CHAPTER 4

The Chamber of Secrets

"Who opened the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Draco conversationally as he took a sip of Butterbeer.

"What?"

For nearly a month, they'd been meeting weekly in the Quidditch shed, sitting next to each other as they talked. This time, he'd brought four bottles of Butterbeer with him, charmed to stay cool, though the cold weather could have easily done it for him. She almost wished he'd brought hot cocoa instead. She lifted the bottle to her lips when he gave it to her, but paused for a moment, gazing at him skeptically. She handed him the bottle.

"You drink from it first," she said.

Malfoy laughed.

"You think I'm going to poison you?" he asked, but he took a sip anyway and handed it back to her.

Hermione absently wiped the mouth of the bottle with her robes and took a drink from it.

"The Chamber?" he prodded.

"Oh," she said. "What makes you think I know?

"In Second Year, you lot Polyjuiced yourselves into Crabbe and Goyle and came down to the dungeons for a conversation with me," said Draco.

"You knew?!"

"Not at the time, but about fifteen minutes later, I put the pieces together," he said. "Which one were you? Crabbe or Goyle?"

"Oh, I was…" she began, but she trailed off and took another drink of Butterbeer.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. She was avoiding his gaze and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.

"I wasn't there," said Hermione quickly, trying to avoid the subject. "It was just Harry and Ron."

"Why weren't you there? You might have gotten more information out of me if you hadn't left it to those two idiots," said Malfoy.

"I was supposed to Polyjuice myself into Millicent Bulstrode," said Hermione miserably.

"Millie?" laughed Malfoy. "Would have loved to see you try to impersonate her. You know she's got a thick Scouse accent, right?"

"Yes, but I didn't have anyone else's hair," said Hermione. "Well, at least, I thought I had her hair. It turned out that…"

Malfoy waited for her to continue. She buried her face in her hands.

"It was her cat's hair," said Hermione miserably through her hands. "I Polyjuiced myself into her cat."

"MUDBLOOD?!"

At this, Hermione shrieked and sat up, landing punches all over him as hard as she could. He was laughing and trying to block her fists from the softer parts of his torso.

"No, stop, stop!" he said through laughter and pain. "Millie's CAT is called Mudblood!"

Hermione's fist froze and a reluctant smile crept across her lips. He was massaging his ribs where she'd hit him. She sat back against the wall and took another sip of her drink.

"So, who opened the Chamber? I know you know," said Draco.

Hermione paused. She looked at him, biting her lip.

"Ginny Weasley," she said.

Malfoy's eyes bugged out of his head.

"Weasley?! The Weasleys are descended from Salazar Slytherin?!" he cried, nearly choking on the words.

"No, no, they're not," she explained. "There was this diary… oh, Malfoy, I'm not sure I should be telling you this."

"If I tell anyone about it, I will keel over and die," said Malfoy. "Literally."

Hermione considered him. As had become their custom, he was sitting against the wall, his forearms resting on his knees. He'd taken to conjuring a cushion for her to sit on, though he himself sat on the floor. Hermione hadn't expected chivalry from him, but his manners were impeccable. She'd simply never been on the receiving end of them before. She sipped her Butterbeer.

"Do you know the name Tom Riddle?" asked Hermione.

Malfoy shook his head.

"It's Voldemort's name," she said, and at his disbelieving scoff, she raised an eyebrow. "It is. It was his name when he was young, when he was a student at Hogwarts. Before… before everything."

"Really?"

"Yes," she said. "Tom Riddle was a young, handsome man, by all accounts, but he was obsessed with bloodlines."

"Young, handsome, obsessed with bloodlines," said Malfoy, ticking off the words on his fingers. "Sounds familiar."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him a half-hearted punch on the shoulder. He pulled away, rubbing his shoulder exaggeratedly, but he was grinning at her. He picked up his drink and lifted it to his lips, taking a long pull from the bottle.

"He's half-blood, did you know that?" she said.

Malfoy choked on his Butterbeer, a great gulp of it spluttering out from his mouth onto his front as he coughed. He was wiping his mouth and reaching for his wand to cast a cleaning charm. Hermione watched him with amusement as he gasped for breath.

"You're trying to tell me that the Dark Lord himself is a half-blood?" asked Malfoy in between coughs as he waved his wand to clean his shirt.

"It's the truth. Ask him," said Hermione in challenge.

Malfoy snorted.

"Oh, sure," he said. "During our next heart-to-heart."

He was smiling to himself as he finished cleaning up. When he was finished, he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

"He had a diary. I'm not really sure how it worked, and Ginny's never really said, but she found it," said Hermione, but then reconsidered. "No, she didn't find it, actually. Your father gave it to her."

"When would my father have given her anything?" said Malfoy, a pale eyebrow arched in disbelief.

"He sort of… conveniently left it for her to find. I'm not sure how much he knew about it, but he knew it was the key to opening the Chamber," said Hermione. "The longer she wrote in it, the more powerful Tom Riddle became. Through him, she opened the Chamber. He almost came back to power that night, but Harry stopped him."

"Of course, he did," said Malfoy with a very large eye roll.

"And thank goodness for it. I was Petrified at the time, if you'd forgotten," she said.

"Oh," said Malfoy. "Actually, I had forgotten that."

"Lucky you," she said coolly.

Malfoy was diligently avoiding her gaze.

"It didn't matter in the end, anyway. The Dark Lord came back," said Malfoy. "The summer after our Fourth year was… intense. My father was gone more than he was around. His task was to smooth the way at the Ministry. He managed to convince most everyone that Potter was lying."

"We all wondered if Fudge was under the Imperius," said Hermione.

"No, no," said Malfoy, waving his hand dismissively. "There wasn't any need for that."

"Not sure if that's more or less reassuring," she replied. "But Fudge is gone now. It's worked out."

"For your side, maybe," said Malfoy. "But Scrimgeour's been a tough nut to crack. That's why the Dark Lord's moved on from trying to infiltrate the Ministry. Going straight to the source of trouble."

"Dumbledore," said Hermione softly.

Malfoy nodded curtly.

"You don't have to do it, Malfoy," she said. "I mean, assuming you even could."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said acidly.

"I've seen Harry face Voldemort three times now. Nearly every year I've been at Hogwarts," said Hermione. "With or without Dumbledore, Voldemort doesn't stand a chance."

"Sure," said Malfoy, and he was standing from the floor.

He offered her his hand, ever the gallant gentleman, but she didn't take it. She pushed herself up off the floor, and he waved his wand to vanish the cushion she'd been sitting on. He took a few steps across the shed to the door and was just reaching for the door handle.

"Malfoy?"

"Hm?" he replied, turning back to her.

"Harry never loses," she said. "Never."

"Guess I'll have to take my chances, then," he said, a note of gloom in his voice.

And with that, he pulled the door to the shed open and left.

(())

Author's Note: The scene about Millicent Bulstrode's cat was inspired by an abandoned fic that I always wished the author had finished! It's called The Devil's Triangle, and I'm going to be an old woman on my death bed asking my grandchildren if she ever uploaded the last chapter!