"Did you know what my father said?" asked Theo, annoyed and looking more edgy than usual. "Stay out of the way, that's what he said. Let the heir finish his work, he said." Theo threw up his arms in a show of exasperation. "I get prejudice but letting other people die? It's barbaric!"
"Letting the heir finish his work, aside, my father told me likewise," said Draco. "To stay out of it."
"As you should," Harry interjected. He was met by two pairs of eyes looking oddly at him. He didn't like odd looks. "We should stay out of it, don't you agree? I've told Theo before that students shouldn't be the one being all problematic that some monster is intent on eradicating the students."
At the even odder looks that his friends were giving him, Harry concluded by saying "Of course, that doesn't exactly mean that we won't, do we?"
"Harry!" Harry and his two friends turned to see Lars catching up with them. "Have to tell you something...uhm in private?" Theo and Draco shared a look with each other before walking away. And by walking away, Theo had to literally drag the other pureblood away.
Lars waved a hand around them to prevent the other students from hearing them. Lars was getting a hang of casting a silencing charm wandlessly these days, not to mention nonverbally. And Harry was very impressed by that. He didn't even have to teach his brother how to do such a thing.
"I think I found out who the last descendant of Bartimaeus is." Lars then relayed the story about a diary he found in the bathroom after following the voice again a week ago. Harry reprimanded his brother for following the voice. Of all the mindless things to do.
The diary was named 'T.M. Riddle.'.
"How very unfortunate." Harry remarked after Lars told him of that little experience of seeing Tom Riddle accuse, and successfully catch Hagrid as the Heir of Slytherin.
"Hagrid has been framed half a century ago by none other than our cousin."
"Oh...dear cousin..." Lars said with a grimace.
"Very distant of course," he placated, not very fond of the idea of being related to a teenage murderer as well. "Where's the diary now?"
"It's under my bed, come on." Lars turned to run, only to literally bump into Neville the moment he turned. Lars then cancelled the charm with a snap of his fingers.
"What's the rush Neville?" Lars asked whilst rubbing his arm.
"Trunk...dormitory...mess..." Neville, gasping for air.
"Breathe, Neville."
"We don't know who did it, but you better come...come on..." They ran all the way to the Gryffindor tower, bumping into a few students in the process. Harry ignored the stares he received from the others upon entering the lion's den. They went up to the dormitory, only to see that it was a mess like a hurricane visited the room. Clearly someone had looked through each and every corner of the dormitory.
Harry watched as his brother knelt down by a bed and looked under it. When Lars stood up again, he looked frantic as he declared that the diary was gone.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but halted when he noticed some Gryffindors, younger years, standing by the door, staring at them.
Harry crossed his arms irritably. "Well?" he demanded with a scowl. The younger students looked at each other before making themselves scarce.
"What do we do now?" Harry turned his attention back to his downcast looking twin who'd seated himself on the ground. "That diary could've solved everything."
"Come on." Harry ordered his brother. Lars followed him without hesitance out of the Gryffindor tower and to an empty hallway nearby.
Harry waved his hand twice to make sure that privacy charms were in place around them.
"We need to find that diary." he said to Lars, who refused to dispense with the downtrodden look.
"I don't know how!" exclaimed Lars. "We can't search for everyone's things."
Harry raised an eyebrow smugly and called out his house-elf's name. As soon as Porthos appeared, he skipped the pleasantries and immediately gave out an order.
"I want you to search the bags of everyone in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory, look for a black diary with the name 'T.M. Riddle' at the back." Porthos nodded then popped away.
"How can –Porthos can read can't he?"
"Yes,"
"Are you going to tell it to Dumbledore?" Lars asked, looking a bit weary at the prospect.
Harry shook his head slightly. "No," he said to his brother, "judging from what you've discovered, I think the Headmaster knows of it." He wouldn't tell the old man what they were doing, not on his damned life. Firstly, he knew it would immediately reach Midas and the man would either kill him or ground him until his death. Secondly, the Headmaster already knew that he was a parselmouth and even warned him not to go investigating about, he didn't need the old man getting a confirmation from him that they were still investigating. And thirdly, he wanted to find the chamber without any of the adults, especially that senile, old man interfering.
"Despite being expelled," he continued, "Hagrid managed to stay here. Obviously, it's because of Professor Dumbledore that Hagrid is still here and as for the monster, we both know that it is a snake and it's highly likely that it is a basilisk." He paused, tapping his fingers against one another before continuing again.
"However, we're still missing a variable."
"What variable?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You tell me." he urged his brother to think. "What does a basilisk's stare do its victims?"
"It…uhm…kills them?"
"Go on."
"And apart from the one from fifty years ago, no one has died, only petrified, ergo, it's also likely that it's not a basilisk and that the evidence that we got are only staged by the perpetrator to lure us."
"Quite right," he said, slightly applauding his brother. "It's also quite possible that, whilst it's not a basilisk, it is still a reptile and cousin of snakes hence why we can hear the voice."
"Right and -" Lars abruptly halted and blinked a few times. To think, he wouldn't catch on that little slip.
"We?" questioned Lars. "WE? You mean you've heard the voice? When? Why didn't you tell me? You could've at least reassured me I wasn't going mad!"
"One can only make so much of a reassurance, Lawrence," Harry said drily. "I've heard it around the same time you were called to the Headmaster's office. As to why I didn't tell you, I suppose it just slipped my mind."
"It just slipped your mind?" Lars said in obvious disbelief. "Why don't I buy that?"
Harry smirked. "I'm flattered," he said. "You obviously think I remember everything."
"Wouldn't put it past you," muttered Lars. "You tend to remember even the smallest of details."
Harry talked about the findings of his about the chamber with Theo.
As for the events fifty years ago, Theo's guess was as good as his. Hagrid was framed, and Tom Riddle was the heir of Slytherin residing in Hogwarts fifty years ago. Draco was more accepting now of the possibilities that every magical family had half-bloods for relatives when they told him about Tom Riddle. Harry didn't know for sure if Draco only agreed because of their presence. He could still hear some whispers regarding degrading people who weren't pureblood, with Draco included in the list of wrongdoers.
The search for the diary proved to be inconclusive. Porthos didn't find anyone with a diary with the name 'T.M. Riddle' on it. They were back to square one just because the bloody diary got stolen. Without the diary, they won't be able to find more information that they needed about Tom Riddle. It was the only way that they can communicate with Riddle.
In the trophy room, they found out that Riddle's whole name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. Riddle was a model student, top of his year from his first year until he graduated, prefect during his fifth and sixth year, and Headboy during his seventh year. It wasn't a surprise that the school believed Tom Riddle when he framed Hagrid half a century ago. Hagrid was virtually nothing against the most brilliant student of his generation.
Harry's guess was that the diary was created sometime during either Riddle's fifth or sixth year since, from what Lars had told him, Riddle was still wearing a prefect's badge, in the memory, and not the Headboy badge.
"Lawrence, I think it's time that we use roosters," Harry said, opening up the discussion once more despite not being actually sure that it was a basilisk. They had known for sure that it was a snake but the kind was what they weren't sure of. The bets were on the basilisk since they thought that Salazar Slytherin wouldn't have settled on anything but the best snakes of all.
"Harry," Lars said with a slight whine that thoroughly grated on his nerves, "you said that you wouldn't."
"You made me promise not to, Lawrence," he pointed out crisply, having a half a mind as to taunt his brother again with regards to someone dying but thought better of it.
It wasn't like he was going to convince his incorrigible brother anytime soon, that and they nearly brawled with one another during one of his taunting. A brawl was prevented due to their respective friends but Harry's eyeglasses did sport some crack afterwards from Lars' magic. He was not afraid of his brother. He can fend for himself well enough but he wasn't too keen on having a bruised face, or being sent to the hospital wing for that matter.
"Look," he began calmly, "I can't rest until the matter is solved, and as of the moment, that's the only way I know how to immediately kill it." Telling the adults was also one way but neither of them wanted to.
"We're not even exactly sure that Shamira's a basilisk," said Lars, again with the annoyingly whiny tone.
"That being said, then there would no harm in trying, hmm?" he retorted. "We have nothing to lose by trying."
"Please, just give it time," Lars pleaded. "What if you were Salazar Slytherin and Seraphim's following the commands of your evil descendant because he's compelled to, wouldn't you want that at least one of your good descendants give it a go and give Seraphim a chance?"
Harry already had the inkling that his brother would make such a comparison. However, he'd already decided what he'd do before the question was asked.
"Frankly, no for it is both stupid and reckless," he replied coldly. "Lawrence, I'll give to what you wish for now. But believe me when I say that in the end you might even regret that you refuse my plan."
"I don't think I would," Lars replied with voice filled with conviction. Funny, Harry thought. It was what Draco said when Harry had said that he might regret befriending him and Theo if his father would disown him.
"Hang on," Harry said trailing off when 'Draco' and 'house-elf' fused in his mind, "what's the name of that house-elf playing hero for you?"
"Dobby, his name's Dobby." Lars replied before frowning, "You forgot again, brother? It's rude forgetting names, you know, purposely forgetting them. I know that you purposely forgot it."
"Yes, yes I forgot for what must be the thousandth time," he said as he hurriedly fixed his things. In his defence, the only house-elf he'd never forget the name of was Porthos.
With saying naught a word, the twins gathered all their belongings and left the library, heading straight to Harry's room using the portrait of the knight.
Who else to ask than someone who owned plenty of house-elves for generations? He can't believe why he hadn't thought of asking Draco. Even Theo didn't bother suggesting to ask Draco.
"Theo," Harry said as he entered his room, "where's Draco?"
"In….his room….why?" Without answering, Harry exited his room and went to Draco's, Lars and Theo just behind.
"Draco, do you know a house-elf named Dobby?" he asked immediately as he caught sight of Draco after the door was opened. When Draco responded affirmatively, Harry literally dragged his friend to his room.
"Hey, watch the clothes," Draco said, sounding annoyed. "What's with the dragging and pulling and damaging my clothing?"
"Draco, is Dobby your house-elf?" Lars asked.
"Yes, he's a family house-elf." Draco answered, straightening his clothes. "Why?"
"Mate, didn't I tell you about that?" Theo asked. There was something dodgy about Theo when he asked Draco. Theo asked too quickly and as if defending himself already. Harry could think of nothing else except that Theo deliberately withheld information from Draco, though the blonde was none the wiser.
"No, you didn't," Draco denied. "I didn't even know that there's a house-elf involved. Look, can we start over? What has Dobby got to do with all this?"
Lars took the time to explain it to Draco whilst Harry was busy with a staring contest with Theo. Theo eventually shrugged.
"Just how do you think we can do that?" Draco questioned with a raised eyebrow when Lars suggested that they get some answers from the house-elf.
"Dobby is bound to father, not to me. I can't summon him here like Harry does with Porthos. If I ask for father to give me permission to let Dobby come here, there'll be too many questions, none of which I think I can answer without him suspecting something's amidst." Draco smiled humourlessly. "And we all know he will interfere one way or another."
"Allow me to say," Draco turned to Harry with a scrutinising look, "that I find it a bit odd that you didn't ask your house-elf about Dobby at an earlier time, most house-elf knows each other."
"Most, not all." Harry rebutted, turning his gaze away from Theo. "Porthos is not from around here in case you haven't noticed."
"He isn't?" Draco and Lars chorused. Harry frowned. Theo truly was the only one who really could notice things.
"No, he isn't," he replied with an exasperated sigh. "Surely you didn't expect that I can acquire one on my own. Porthos is from the Orient."
"He's an Umbra then, that explains how he speaks," Theo stated. "Shadow, the shadow of their masters."
"House-elves are called differently in other places?"
"Yes they are...now we're getting off topic again." Harry spoke with a bit of frustration. "Is Macnair, or at least Macnair's father a frequent visitor in your manor?"
Draco sneered. "Unfortunately, he is," his blonde friend was obviously not pleased with such visits.
"Well, there's our answer as to where Dobby possibly heard this 'plot to make terrible things happen'," Theo concluded. "Best case scenario is that you two find the chamber, stop the attacks, and hopefully dump the rubbish that is Macnair's dad into prison."
"And worst case scenario?"
"Mr. Malfoy and Macnair's dad are in cahoots with each other, you don't get to find the chamber, and all muggleborns go to the grave."
Before Draco could say something, probably a protest, Lars intervened. "I don't like Mr. Malfoy that much because they all say he is or was a you-know-what, doesn't like anything muggle or the like but I really doubt that he'd give a hand in opening the chamber."
"It is not that I don't like you having faith that my father is not, as Theo so eloquently put it, in cahoots with Macnair's father," Draco said wryly, "but what makes you say that?"
"Because you're here Draco." Theo was the one who answered. "Slytherins like us pride in our self-preservation and wariness of mind. Mr. Malfoy is by no means an idiot to give a hand in releasing a dangerous creature in the school full of children like us. The monster might have been tasked to persecute muggleborns, but who's to say that it can't attack a pureblood, or won't for that matter."
"Are we done psychoanalysing Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked drily, impatient enough as it were.
"Psychoanalysing?" Both Lars and Draco asked. Harry just shook his head and told Theo to tell them what he thought of.
"Macnair," Theo said, "the senior, one I mean. I think he's in cahoots with somebody from Gryffindor."
"That's -"
"Very likely," Theo cut off Lars. "Apart from you two, and the different heads, nobody can enter..." Theo paused to sneeze, "enter other houses' dormitories and common rooms so whoever took that diary is a Gryffindor, and whoever took that diary is possibly being possessed by it."
"Possessed?" Draco questioned. "Now that sounds really farfetched."
"But neither impossible nor improbable," Theo defended.
"Yes quite, it's not impossible and improbable for a diary, a diary, to possess someone," Draco said sarcastically.
"It's also impossible that a diary will talk back in the person of a real one and show actual memories," Lars countered, backing up Theo.
"All of us should've learnt by now," Harry said to them three, "that nearly nothing is impossible in our world."
"But Harry," Draco protested, "for a diary to possess someone is...completely ridiculous. It's unheard of!"
"So is to survive a killing curse with nothing but a scar," he retorted.
"Fine," Draco conceded, "say that someone is being possessed by that diary...question is who?"
"And how," Theo added.
"It's obviously a work of very dark magic...what else could it be?"
"Come off, even dark magic is supposed to have limitations." Draco said with a huff.
"Limitation" drawled Harry "is what dark magic tries to break."
"What?" Harry didn't bother explaining but Theo did.
"If we look at it this way, the purpose of Dark Arts is to break limitations," Theo began. "To become more powerful than you are now, meaning unnaturally powerful, if other things don't work, you'll have to delve into the darkest of arts. If you want immortality but you're not a trained Alchemist you will still turn to the dark arts and so on."
"Right," Draco drawled. "How would you know that?"
"Uhm, common sense?" Theo replied drily. "Really, you can't come to that conclusion?"
"Sorry, Theodore, not exactly everybody wants to think things through all the time," Lars retorted sardonically. "So what do we do now?"
"Can we even do something with what we know?" Harry asked the three. "We don't know where the chamber is, we can't find the diary even when I told Porthos to look for it."
"So we're stuck."
"Evidently," replied Harry. "That and I can't call on Porthos all the time from here on just so I could have him search for us."
"Why not?" Draco questioned. "You're his master aren't you?"
"Yes but dad –I mean Midas also has Porthos answer him." he informed them. The look that the three were giving was clearly stating that he should elaborate.
"He's been asking questions," he said with a sigh. "A few days ago, I received a missive from him asking why I'm ordering Porthos to do such things."
"Things such as?"
Harry shrugged. "Searching the house upside down for Seraphim, looking for a diary which was evidently not mine, searching where I can find roosters –don't give me that look Lawrence Charlus Potter-, looking for books about cursed objects, and so on and so forth."
"And what did you tell him?"
"Past time research," he replied simply.
"Mate, that kind of reply will result to more questions, you know," said Draco. "Surely you can make a better excuse than that."
"Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they'll believe it," he recited.
"It's not a big lie, Harry."
"It's not a whole lie either." Harry retorted, not bothering to defend his choice of answer any more. He can be petulant to Midas, act like a brat sometimes, a very unruly child even, but what he cannot do was incessantly lie to Midas. He can do little white lies and indirect answers, but blatantly lying still, he didn't have the guts for that when it came to his guardian.
The days passed one by one swiftly. The heir of Slytherin scare grew even when there wasn't any attack so far. With each passing day, Harry grew even more anxious, and agitated about everything although a bit relieved that Midas, though dubiously, accepted his reason and warned him not to do anything foolish so as to get killed. He became a bit more impatient than he was because he can't take his mind off what was happening inside the castle, snapping at just about everybody who tried to get him in a conversation. He wasn't usually one to irrationally take the blame, or responsibility for things, but he can't help but feel like it was his responsibility as the de facto Lord of the House of Slytherin to stop the psychotic heir.
He felt like an utter hypocrite as well for he told his brother not to dwell on people's accusation and just ignore it, yet he, someone who wasn't even in the suspect list, felt guilty, or maybe not guilty but at least responsible for it! He can't act because of his promise to his brother, that and even if they find a rooster, how can they even have the basilisk come out and go near enough for them to kill it with a rooster's crow?
And then there was Theo who told Harry of his distrust of Draco. Harry was a bit confused. The two acted like the best of friends ever since the blonde pureblood's apology the previous year. He'd never have expected Theo to bear such a suspicious mind regarding Draco.
"I don't care if it's self-preservation, Harry," said Theo, pointing out the fact that it was very easy for Draco to talk to the other pureblood supremacist in the school about how the psychotic heir will finish Salazar Slytherin's work.
"Self-preservation or not," Theo continued, "I don't like what he's doing. It might have never reached your ears –Merlin knows they still follow Draco's orders, but he says bad things about not-purebloods with ease! He is a supremacist when he isn't with us, Harry. I don't know if I can trust him. You don't even know if he's already told his father that you're an heir." Harry felt alarmed all of a sudden, and a tinge of resentment flowed inside him. Theo could be trusted, that much he can say, but what of Draco? Why had he trusted that pureblood in the first place? Sure Draco swore an oath but even he knew that there was a way to get around oaths. He can't even remember Draco's exact oath.
"It's...a mistake I would have to deal with if he had," Harry said, resigned to the fact that Draco might have told someone about his lineage.
Harry shook Draco out of his head. He'd deal with the pureblood at some other time. There wouldn't be much harm he can see should or had the blonde told anyone about the secret. It didn't matter much. His priority at present was still the chamber.
"I digress," he said, "is there any news? You were out for a long time."
Theo looked blank for a moment before exclaiming "oh yes!"
"What?"
"Lars told me that the school cancelled the Quiditch match for the day and possibly for the rest of the year."
Harry raised an eyebrow in interest, the news being the most interesting he'd heard in days. "Did they now?" he drawled. "So, did someone finally die, then?"
Theo gawked at him. "What –why ever are you asking if someone died?" his friend sounded rather appalled at his nonchalant way of asking if someone had died.
"The match has been cancelled, Theo." He pointed out, "Throughout this whole debacle, they've not cancelled anything."
Sighing, Theo said "Yes, it was for good reason but NO ONE died, contrary to your rather morbid expectation." Harry mentally huffed at the word, expectation. Yes, he thought. Maybe he did expect that someone died so as to prove himself right to his brother. It was petty, that much he would admit, but he was not going to back down so as to say that his brother was right to be that of a wishful thinker.
"Petrified then," he reworded. "Who was it this time?"
"Play with me and we'll talk." Theo bargained while setting up a board game called Scrabble. Harry agreed and Theo informed him that two more students got petrified. Granger and Clearwater, a Ravenclaw prefect, were those new victims. The teachers' warning that nobody should wander around the halls without somebody with them certainly didn't make any difference apart from increasing the scare.
The day after the two girls were found petrified, Professor Dumbledore was immediately relieved of his position as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Hagrid was relieved of his duties as gamekeeper as well. The reason was unknown to the students, bar the five of them.
Who in their right mind would get the Headmaster to step down? Harry thought with disdain to whomever had the old man sacked, blocking his mind of the incessant noise in their table. With the Headmaster away from the school, it was very likely that the attacks would escalate. Removing the Headmaster away from the school was decidedly not a very good idea.
Some Slytherin students were absolutely pleased that Professor Dumbledore had gotten suspended. Some including himself and Theo were not. He wasn't quite sure with Draco. The blonde pureblood was doing a great job in slandering the Headmaster. Harry was irked about it but kept to himself.
"Harry!" Theo called for his attention. "I'm asking you what electives you're going to take." he raised an eyebrow at his friend's question, thinking incredulous that he can ask that question in a time like this. Theo merely shrugged, something Harry knew was a sign that his friend was just trying to ease of the tension.
"Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," he replied with a sigh. "Yours?"
"Divination, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies," Theo recited.
Harry was surprised at Theo's third choice. "Have you gone mental?"
"My words exactly," Draco interjected, separating a bit from his other friends. "I'm taking Muggle Studies as well, Ancient Runes and Divination."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Both of you are bloody mental." Muggle studies was just about one of those classes that was practically useless. Anyone with enough of a brain can learn basic muggle things fast enough. It was a bloody waste of time to take the class.
"Well, thank Merlin for that," Theo said.
Their conversation about the electives didn't last very long because he drifted to his own thoughts once again. Thinking quietly didn't last very long either because he was snapped out of his thoughts once again by a call of his name. This time, it was his brother's voice
"Oh what is it now?" he reacted in annoyance.
"Harry it's...just...just meet with us," Lars said with utmost importance. "All three of you, meet with us later after the lessons."
"What does that have to do with us?" Draco questioned, causing Theo to smack their blonde friend's head.
"Shush Draco," Theo admonished. "Ok we'll be there." Lars and Weasley looked at each other before leaving.
Later that afternoon, Harry had finally decided not to ever trust his brother about time related things.
"Well then, start talking the pair of you." he barked out the moment Lars and Weasley arrived. Seriously, what was the point of giving out a time to meet when they would just be late all the same?
"Start talking?" Weasley repeated. "Fine we'll start talking, that git's" Weasley tilted his head to Draco's direction, "father was the one who had Dumbledore sacked last night."
"Father did that?" Draco said with a bit of a disappointed look. "I don't believe it, I mean doesn't he realize that Dumbledore is needed here?" Harry wasn't quite sure which was an act that Draco was disappointed or actually pleased at the Headmaster's suspension.
"Hello?" Weasley said with a sardonic sounding laugh. "This is your father we are talking about, Malfoy. In case you've forgotten, your father wouldn't give a knut if all muggleborns get killed here!"
"Ron!" Lars exclaimed, aghast. "That's a baseless accusation, mate."
"Baseless? How can it be baseless Lars?" Weasley questioned, voice raised. "We all know that his father is a muggle hating deatheater along with that psychotic-" Weasley was cut off by Lars' yell of "Ron that's enough!"
"But Lars,"
"Ron, just...please stop." Weasley sobered up and kept his mouth shut.
"Look, Weasley –Ronald." Draco began without the usual sneer at saying Weasley's name. "I, I know that you lost your relatives during the war, and of course that was because of you-know-who and his followers but I implore you to stop thinking of my family the way you think of my mother's sister."
Weasley's furious look softened a little bit at hearing Draco's humble statement. This was indeed a surprise, Harry thought. Who knew that Draco can sound humble and resigned in front of a Weasley? Maybe their suspicion of Draco was a bit misplaced.
"I-" Weasley paused before saying "Sorry for that..."
"Fudge -"
"Minister Fudge." Harry interjected instinctively.
"So, him, he was in Hagrid's hut last night," Lars explained. "He gave an order to bring Hagrid to Azkaban, frankly I don't know why apart from he was the one convicted fifty years ago, alright back on track Mr. Malfoy arrived with a document with all the signatures of the school governors ordering Professor Dumbledore's removal."
"I...I don't know what to say," Draco said with a sigh.
"Then don't say anything," Harry bit out. "What else?"
"Nothing, that's all, nothing at all." Lars replied, looking nervous. Harry scanned his brother thoroughly. He thought it probable that his twin was hiding something from him but he won't beat it out of his twin. It's their call if they didn't want to tell him something especially if it was personal.
"I think I need to leave." Draco said abruptly to them. "I need some air." Without waiting for them to say 'ok', 'bye', or any of that sort, Draco left.
"Well, he's more affected than I thought," Weasley remarked.
"You don't say?" Lars said drily, surprisingly.
Harry thought that Draco was affected because it was somehow a sign that his father would never approve of muggles. Lucius Malfoy the Lord of the House of Malfoy will never accept his only son and heir to be a muggle-loving, or at least a muggle-tolerating wizard.
"Very well," he began, clasping his hand in the process, "if that's all, I think we should leave as well." With a snap of his fingers, he had already cancelled the privacy charm that Lars had set up. Lars frowned and looked displeased with the ease he had in cancelling the charm.
"Maybe I was wrong about Draco, after all." Theo declared as they headed back to their common room. With grimace, Theo added, "although, I might have been wrong about Mr. Malfoy too."
"That he wouldn't set a monster here?"
"Yes," Theo gulped, "It wasn't unfounded, you know, my trust with Mr. Malfoy not wanting Draco or anyone in Slytherin to get hurt. Between him and my father, he was always considerably and relatively kinder."
"But?"
"But I'm really starting to think that he has something to do with all of this."
"You mean in cahoots with Macnair Sr."
"Well what else?" Theo retorted. "Look, we all know that Mr. Malfoy is far from an idiot but, I don't –I don't know." his friend paused to sigh, a sad sigh, he noted. "What Lars and I said weeks before, it only seems like naivety and wishful thinking now."
Harry shrugged. "Well," he said, "hope springs eternal."
Not a week after they discovered from Lars that it was Mr. Malfoy who had Professor Dumledore sacked, Harry figured that he was right when he thought that his brother was not telling them something. He regretted thinking to himself that it was his brother's call whether to tell him or not. If it was personal, he wouldn't have minded but knowing that it was not, made him very, very livid.
At noon time, sometime after they have eaten their lunch. The four of them, Harry, Lars, Theo and Weasley, were in the library, in the same part where Granger and Clearwater were found.
"Lawrence, tell me." Harry began, as he repeated in his mind that his brother and Weasley had almost gotten themselves eaten by a horde of acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest the previous night. "Tell me what gave you the grand idea that it's wise to follow the gamekeeper's advice to go inside the forbidden forest."
"Additional answers!" Lars and Weasley exclaimed at the same time.
"We just want additional answers, Harry, really." Lars said, trying to make light of his ire.
Harry raised an eyebrow and then crossed his arms. "Do tell," he drawled, "what additional answers did the two of you get." Lars and Weasley just exchanged looks before both looking downwards. Harry scoffed.
"Shut it Weasley!" Harry snarled angrily when he heard Weasley whisper to Lars that they shouldn't have let it slip that they went to the forbidden forest the previous night. "If you're a good friend Weasley, you wouldn't tolerate my brother facing danger." Weasley flushed at his implication of not being a good friend to his brother.
"Time and time again I told you that you should think about what you're doing first." he said, annoyed enough. "I'm not a broken record, Lawrence, and have no intention of being one just so you are aware." Lars and Weasley gave him a pair of blank looks for a moment at his mention of being a broken record.
"Mind you, I already thought that it's a bad idea to follow the spiders," Weasley piped up.
Harry crossed his arms. "You didn't actually stop him, did you?" he questioned Weasley. "It's like shouting 'troll' at someone as they get clubbed by a troll. You should be like 'troll, there's a bloody troll' before they've even get caught!"
Harry sighed. "Look, how many times must I tell you to think things through?"
"A lot of time, likely," Lars said, shrugging sheepishly, "we're not the best in that department."
"Obviously," he drawled. "Did you find out anything? Apart from what we already know."
"Well, Aragog did say that the monster was born in the castle," Lars mentioned. "I think that that's the only thing that we don't know. I can't...quite remember all of it. We were quite busy saving our hides in the forest."
"How 'bout Granger, by the way?" he asked. "Did she say nothing before she got petrified?"
Lars and Weasley both shook their heads negatively. "No nothing but," his brother paused, "when they were found, Hermione was holding a mirror. Does that mean anything?"
"Not to me it doesn't," he replied immediately. "Well, we best be careful, all of us."
After a moment of silence, Harry asked, or rather ordered, the others to leave except his brother.
"Lawrence, I'm beginning to hate you for all of this," he stated outright with no hesitation whatsoever. "First, you didn't tell me about the snake until you slip and now this."
"You keep secrets from me," Lars pointed out defensively.
"I do," Harry made no effort to deny it. "But not about this, Lawrence, remember that. Whenever I find out something important, I tell it to you. Whenever something important is going on, I share it to you."
"I know." Lars sighed and looked down. "I just...I didn't see that it was important."
"You'll regret it Lawrence," he said quite prophetically. "I do not withhold any vital information from you since we started searching for answers yet you did from me. You're an inconsiderate cat, I think you are." Without waiting for any response from Lars, Harry walked away.