking a silver knife from its sheath, she made a small incision below her pinkie finger. Blood collected within the tiny wound and cascaded slowly, finally dripping a tiny drop on the page. The book absorbed the red spot and a list of words in the form of names slowly faded into existence. Her worst fears became confirmed as the first three names appeared. She bit her lip as she studied them. As other names appeared, her face began filling with growing horror. The last line of names emerged. No! This can't be!

She shrieked in horrified anguish as the gravity of the knowledge overwhelmed her. She ripped the page from the book and slammed it closed, choking back a sob. She felt betrayed, misled by the ones she thought loved her. She couldn't take it; she couldn't stay here. She rushed from the library, bowling into a black clad figure with long, dark, greasy hair and a hook nose.

"What are you doing out of the hospital wing, and why are you crying, silly girl?"

She didn't want to talk; she didn't want to listen. She bolted away, ignoring his protests, and ran down the stairs, stumbling and falling half way down, landing at the feet of a startled, pale-faced boy with hair almost too light to be considered blond. She got to her feet and met his gaze, a flash of recognition crossed his arrogant features and he opened his mouth with a sneer.

But before he could say anything, she shrieked, "IT'S A LIE! ALL OF IT!" before opening the castle door and disappearing behind them. She blindly rushed toward the trees, oblivious to the unnatural wind that was tearing at her clothes. Tripping on a tree root, she clutched at the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. She punched, she kicked, she screamed violently as she attempted to purge herself from the evil her eyes had seen. After half an hour of fighting herself, her exhausted limbs collapsed to the forest floor.

"It's not fair!" her muffled voice complained to the tall silhouette that she knew had been watching her for at least ten minutes. "Why? Why did it have to be me?"

"You're not the only one with a troubled past," he said calmly. "Perhaps it is better that you didn't have to grow up with it."

She stood up angrily, her knees wobbling. She finally had a target to shout at, and she was going to shout at him. Glaring at him, she yelled, "What would you know about it?"

The impressively tall form approached her, forcing her to have to look up at him. "Heh. I am the incarnation of a psychotic, sadistic sociopath with plans for world domination. What don't I know about it? Now stop that…you're draining all of your energy."

For a moment, she blinked stupidly, but she recovered quickly. "I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, THE SCHOOL, THE WORLD! I HATE EVERYTHING! I-"she collapsed into him, completely spent.

Sighing, he lifted her into his arms and strode toward the school. Deciding not to draw stares from the crowded entrance, he flew up to a window, breaking it open with a kick. He flew into the hospital room with her limp body. He gently laid her on the nearest bed.

The school nurse stared at the scene in horrified bewilderment, but the black-clad professor with a hook nose and sallow skin approached. Looking the green man in the eyes, he said, "What's going on?"

The Namek observed the man in front of him before responding. "It would not be wise to discuss it in front of her. Clearly, she has received some news that is quite distressing. She has to come to terms with it herself before she can talk about it."

The professor shot a calculating look at him.

The Namek glared at him sternly. "If I find out that you have been badgering her about it, I'll return…and it won't be to talk."

As he left through the same window he came, the professor sighed in agitation. Walking over to the foot of her bed, he watched her for five minutes before he left.

...

An hour later, she rose.

"What are you doing out of bed, young lady?"

She sighed. "I'm going to the feast."

"You are not well enough. After you taking off like that, you're not stable enough to be-"

"I'm going!"

Madam Pomfrey glared, but the girl was far from intimidated.

"What are you going to do, expel me? Huh! I don't care anymore." She stalked out of the room.

Knock.

"Enter," Dumbledore's voice said. "Ah, Poppy. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Sorry to bother you, headmaster." She closed the door behind her.

"Not at all, Poppy. What can I do for you?"

"I am concerned about one of the students-"

"Ah, would her name happen to be Miss Hermione Granger?"

Madam Pomfrey jumped. "Why, yes…how did you know?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Granger is heading toward difficult times. She is discovering things about herself that she never knew. It's likely that she currently feels betrayed and lost from the new information. Let her be, for now. But while you are here, I require your expertise on a matter. What do you know about the pandoran charm?"

She flinched. "Headmaster, you do realize that the pandoran charm is a forbidden art?"

"Yes, Poppy. I am well aware. But let's say I have a hypothetical patient that has all indications of having a Pandora Box embedded within."

"Well, St. Mungo's-"

"Hypothetically, if sending the patient to St. Mungo's was out of the question?"

Pomfrey frowned. "It depends on what was contained within the Box itself. If the patient had a small amount of something within the box, for example, it wouldn't be problematic to open the box. But if the patient had significant quantities of things within the box, the result of opening it could be disastrous."

"What kind of things can be in the box?"

"Well, Albus, as you know, the Pandora is used for many things. It is used to hide things from the seeker, and sometimes from the one being sought. Pandora can hold memories, various abilities or powers…if powerful enough it could hold an entire person.

"One of the interesting properties of the Pandora is that the charm is self-sacrificing."

"Meaning?"

"That if a mortal threat is perceived by the patient, the box would offer limited protection to the patient."

"Like if the patient looked a basilisk directly in the eyes…"

"The pandora would act as a filtered shield, saving the person from instant death. But what I know of the Pandora protection, I'm not so sure the person would be completely protected. Perhaps they would just be Petrified. Also, the Pandora is capable of taking damage from such an intrusion, so hopefully the hypothetical patient's Pandora has never been tested in that way. The consequences could be severe."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Is there any way to find out who cast the pandoran charm years after its occurrence?"

"There are only two I can think of. The first one, Priori Incantantum, you are aware of. If that is no longer feasible, considering the spell's limitations, the second is by finding evidence through memory extractions from either the guilty party or the witnesses. Of course, there could be suspicious residue within the victim."

"What kind of residue?"

"Well, since pandorean charm performing is a dying art, many who attempt it are inexperienced. As a result, the Pandora is often failed, flawed, or the caster simply failed to modify the victim's memory to cause them to forget the casting event, believing that the Pandora actually took care of that detail. If such is the case, then you maybe able to find residue of such an event."

Dumbledore sighed. "And if I can't?"

"Then I'd suggest Legilimency. Search the victim's memories and thoughts for something out of place, like a suspicious recurring appearance of someone that's out of place in the memory or the victim repeatedly arriving accidently to the same location for no motive or reason at all. Induced dream sleep while performing Legilimancy might provide some clues as well."

He nodded. "Very well. Thank you for your input."

"Your welcome, Headmaster. But what of Miss Granger?"

Dumbledore stared out his study window. What indeed? He sighed heavily. "Let her be, Poppy. It will sort out eventually."