Harriet Potter Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday
"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
~Albert Einstein
Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Corridor, Hogwarts- February 15, 1993
Harriet's prediction about finally having chaperones to take them around the corridors came true the next day. With Dumbledore away at the Ministry until the next day, it seemed as though McGonagall's nerves had finally snapped and she had felt it necessary to have teachers escort students to their classes.
After DADA (during which Lockhart assured the students that they were all perfectly safe with im around and Harriet rolled her eyes and passed notes to Ron and Neville), Professor Snape came to get them for their next class.
Harriet frowned and, as they walked swiftly through the halls, said, "Professor Snape? We have History of Magic next. I thought Professor Lupin was going to come get us."
The other students watched wide eyed, impressed at her daring.
Snape snarled. "Professor Lupin is incapacitated at the moment."
"But I thought-" Harriet began.
"What?" Snape said.
Harriet had been about to say that she thought the full moon wasn't until tomorrow night, but Harriet remembered how exhausted Lupin had been last night, so it wasn't too surprising that he was taking the next few days to rest.
"I thought that Professor Lupin was going to teach us about Hinkypunks today," Harriet finished weakly. Snape snorted as they approached the door to the classroom. He put the key in the lock.
"Well, clearly, he isn't. And I will decide what you learn today," Snape finished, swinging the door open.
Snape's face didn't change, but Harriet was close enough to see his hand tense on the doorknob when he took in the scene in front of him.
Harriet looked from underneath his arm and gasped. The classroom had been ransacked. Papers were everywhere, desks had been overturned, books tossed on the floor. The papers on Remus's desk were thrown about and the drawers were all open.
Without any hesitation, Harriet ducked under Snape's arm and ran to Remus's desk.
"Potter!" Snape barked, clearly not in the mood to be toyed with.
Harriet rummaged through the desk that Remus had put the diary in last night. Sure enough, it was no longer there.
"The diary's missing," Harriet wailed desperately, remembering Remus's reaction last night.
Snape simply raised an eyebrow and turned to the rest of the class.
"I suggest we adjourn for the day," he drawled. "I will escort you all to your common rooms, and you will wait there until further notice. Class dismissed."
Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts- February 15, 1993
Snape had dropped the Slytherins off in their common room, then escorted the Gryffindors to theirs. Before Harriet could go inside, though, Snape pulled her aside and asked her about the diary. Harriet explained everything - how she and Ron and Hermione had found it, how it hadn't been ruined by the ink in her bag, and Remus's reaction.
Snape's face didn't change until she mentioned Tom Riddle's name, just like Remus. At that point, Snape all but shoved her into the common room.
Harriet scowled as the door slammed shut, muttering mild curses under her breath. Ron, who had been waiting for her, asked, "Blimey, Harri. What did Snape say to you?"
"He just wanted to yell at me for going into the classroom when he said not to," Harriet thought quickly. Ron nodded sympathetically as Harriet rubbed her eyes.
Hermione walked up to them and, making sure not to look at Harriet, asked Ron, "Are we supposed to wait here? Or can we go to our next class?"
Ron shrugged, obviously not sure, so Harriet decided chime in with, "I think we can just wait and see if a teacher comes to take us to our next class. If nobody shows up, we can just wait here."
Hermione sniffed and, not acknowledging that Harriet had a fair point, turned around sharply and left.
"Do you think she'll ever talk to me again?" Harriet asked Ron dejectedly.
"I'm sure," Ron said confidently. Then he looked a bit less certain, "Just try not to insult her again, yea?"
Harriet nodded and bid Ron goodbye as he went over to console Hermione. Harriet decided to go and see Neville, in the meantime, who was leaning over some sort of small, spiky, plant. She sat down next to him on the floor in the corner.
"What's that?" she asked.
He looked and smiled, looking truly happy, as he always did whenever he got to show off his knowledge of Herbology. "It's a cactus that my uncle sent me. It's called a Mimblus Mimbletonia. It's really rare! I don't think they have them at Hogwarts!"
"Are you going to show Madam Sprout?" Harriet asked. Neville nodded eagerly.
"Maybe she'll want to start breeding 'em," he said cheerfully. "They've got an amazing defence mechanism."
"Yea?" Harriet asked, making herself comfortable.
"Yea," Neville confirmed. He handed Harriet the plant (which she took carefully and placed in her lap) and reached for his school bag. He pulled a quill out. "Look."
Neville poked the plant and, without any warning, it spurted out an incredible amount of a thick, sticky liquid. Harriet sputtered, trying to get the disgusting goop out of her mouth, and did her best to ignore the laughter of her classmates.
Next to her, Neville stuttered an apology. "I'm so sorry, Harriet! I didn't know it'd do that, I promise-"
"It's fine," Harriet said. She hastily handed Neville his plant and stood up. "I'm going to go wash up, alright?"
"Alright," Neville said glumly, no doubt thinking that his newly formed friendship with Harriet had come to a quick- and rather disgusting- end.
Harriet wasn't really in the mood to console Neville, though. She was tired, confused, scared, and, on top of it all, worried about the re-match against Slytherin tomorrow. Once she showered and changed, Harriet decided not to go downstairs. Instead, she made herself comfortable in bed and closed her eyes.
Just for a minute...
It was a sign of how tired she was that she fell asleep almost immediately.
They were walking quickly down the corridor. They had just seen Dumbledore, and they had promised him they'd go right back to their dorm, but they couldn't. Not yet. They had one last thing they needed to do.
They weren't going back to the orphanage.
They weren't going to get caught.
Not for this, not for the Chamber, not for anything.
The Chamber? What do we know about the Chamber?
Shh, nothing. Nothing at all.
They walked into the dungeons. The torches hadn't been lit, but they could see their way around. They had spent enough time here. They opened the door and stepped inside, then shut it carefully behind them, leaving it slightly ajar.
From there, they could see everything.
They wouldn't miss it.
They wouldn't miss him.
Who?
Hagrid.
Why?
They needed to wait for Hagrid. They needed to catch him in the act.
Act of what?
They waited. For at least an hour. But that was alright. They were patient and they were determined. They could not- would not- fail.
Somebody was coming.
Hagrid.
They watched as he crept along the passage and then, once whoever it was had passed, they followed, as silently as they could.
After several minutes, they finally reached a corner. They stopped suddenly, hearing a voice.
"C'mon... gotta get yeh outta here... C'mon now... in the box..."
Hagrid?
Hagrid.
They stepped out from around the corner, and there was Hagrid, standing in front of a door, trying to coax something into a large box.
They announced, "Hello, Rubeus."
Hagrid- Rubeus- Hagrid. Hagrid Jumped.
"What yer doing down here, Tom?"
"It's all over," they said, and it was. No more attacks, no more suspicions, no more orphanage. If they played their cards right, it would all be over.
They continued, "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."
They got great satisfaction when Hagrid stuttered, obviously not sure what to say.
"Now, Hagrid," they said placatingly, "I don't think you meant to kill anyone, but really. Did you honestly think that monsters would make good pets?"
"It never killed no one!" Hagrid defended.
They knew that, but nobody else did.
"Come, come," they said. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least thing Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered-"
"It wasn't him," he roared, standing in front of the door, trying to block whatever was in the room. They heard ominous pinching and clicking.
They drew out their wand.
"Stand aside," the ordered.
Their spill hit the corridor and the large door flew open. It knocked Hagrid against the wall opposite them
Hagrid!
Good!
Is he alright?
I hope not!
He's my friend.
No, he isn't.
From the door, emerged the monster that Hagrid had been trying to protect: a hairy body, a tanlgle of black legs, razor-sharp pincers-
They raised their wand again, but it was too late. They couldn't stop themselves from being knocked over by that thing as it scuttled out the room and down the corridor.
They stood up as quickly as they could, ready to chase after it, but there was no way they could catch it.
They had to stop it
They would need proof.
They raised their wand again, but were suddenly knocked to the ground by a huge forced.
"NOOO!" cried Hagrid, holding them down, reaching for the wand.
They couldn't breathe, couldn't see.
"Harriet!"
Harriet awake with a start, Angeline Johnson standing over her. Harriet blinked and looked around. She was still in her dorm room, tangled up in her blankets. She looked up at Angelina.
"Are you alright?" Angelina asked.
Harriet nodded slowly. "I think so. Thanks."
"You're welcome," Angelina said. "I'd get ready soon if I were you."
"Ready for what?"
"Quidditch practice," Angelina told her, as though speaking to a small child. Harriet finally noticed that Angeline was wearing her Quidditch uniform. "You slept through dinner."
"I did?" Harriet said surprised.
"Don't worry, though, classes have been canceled." Angeline explained, pulling Harriet's uniform out of her trunk for her. Angeline placed them on the bed and handed Harriet a small package, wrapped in a napkin.
"I got you some food," Angelina said, before turning to leave. She called over her shoulder, "Hurry up!"
Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts- February 16, 1993
The tension in the air was thick. The crowds, heavily divided between Gryffindor and Slytherin, continued to shout insults at each other. Ron and Hermione were both incredibly nervous, worried about Harriet, not that Hermione would admit it at the moment.
Neither had seen Harriet since classes were cancelled the day before (Dumbledore had finally arrived back at the castle and the break-in in Remus's office had worried him more than was warranted). Harriet had been at a Quidditch meeting the night before, and then the same the early morning.
The school had all traipsed out for the match. Classes had been cancelled for they day, too. The teachers hadn't wanted to do it, but it was the only way to ensure the Quidditch schedule stayed on track for the end of the year.
And, Dumbledore had pointed out reasonably, after all of the troubles of the year, the students needed something more fun and diverting.
Now, all of the students and most of the faculty were huddled in the stands, waiting for the game to begin.
Ron spotted Hagrid and waved him over. "Hagrid! We're over here!"
It had became customary for Hagrid to sit with Ron and Hermione during Quidditch Games- only he normally didn't have several dead roosters slung over his shoulders. Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Hagrid? What's with the-?"
"The roosters?" Hagrid finished. "Found 'em dead on Hogwarts grounds. Somethin's been killing 'em off. Have ter figure out what."
"Something's killing the roosters off, you said?" Hermione asked suddenly, after a few minutes, her eyes shining with newfound realization.
"That's what he just said," Ron said, worrying for her sanity. "Are you sure you're-"
"'-alright?' I'm fine!" Hermione said, beginning to make her way away from the stands. "I have to go the library to check something. I'll be right back!"
"Wait!" Ron called. "What about the Quidditch match?"
"Tell me how it goes!" Hermione called over her shoulder as she dashed away.
Ron shook his head and turned to Hagrid. "Women."
Harriet Potter, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts- February 16, 1993
Harriet had listened only half-heartedly to Wood's speech. The rest of her mind had turned to thinking about her dream.
Her dreams with Riddle had already proven to be reliable- the Chamber had been opened before and Riddle was real. But did that mean that Hagrid had opened the Chamber? If Harriet believed all of the information from her dreams, she would have to believe that Riddle had murdered somebody in cold blood and was interested in splitting his soul.
Did that mean he could be trusted about Hagrid?
Harriet didn't know.
She desperately wanted to talk somebody, but hadn't had the chance. She would see Ron soon enough, she supposed, but this sort of thing wasn't his strong suit. He was much more suited to helping Harriet construct her wildly impossible plans, what with his strong affinity for chess.
Harriet really needed to talk to Hermione, who, much to Harriet's chagrin, since she was still angry at her, was much better at taking random, insignificant pieces of information and putting them together to see the big picture.
To be fair, Harriet had done it, too, but only when under extreme pressure, like with an evil wizard trying to kill her.
There's a thought, Harriet mused, If the Professor's want me to get good grades, they just need to threaten to kill me, or sic a dragon on me.
A tap on her shoulder alerted Harriet to the fact that they were leaving for the pitch. Katie was looking at her, eyebrow raised.
"You were really paying attention, weren't you?" She asked sarcastically. Harriet hit her shoulder and hushed her, looking at Wood, who, thankfully, was not paying attention. He seemed to be having a nervous breakdown in the corner, and Fred and George were rying to snap him out of it.
"Lot on my mind," Harriet admitted.
"It'll all float away as soon as you're in the air," Katie encouraged, and Harriet smiled. She never felt as free as when she was on a broom. It was one of the best feelings in the world.
"Think we can do this?" She asked.
Katie nodded. "Of course we can. The Slytherins have nothing on us, especially now that you have your Firebolt."
Harriet clutched the broom in her hand tighter, feeling the smooth handle against her palm, just as Wood seemed to recover himself.
"You know what we need to do!" He said. "If we lose today, we're out of the running, so just- just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay! Now move out!"
When they walked out onto the field, the roar of applause that greeted them was deafening. The Slytherin team, dressed in their green and silver robes, were waiting for them, Flint grinned widely at Oliver, who was still looking a bit pale. Harriet, however, had her attention focused solely on Malfoy, who wore a satisfied smirk.
"What are you so happy about?" Harriet asked out of the corner of her mouth as the Team Captain's shook hands on Madam Hooch's orders.
"Just going to be a good game, Potter," Malfoy said. Harriet narrowed her eyes. Now she knew something was wrong, but had no idea what. All she could do was hope that Ron and Hermione were on top of things.
Madam Hooch chose that moment to announce, "Mount your brooms… on my whistle… three — two — one —"
Harriet didn't hesitate to kick her broom into the air, feeling herself rise higher and higher. Harriet may have loved her Nimbus, but she couldn't deny that the quality of her Firebolt far surpassed it. The broom seemed to read her thought, it was so sensitive to her touch. She didn't let herself get distracted thought: distracted Seekers didn't find the Snitch.
As she zoomed around the stadium, she did allow herself to listen to Lee Jordan's (always hilarious) commentary.
"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harriet Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship —"
"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" demanded Professor McGonagall's voice.
"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —"
"Jordan!" McGonagall screeched.
"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…"
Harriet didn't pay any more attention to Jordan. She began to circle the stadium, searching for the tell-tale glint of gold. It was difficult, though, with Draco Malfoy continually flying in front of her and cutting her off.
She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him as she was forced to swerve sharply to the left.
Fred, sensing her frustration, called out, "Show 'im your acceleration, Harri!"
He had obviously picked up on Ron's occasional nickname for her.
Harriet nudged the Firebolt forward, easily leaving Malfoy behind as she headed to Slytherin side of the field. Katie scored the first goal of the match. Amidst the applause, Harriet saw it- the Snitch. It was close to the ground, near the stands.
She dived. They were her speciality. Harriet felt the broom speed up, but didn't make any effort to slow down.
She was ten feet away, Malfoy scrambling to catch up, when a Bludger hit by one of the Slytherin Beaters and veered off course, pelting Harriet out of nowhere. Thankfully, all of Harriet's practice at avoiding Bludgers from earlier in the year, she narrowly avoided it.
It was only a few seconds, but that was enough.
The Snitch had vanished.
Ignoring the disappointed muttering of the crowd (or doing her best to), Harriet gained a sort of grim satisfaction when George hit a Bludger at the Beater who had tried to hit Harriet. The Beater (Harriet recognized him as a sixth year) was forced to roll midair.
"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Malfoy's Nimbus 2001 is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —"
"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"
Harriet was beginning to get a bit nervous. Slytherin had scored enough points so that Gryffindor was only fifty points ahead. If Draco (by some miraculous chance) managed to get the Snitch before she did, Slytherin would win and her father would probably disown her (or send her another Howler, this time with actual yelling).
Harriet dropped lower to avoid one of the Slytherin players when she saw it- another flicker of gold, the hint of a flutter from tiny wings. It was near the Gryffindor goal post.
She shot forward, hand outstretched, when Draco suddenly blocked her. She veered out of habit, more than anything else.
Harriet wouldn't mind knocking Draco off his broom.
At all.
It seemed Wood had a similar idea. "HARRIET! C'MON! YOU TWO CAN'T STAND EACH OTHER, SO ACT LIKE IT! KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM!"
Harriet shot a scowl in Draco's direction, annoyed because the Snitch was now nowhere to be found. She turned her Firebolt upward and soared above the stadium-
With Draco following right behind.
Harriet smirked. Well, if he wanted to mark her instead of looking for the Snitch himself, fine. Let's see whether or not he could keep up.
She dived sharply and Draco, assuming that she'd seen the snitch, followed. However, when Harriet pulled out of the dive, Draco wasn't able to keep up, and continued to hurtle rapidly towards the ground.
As Harriet rose, she saw the Snitch for the third time, this time on the Slytherin side of the field, by their goal post.
Harriet accelerated.
Below her, Draco did the same.
She was gaining-
Almost there-
"Oi!" called Draco from below her. "Potter!"
Harriet turned her head to look at him out of habit and gasped at what she saw.
Three Dementors were looking up at her, mouths open.
She didn't stop to think. Too focused on getting the Snitch, the pulled out her wand and yelled "Expecto patronum!"
Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of her wand.
Harriet didn't really watch, although she could see that it had shot directly at the Dementors, but she was too busy marveling at the fact that her mind was so clear.
Looking ahead, she could see that she was nearly there.
She stretched out her hand-
Her fingers closed around the Snitch, which continued to struggle violently in her grip, and, a moment later, Madam Hooch sounded her whistle.
It was over.
Gryffindor had won.
"That's my girl!" Wood yelled, kissing her soundly, before running off to celebrate with his friends. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie, all gave her large hugs, and Fred almost choked her with the grip he had.
When Harriet finally made it to the ground, the crowd engulfed her.
Before she could panic, though, Ron was there, hugging her and grabbing her shoulders and shaking her and jumping up and down.
"Yes!" Ron yelled. He yanked her arm into the air. "Yes! Yes! Hermione isn't going to believe this! She's going to be sorry she missed this!"
"What?" Harriet demanded, feeling her heart plummet to her stomach at the thought of Hermione missing her Quidditch game.
Ron shook his head quickly and yelled over the crowd, "No! No! Not like that! Harriet-"
Harriet never did learn what Ron was saying as the crowd separated them.
"Well done, Harriet!" Percy congratulated.
"Good for you, Harri!" Seamus beamed.
"Brilliant! Ruddy brilliant!" roared Hagrid.
As excited as she was, Harriet couldn't stand the chaos for long, and it was only a matter of minutes until she decided to head back up to her dorm to write a letter to her parents, and then rest.
As she struggled to find her way out of the commotion, she ran into Dumbledore, who looked oddly out of place in the large mass of students.
He smiled serenely. "That was quite some Patronus."
Before Harriet could ask if it was corporeal and what form it was and she couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of herself, the crowd once again pushed her away.
Merlin's beard, she thought. This is getting ridiculous.
Harriet finally made it out of the group of people, and took a deep breath, glad to be away. Ready to get to her room, she was stopped short again, but this time by a site that she wasn't sure she ever wanted to forget:
Crabbe, Goyle, and one other Slytherin who Harriet didn't recognize were all dressed in dark black robes, being reprimanded by Snape, who had an indignant Malfoy by the ear.
"What could you possibly have been thinking with this ridiculous stunt?" Harriet heard Snape hiss to them. "You are in Slytherin! I have never seen such a disgraceful act from anybody in my house in years. We are Slytherins. We are refined, we are cunning, we are resourceful. But, most of all, we are subtle."
Harriet watched, delighted, as Snape lead them off, most likely to a miserable detention polishing cauldrons.
She smiled all the way to the common rooms.
This would go down as one of the most brilliant days of her life, she was sure of it.
Nothing could go wrong.
Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Girl's Dormitory, February 16, 1993
Harriet sat down in bed, a book on her lap to use as a table, and dipped her quill in ink. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she paused for a moment, not really sure what to say. She turned to Isaura.
"I don't know where to even start," Harriet laughed, the giddiness from winning the game not having waned.
Isaura hissed rom her position, curled up on the bedpost, but said nothing else.
Finally, Harriet sighed and began to write.
Dear Mum and Dad,
We won.
We WON!
GRYFINDOR WON!
Harriet stopped again, not really sure how else to about it. Then she began to write a blow by blow account of the game, knowing that her father and Sirius, if he were to read it, would want to know. When she had finished describing how she had tricked Malfoy with a feint and gotten the Snitch, she began to describe the Dementor incident.
Malfoy played a dirty trick though- he got some Slytherins to dress up in dark robes and pose as Dementors, because he thought they would scare me. He didn't know that I had been taking Patronus lessons with Moony, though, so it was on him when I made a Patronus and shot it at them.
I didn't really think about it when I did it, I was too focused on the Snitch and winning the game, but looking back it sort of makes sense that the Dementors weren't real. I didn't feel sad or scared or hear any screaming or anything.
Because they weren't real, I think I managed to get a corporeal Patronus! Or, at least, more so than I did when I practiced with Remus, since we usually use Boggarts.
I didn't get to see it though, and everybody else was too busy celebrating to tell me what it was.
Hermione probably would have told me, but we're still fighting. I don't really know what to do about that. I know I'm not supposed to tell anybody about Uncle Severus being, well, Uncle Severus, but it's hard sometimes with Ron and Hermione, especially since they know about me being a Parselmouth now.
(Isaura says, "Hi," by the way.)
I'm not asking for permission to tell them (I know why I can't right now), I just wanted- I mean... I don't really know what I'm looking for.
Some advice, maybe?
I miss Hermione.
Ron is brilliant, and so is Neville, but neither of them are girls, and Lavender and Parvati are a bit too much for me, sometimes.
Did you and Padfoot and Moony ever fight, dad? Or mum, did you ever fight with your friends? How did you get over it?
I miss you guys a lot. I wish you could have been here to see me play. I'll give Uncle Moony your love the next time I see him.
Love,
Harriet
Harriet finished the letter and, after letting the ink dry for a moment, she put it an envelope and sealed it. Thankfully, Hedwig was already there, waiting by one of the windows, no doubt guessing that her mistress would want to send her family a letter.
"Straight to mum and dad, if you don't mind," Harriet said politely, knowing that Hedwig could have quite the attitude on her.
Hedwig nipped her finger affectionately and then burst into flight.
Harriet sighed, feeling accomplished.
Then she noticed the loud noise coming from the common room. It seemed that the party had begun. Realizing that she wasn't going to be able to get any rest with the party downstairs (and after so many hours of Quidditch practice, she really wanted to rest) she gave Isaura a rueful grin.
"I better go join them, shouldn't I?"
Isaura hissed her approval and went back to sleep. Harriet shot her snake an envious glare before going downstairs.
She was greeted by a loud round of applause.
"Here she is!" hiccoughed one of the seventh years (apparently the twins had managed to smuggle in some Butterbeer, and Firewhiskey, for the older students). "The woman of the hour! Our heirone- no, heroi- savior!"
Harriet rolled her eyes at him and left him slumped over one of the chairs, in search of Ron, who was surrounded by several other second years, talking excitedly about the game.
"Harriet!" he grinned, pulling her over. She sat down and listened for a few minutes, simply looking around the room.
She waited until their was a pause in the conversation, and then nudged Ron lightly.
"Where's Hermione?"
Ron's face fell. "Oh- I'm sure she'll be here soon."
"She wasn't at the game, she's not here. Where is she?"
Ron pulled Harriet away to a corner, away from the festivities, where they could talk. Ron wasn't thrilled that Harriet had interrupted his celebrations for something so serious, but wouldn't argue with her.
Nobody paid the two of them any mind, assuming that they wanted to celebrate privately. They were close like that.
"She went to the library- but not for homework!" He added hastily. "She seemed really excited about something Hagrid said and rushed off. I think it's something to do with the Chamber."
Harriet nodded, feeling slightly placated. "It's funny that you mentioned Hagrid. I had a dream about him..."
She described her dream with Riddle in detail, trying to remember as much as she could. By the time she was done, Ron was shaking his head firmly.
"No, no, no. Hagrid would never open the Chamber." Ron said definitely. "It's something else. It has to be."
"Well, maybe whatever Hermione's found can..."
Harriet's voice died down in her throat because she had realized that everybody in the room had gone quiet. Harriet turned around and, standing by the entrance to the common room was Professor McGonagall, looking unusually somber for somebody whose's house had just had an important Quidditch victory.
"I must ask that you cease your celebrations," she said softly, in a voice that booked no argument. "And that boys and girls return upstairs to your dorms. There has been another attack. I will be up to speak with you each soon."
As Ron and Harriet turned to leave upstairs, a horrible feeling in their stomachs, McGonagall called them back.
"Not you, Miss Potter. Mr. Weasley," she said beckoning them to come with her. "You two come with me. You will want to see this."
Harriet's mind had already raced through a thousand different scenarios by the time the three of them reached the hospital wing, but none of them were as horrible as the one that greeted her.
Hermione, in a hospital bed, petrified.
Harriet Potter and Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor Common- February 16, 1993
Neither Ron or Harriet said anything for the longest time. Harriet kept trying to quell the awful feeling in her stomach that, despite McGonagall's assurances that a cure would be ready soon, she would never be able to talk to Hermione again, never be able to apologize, and that the last thing they would have said to each other were angry words.
"What do we do now?" Ron asked. Harriet shrugged. McGonagall was upstairs, talking to the girls. She had left Ron and Harriet downstairs for the time being, even getting them some pumpkin juice.
The two cups sat completely full on the table where she had left them, untouched.
"Hagrid," Harriet said after a moment.
Ron looked at her, confused. "What about him?"
"Hermione was talking to Hagrid when she learned something," Harriet said. "And even if my dream wasn't right, if you do the math, Hagrid was still at school when the Chamber was last opened. He might know something. We need to talk him."
"Tonight?" Ron hissed, understanding immediately what Harriet was thinking. "Are you mental? The teachers are on triple alert now. We'll never make it out the door."
Harriet nodded. "I think it's time to bust out my dad's invisibility cloak again."
AN: New chapter! Woo-hoo! Almost done with this story... I mean, no more than three, by my count, maybe only one or two. Who knows? Still, as we near the end, I appreciate any comments on how you think this is all going to end (I already know, more or less, but I always appreciate hearing what y'all think).
See you soon!
tinyrose65