A/N: Part of this chapter is borrowed directly from CoS, but I chose not to have Riddle's diary show Harry the memory of confronting Hagrid. The Horcrux is smart, and it knows that all of the students have heard about the basilisk. That means that if he shows Harry the memory, Harry would recognize that Hagrid's monster isn't a basilisk. Therefore Riddle will attempt to convince Harry about Hagrid's guilt through words alone. I just wanted to make this clear beforehand, in case any of you wondered why the Diary acts differently here than in canon.
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto
Chapter 15: A Helping Hand
The day after Sirius escaped from Azkaban, the Daily Prophet ran a front-page article warning witches and wizards to stay alert, and contact the Ministry immediately if they should sight him. That morning the Great Hall was a scene of utter chaos, as students received copies of the Daily Prophet from the Owl Post during breakfast. The younger students were very frightened, while many of the older students were morbidly fascinated by the escaped mass murderer. The Prefects had a large job on their hands settling their charges into some semblance of order.
Later, the Heads of the four Houses addressed their students personally, reassuring them that Sirius Black posed no threat to them. They reminded the students of the new security system, which would notify the Headmaster if Black put so much as a toe on the grounds. While that was reassuring to most students, it came as a huge disappointment to one in particular, who actually wanted to see Sirius.
Harry, unlike most of his peers, had read the Daily Prophet article and experienced a profound sense of peace. His godfather was free! Somehow, and Harry strongly suspected that Dumbledore had been involved, Sirius had managed to outwit the Dementors and make his escape! The thought made Harry's heart feel lighter, but he sobered quickly when he realized that his godfather was now the most wanted man in all of Wizarding Britain. Even if he had been innocent, he was now very guilty of escaping from prison.
Hermione was especially worried, because she had done some reading on legal precedents and Azkaban proceedings. If Sirius was recaptured, Hermione told Harry fretfully, they might subject Sirius to the Dementor's Kiss! He had already escaped from Azkaban once, so the Ministry might decide he was too dangerous to keep in prison.
Harry shivered when he heard that, and prayed that wherever Sirius was, he was keeping a sharp eye out for Ministry search parties. Harry promised himself that if they caught Sirius, he would see for himself just how difficult it was to break into Azkaban. He had just got his godfather back from the jaws of death, even if he had yet to meet the man, and he wasn't going to give him up without a fight.
Every time Harry heard someone whispering about Black, he wanted to round on them and deliver a ringing tirade in the style of Mrs. Weasley. But Ron and Hermione made him think better of it – without proof, he would just make people uncomfortable. He might even bring suspicion down on himself, and it wouldn't be of any help to Sirius. The only thing to do was go on about their lives, and hope that Pettigrew would be found before the Ministry caught up to Sirius. Still, the waiting nearly drove Harry insane. He wasn't used to a problem that he couldn't confront head-on.
The plan he eventually decided on was just to wait and see what Dumbledore told him. The Headmaster had promised Harry that he would keep him updated about any developments regarding Sirius, and him escaping from Azkaban certainly qualified in Harry's mind as a "development." As of yet there had been no word from Dumbledore, but Harry resolved to wait patiently for at least another day. If he didn't hear anything by then, he could march into Dumbledore's Office full of righteous fury and demand that they go the Ministry and proclaim Sirius' innocence. Harry didn't think that his idea would work out too well, but that's why he was willing to give Dumbledore the extra day.
In the meantime he threw himself into training, pushing his body harder in an effort to distract himself from the mortal peril facing his godfather, the danger which he was powerless to do anything to lessen.
But Dumbledore came through, as Harry realized the Headmaster had always done for him. The second day after the jailbreak, Professor McGonagall held Harry back after Transfiguration. "The Headmaster wants to see you in his office, Mr. Potter. He didn't tell me what it was about." She shook a finger at him sternly. "Mind you behave yourself like a proper Gryffindor."
Harry nodded fervently. He could only think of one thing that would cause the Headmaster to ask to see him in private. When he was standing in front of the Headmaster's desk, he couldn't even wait for Dumbledore to speak first.
"Where's Sirius?" he blurted out. "Is he safe?"
Dumbledore sighed. "It seems everyone suspects me of complicity in this matter. First the Minister, and now you… it makes me wonder if I'm just a suspicious person. I never thought I was."
Harry fell back a step, dismayed. He had been so sure…
But the Headmaster's sly smile reassured him. "I'm just having a bit of fun, Harry. Yes, Sirius is safe."
Harry gasped in relief. He spluttered at the Headmaster that it wasn't at all funny, but Albus only smiled. "I took the opportunity for a small joke, but now we must be serious." He gave Harry a level gaze. "You do realize, Harry, how irresponsible it is for me to be telling you this? The only reason I am doing so, besides my promise to keep you informed, is that if I were to keep you in the dark, I fear that you would be tempted to take matters into your own hands. In that, you are quite similar to Sirius. And the absolute last thing I need right now is for you to go haring off on a quest to protect your godfather."
Harry looked down at the ground, embarrassed. If Sirius had been out there on his own, Harry wouldn't have thought twice about leaving to find him. With the skills he'd learned from Sarutobi, perhaps he would be able to help Sirius stay out of the Ministry's reach. Dumbledore had seen through him as if he was transparent.
Albus smiled to show that he understood. "I am not faulting your loyalty, Harry. It is an admirable quality, but in this instance it could lead you into an unwise decision. Rest assured, your godfather is free, and as safe as I can make him."
Harry looked up hesitantly, wondering if he was asking too much. "Can I… can I meet him?"
"Of course! He is equally determined to meet you. The only reason he hasn't already is that he came down with a fever while… traveling. He's recovering nicely, and soon he'll be back on his feet. It will take much longer to build up his health to what it once was, but with time I believe he'll better than ever."
"That's great," Harry said. "So you'll let me know when I can meet him?"
"I shall," Dumbledore answered. He waved a hand at Harry imperiously. "Be off with you, callow youth. I have mysteries to ponder and new worlds to discover." As Harry was turning, he saw the Headmaster's sly wink.
Harry was ecstatic as he walked through the halls, and it was only with great difficulty that he kept himself from pumping his fist into the air and shouting triumphantly. Sirius was free, Dumbledore was protecting him, and he would soon be able to meet him! Harry didn't think anything could dampen his good mood.
However, it appeared that not everyone was as happy as Harry that afternoon. His path back to Gryffindor Tower from the Headmaster's Office took him past Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where he found a sizable puddle of water spreading from underneath the door. He could hear hiccupping sobs from within. Harry paused, not wanting to deal with the high-strung ghost, but in the end his conscience wouldn't let him rest until he investigated.
He pushed open the door, stepping gingerly to keep water from splashing into his shoes. Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be found, but from the water welling out of one of the stalls Harry could guess where she was hiding. Her crying stopped momentarily, and the ghost's high-pitched voice rose in anger. "Come to throw something else at me, have you?"
Harry was confused. "Why would I throw something at you, Myrtle? It's just me."
He, Ron, and Hermione had gotten to know Myrtle a little too well while brewing the Polyjuice Potion – a little bit of time with the ghost went a long way.
"Harry?" Myrtle gulped. He approached the stall carefully and opened the door. Myrtle was inside, bawling her eyes out.
"What happened?" Harry asked kindly.
"Someone tossed a book through my head!" Myrtle shrieked. "I was sitting in the U-bend, minding my own business and thinking about death, when it went straight through me. It's over there," she added, pointing to the floor below the sink. "It washed out."
"Whoever it was probably didn't mean to throw it at you," Harry offered. "If they just wanted to flush it away, they probably didn't know you were in the toilet."
"Well, isn't that a great excuse for being so inconsiderate," Myrtle snapped, but she seemed a little less weepy.
Harry's curiosity was piqued, and he went over to the sink to retrieve the soggy book. It had a black cover and was too small and thin to be a textbook.
"Just take it," Myrtle told him in an aggrieved tone. "I can't stand to look at it."
Harry nodded absently, his attention still focused on the book. "I'll do that, Myrtle. Feel better, all right? Filch won't be happy if he has to clean all this up." There was a date on the cover, faded but still legible. Harry opened the book to the first page, where he found a name, written in smudged, black ink: T.M. Riddle.
Harry pocketed the diary and went on his way, hoping to meet up with Ron and Hermione in the common room before dinner.
oOoOo
During dinner Harry showed his friends the diary, and they were equally curious as to who the owner might be. None of them had heard of a T.M. Riddle before, and a diary without anything written in it was quite a mystery. They checked through every page together in the common room, and found nothing. Hermione said that she would look through the library the next day, just as she had when they were searching for information on Pettigrew.
Harry knew that there was no hope for the diary to keep its secrets, not when Hermione was on the case. Still, there was something about the diary that made him want to keep examining it. The name T.M. Riddle tugged at his mind, like a half-forgotten memory or an itch one couldn't keep from scratching. He left his friends in the common room, saying that he felt a little tired and wanted to turn in.
Harry put the diary down on the trunk at the foot of his bed. He stared at it for a while, as if he could somehow learn its secrets if he could only look at it hard enough. But then Harry noticed something extremely odd. The diary had been soaked only hours before. The water from Myrtle's toilet had drenched it completely, smudging Riddle's name almost beyond recognition.
But now, the diary appeared to be dry. And the pages, which should have been water-marked and stiff, were as fresh and clean as if they had just come off the press. Harry came to his feet in astonishment, an idea taking root in his mind. He got out his quill and a small pot of ink, and opened the diary to the first page. He dripped a bit of ink from the end of the quill onto the blank page. It stayed there for a moment, and then disappeared without a trace. Harry shook with excitement.
He wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."
The ink disappeared, and then new words began to form on the page of their own accord.
It is nice to meet you, Harry. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you find my diary?
"Someone tried to throw it away," Harry wrote back. His whole body was tense, almost as if he was about to go through one of Sarutobi's murderous obstacle courses. Whatever this diary was, it possessed powerful magic, and it was self-aware. Harry knew that his most important task would be determining if the diary was good or evil. There was no telling what amount of harm such a powerful artifact could accomplish if it wished.
Sarutobi's litany flashed through his mind. Size up the situation, perform a threat assessment, and deal with the threats in order of importance. Harry hadn't a clue as to what kind of threat this diary might be, but he was not going to take any chances. Until he knew differently, he would approach it as if it were extremely hostile.
I am not surprised, the diary told him. There are many who would not want the secrets which I know to see the light of day. It is fortunate that I wrote them down in a more secure fashion than mere ink.
"Secrets?" Harry wrote. He was trying to probe for information as cautiously as he could – for all he knew the diary could see and hear him, and he didn't want whatever or whoever was communicating with him to know that he suspected it of anything. Sarutobi always said that information was the most important thing – if you had enough information, you could tell allies from enemies, and stay a step ahead of both. "What kind of secrets?"
All kinds of secrets. A Chamber full of them, in fact.
Harry couldn't stifle a gasp. "The Chamber of Secrets? You know about it?"
Of course I do. When I was at Hogwarts fifty years ago, the Chamber was opened. Many students were attacked, and one ended up dying. The culprit was expelled, but never brought to justice. And the monster went free…
Harry thought he would press his luck, while the diary seemed to be in a sharing mood. "Who was it? Who opened the Chamber?"
A man named Rubeus Hagrid. He raised the monster within the very walls of Hogwarts. I discovered his plot by accident, and confronted him. The monster escaped, but the teachers knew he was guilty. They snapped his wand and expelled him, and the attacks stopped. But now I understand that the Chamber has been opened again.
Harry wanted to write back immediately, saying that Hagrid couldn't have done something like that. It was only Sarutobi's lessons in controlling the spread of information that stopped him. He had no idea how the diary knew what it knew. Apparently a student from fifty years ago, the very student who caught Hagrid, had created this diary. He had only the diary's word that this was so, but it certainly made sense in some disturbing ways. Hagrid had never completed his schooling, and he had never told Harry why. There was also the matter of his umbrella – it clearly contained a wand, or part of a wand, and yet Hagrid wasn't allowed to do magic. Could it be, as the diary claimed, that he had been suspected of opening the Chamber of Secrets?
It certainly fit. But Harry had personal experience with the Wizarding World suspecting the wrong people. If Sirius could be imprisoned in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, then Hagrid could have had his wand snapped for a crime of which he was also innocent. Harry trusted Hagrid more than anyone except Ron, Hermione, Sarutobi, and Dumbledore. He most certainly didn't trust this diary, which was being very discreet about how it had been made and what its purpose was.
This was going to be a very delicate process, and Harry was determined not to mess it up. He had spooked Peter Pettigrew before by saying his name carelessly – if this diary had any secrets that it didn't want to bring into the light, Harry didn't want to scare it into silence.
"I know Hagrid," he wrote. "He's the Groundskeeper here. Are you sure he's responsible? The Headmaster seems to trust him."
That didn't stop him from snapping Hagrid's wand and expelling him, the diary wrote back instantly.
"I think I have to sleep on this," Harry wrote, after a long pause. "This is a lot to take in."
That's completely understandable, the diary wrote back to him, the words appearing almost before his own message had finished sinking into the page. Take all the time you need, but it might be best not to tell anyone about me. Hagrid had help before, and there are many people who would not want what I know to come out into the open. You could make yourself a target.
"Thanks for the warning," Harry wrote, and then finished by sending a final, "Good night, Tom," into the diary's hidden depths. The diary's warning was one he fully intended to ignore.
Sorry, diary, Harry thought as he wrapped the book tightly in one of his spare robes. But if the incident with Sirius and Pettigrew taught me anything, it's to trust Dumbledore. First thing after classes tomorrow, we'll see what he has to say about this.
Harry tucked the robe with the diary into the very bottom of his trunk, and used the strongest locking spell he knew. He also placed an alarm spell that he had learned from Sarutobi on his trunk – if anyone besides him even touched the trunk, it would give an ear-splitting shriek loud enough to raise the dead. No one was going to be seeing that diary before he had a chance to show it to Dumbledore.
oOoOo
Harry was tense and jumpy all through classes the next day. He felt like the diary was burning a hole through his robes, and he flinched every time someone so much as looked at him funny. Which, of course, meant that everyone started looking at him funny. But he made it through Potions at last, disregarding the snide comments that Snape made about looking like a constipated troll (and honestly, when had Snape ever seen a constipated troll?).
"I'll see you guys later," Harry whispered to Hermione and Ron as he bolted out of the classroom. "I have to see Dumbledore about something."
They didn't have time to ask him anything further, although Ron shouted at him with annoyance that he was going to be late for training. Harry gave the gargoyle the password and ran up the moving stairs, reaching the Headmaster's Office in record time.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows when Harry barged in. "Harry, what brings you here so soon after our last visit?"
"This, Professor," Harry said, taking the wrapped diary out of his robes. He put it down on the desk, not yet unwrapping it. "I found this diary after someone tried to flush it down a toilet in the bathroom on the third floor. It's enchanted, and it seems to be self-aware. It also made some claims about the Chamber of Secrets, so I wanted to bring it directly to you."
"The Chamber of Secrets? My my, that is curious indeed. Let us see this diary."
Harry unwrapped the diary carefully, putting his spare robes in a corner out of the way. He felt silly for being so on edge, but he couldn't help it. When Dumbledore saw the diary, lying innocently on his desk, he became very still. A shadow passed over his face, and he spoke to Harry without looking at him, his eyes riveted on the book.
"Did this diary say to whom it belonged?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
"Yeah," said Harry, his own voice coming out quieter after the Headmaster's example. "Tom Riddle. Do you know who that is?"
Dumbledore let out his breath, the exhalation sounding more like a hiss. "Yes, Harry, I do. Tom Riddle is the name of a student who attended Hogwarts. That same student went on to be known by another name entirely: Lord Voldemort."
Harry and the diary reacted at the same time. Harry jumped back in surprise, his jaw dropping and his hand snapping to his wand. The diary snapped open, a terrible keening sound rising from its blank pages. It propelled itself toward the door, but Dumbledore's wand was already extended.
There was a terrible booming sound and a loud crash, and the diary was sent flying back through the air. It landed in the fire and began to smoke, the keening sound becoming a full-throated scream. Harry watched in shock, his pounding heart convinced that the danger was not yet gone. Indeed, although the fire burned strongly, the diary showed no signs of burning. The horrible scream stretched on and on, raising the hairs on the back of Harry's neck.
"That's quite enough of that." Dumbledore gestured imperiously with his wand, and the diary once again came flying through the air. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore cleared his desk of all its previous clutter. Then he sent the diary onto the desk, grunting with the effort of imposing his will on the screaming book. As soon as the front and back cover made contact with the desk, thick leather straps materialized from out of nowhere and latched the diary tightly to the wooden surface. Harry realized with awe that he was seeing wordless Transfiguration, magic that responded to no shaping other than the Headmaster's will.
The diary fell silent, though it visibly struggled against its bonds.
When Dumbledore spoke it was with a thoughtful tone, and he addressed Harry as if he was not even paying attention to the Dark artifact still writhing under the leather straps. "I think the school owes you a great debt, Harry," he said. "With this diary before me, it seems clear now why we had such difficulty finding the Heir of Slytherin. We were looking for a person, when we should have been looking for a book."
Harry watched the diary with loathing. "You mean…"
Dumbledore nodded, advancing on the diary with slow, careful steps. "Yes. The original Heir of Slytherin must have been Tom Riddle. Persecuting Muggle-born students is perfectly in character with the boy who was to become Voldemort. And this diary explains why the Chamber only opened now – somehow, someone must have put this diary into the hands of an innocent student. An artifact of this much power can exert its will on the weak-minded, causing them to do its bidding. Some poor soul in this castle must have fallen under Riddle's sway. However, it must have taken tremendous courage and determination to throw the diary away. Tom picked the wrong target…" Dumbledore looked at Harry with a wry smile. "It is a common failing of his."
Harry wasn't about to look away from the cursed diary for a second. "Can you destroy it?"
"That is the question, isn't it?" Dumbledore said, sounding far too unconcerned for Harry's comfort. "It withstood my fire, so it seems likely that we shall have to resort to more drastic measures. I wonder…"
Dumbledore walked over to a perch set a few feet from his desk. Sitting on the top was the Sorting Hat, its tip crooked jauntily to one side. Dumbledore picked up the hat with his left hand.
Harry tried not to look skeptical, but it was difficult. Did Dumbledore think he could destroy Voldemort's diary with a hat?
Dumbledore reached into the hat with his other hand, pulling out a silver sword with a gleaming ruby set in the pommel. Harry's jaw dropped. Now that was more like it!
Dumbledore replaced the Sorting Hat on its perch, and held the sword at arm's length. He peered at it over the bridge of his nose, narrowing one eye and examining it like a horse-buyer in a marketplace.
"This is the sword of Godric Gryffindor," he remarked, extending the sword so that Harry could get a better look. "It is an ancient and powerful object, created by Goblins. It never loses its edge, and only takes in that which makes it stronger. I showed it to your Defence Professor a while back, and he told me he was in love."
Harry grinned – Professor Sarutobi did enjoy a good weapon. He had told his students once that wands could never measure up to a well-crafted katana.
"It was actually Professor Sarutobi who suggested that we improve the sword," Dumbledore went on. "He was intrigued by the sword's ability to incorporate new substances that would make it stronger, and wished to test that power. The basilisk that he killed offered him the perfect chance – with my permission, he soaked the blade in the venom of the dead snake. Now Godric Gryffindor's sword is imbued with the deadliest poison in the world. Professor Sarutobi told me he got the idea from a blade called Kusanagi, a mighty sword of legend in his country. I wonder, if Godric Gryffindor's blade were ever to meet Kusanagi, which would prove victorious?"
Dumbledore shook his head, recalling himself to the present. "But that is neither here nor there. I think it likely that Tom's diary will find this sword considerably more difficult to resist than a fire. Harry, if you would?"
He reversed the sword, handling it surprisingly deftly, and offered the hilt to Harry. Harry was left gaping. "You want me to use the sword?"
"Why not?" Dumbledore asked, grinning. "You've been training with Professor Sarutobi, haven't you? Whereas I have never used a weapon in my life. I'm sure you are more suited to the job."
For a second a shadow passed over Dumbledore's face, and an unreadable expression came into his eyes. "Who knows? Perhaps it will be good practice for the future."
Harry shrugged, and took the sword carefully. "If you say so." He had to admit, the idea of stabbing the diary that once belonged to the Dark Lord certainly appealed to him. He turned to the diary, which increased its struggles as if it sensed his approach.
Harry hefted the sword, which felt strangely comfortable in his hands. "This is for framing Hagrid," he declared, bringing the blade up high with both hands around the hilt. Then he brought it down, point-first, and stabbed the right side of the book with the sword. Ink flowed like a fountain where the blade had pierced the book, and the diary emitted another unearthly scream. Harry wrenched the sword free, bringing it up once again and aiming for the other side of the open book. "This is for killing my parents," he said, his voice tight with suppressed rage. Ink spurted once again, and the rush of black liquid covered both pages and ran over onto the covers, soaking Dumbledore's desk. The scream rose to an unbearable pitch, and then Harry dug deeper, twisting the sword viciously. At last, the scream faded away, and the diary writhed no more. It became shriveled and lifeless, its power gone.
"I can see I'll have to fix my desk," Dumbledore said lightly from behind him. Harry gave a guilty start – he hadn't realized it, but when he stabbed the diary the sword had sunk deeply into Dumbledore's desk.
"Sorry, Professor," he said contritely. He turned and offered the sword back to Dumbledore. It had been covered in ink, but now the blade shone a burnished silver.
Dumbledore waved his hand airily before accepting the sword. "Dear boy, pray don't apologize! I would stab a hundred desks if it meant thwarting Voldemort. I might even sacrifice a cabinet or two!"
Harry laughed sheepishly, the Headmaster's comic expression both reassuring him and calming him down. Dumbledore's usual flippant tone was a welcome bit of normalcy in the wake of an event that had left Harry shaking. By the time Dumbledore had made the sword vanish back into the Sorting Hat, Harry had got himself back to normal.
Dumbledore gave him a kind smile. "Harry, I want to thank you. Your decision to bring this diary directly to me may have saved lives. In light of your tremendous service to the school, I am awarding you 100 House Points for Gryffindor. I will also see about giving you an Award for Special Services to the School. Tom never deserved his, but you certainly do. Not only have you given me the means with which to clear Hagrid's name, but you have also brought the true Heir of Slytherin to justice."
Harry was blushing furiously, and wished Dumbledore would just forget about it. "Um… please don't do that, Professor. I don't need anything like that."
"Regardless, you shall have it." Dumbledore's voice was uncharacteristically stern, though his eyes twinkled. "It is an important rule of teaching that good performance be rewarded. After what you have done, not to recognize your actions would be almost criminal. I will, of course, have to make a small announcement to the school at dinner tonight. They deserve to know that the Heir of Slytherin is no more. I will also have to explain about your House Points… I'm sure Professor Snape, for one, will want to hear a full explanation before accepting that they were rightfully awarded. I know you are not fond of public congratulations, but you shall have to bear the burden one more time."
None of Harry's protests moved the Headmaster in the slightest, and as he left Dumbledore's Office, Harry knew that dinner was going to be extremely embarrassing.
oOoOo
It wasn't as bad as Harry thought it would be… it was much worse. Dumbledore began his announcement with the news that Harry had won Gryffindor one hundred House Points, and the tide of eyes focusing on him made Harry want to hide under the table.
"He has earned every single one of those points," Dumbledore declared, "because he protected this school once again from a plot engendered by Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore raised a hand for silence when the Great Hall erupted in gasps and muttered exclamations. He held up Tom Riddle's diary, shriveled and ink-stained, for everyone to see.
"This diary was left here by Lord Voldemort, who was the true Heir of Slytherin," Dumbledore exclaimed. "Now that the diary has been destroyed, the threat from the Chamber of Secrets is over. I will say it again: the threat of the Chamber is finished. You need no longer fear the Heir, thanks to Mr. Potter's brave action."
Harry, however, was no longer listening, and neither were his friends. At the moment when Dumbledore held up the diary, Ginny had gone absolutely rigid. When Dumbledore said Voldemort's name she was shaking, and then, without warning, she collapsed. Ron, who was sitting next to her, managed to catch her before her face fell into her soup bowl.
Ron stood up, not caring that Dumbledore was in the middle of his speech, and hoisted Ginny onto his back. He tore out of the Great Hall with Harry, Hermione, Neville, Percy and the twins in hot pursuit. The startled eyes of the entire school followed them out, and just before they left Harry heard Dumbledore trying to get the students' attention, allowing the Gryffindors a bit of privacy as they brought Ginny to the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey took charge immediately, quieting Ron who was near senseless with worry. She installed Ginny in a hospital bed and began performing various diagnostic spells, while Ron and the twins hovered around her like red-headed mother hens. Percy shooed them away, telling them to let Madam Pomfrey work, but Harry knew from the worried looks Percy kept sending toward his little sister that he was just as scared as the rest.
It appeared that there was nothing wrong with Ginny, however. "Just a slight shock," Madam Pomfrey assured them. "She'll be up in a minute."
They waited, crowding the room and counting the seconds. Soon enough Ginny opened her eyes, and blushed with shame as she saw all of the worried faces.
"You… didn't have to stay…" she said, looking down at the blankets instead of at them.
"Are you barmy?" Ron demanded. "You're my sister! Our sister," he added quickly as the twins started to object. "What happened to you?"
Ginny kept looking down, as if she were gathering her strength, before raising her head and addressing everyone. "It… it was me. I had the diary… I used to write in it. It spoke to me. Then it- it began to control me. I couldn't stop it." She spoke faster and faster, and when she was finished she hung her head in shame.
The Gryffindors looked at each other in shock. Harry felt terrible – this whole time he'd thought Ginny was shy or just weird, and it turned out she'd been under the sway of Lord Voldemort! He couldn't believe that none of them had noticed anything. Of them all, Ron looked the most horrified. He was closest to Ginny in age, and spent the most time with her. Harry could guess that Ron felt that this was all his fault. Hermione put a quiet hand on his shoulder, but didn't say anything.
Harry looked back at Ginny, and in spite of the gravity of the situation he couldn't help but crack a smile. Ginny also looked as if she expected everyone to blame her for this, but Harry knew that the thought hadn't even crossed their minds. It was likely to be a close match over who felt more guilty: Ginny or Ron. Harry thought he'd better say something before the two Weasleys fell any deeper into a spiral of self-destructive guilt.
"It's not your fault," he said fiercely. Ginny looked up at him in surprise, and blinked at the intensity in his voice. "It's not," he repeated. "That diary was so strong it took all of Dumbledore's magic to kill it. All I did was bring him the diary, and I couldn't have done that if you hadn't thrown it away."
The older Weasleys, Neville, and Hermione looked at Ginny in surprise. "That was you, wasn't it?" Harry asked, although he already knew the answer. "You tried to flush the diary down the toilet!"
Ginny choked back a quiet sob, rubbed her hand across her eyes, and nodded. "Yeah," she said. "It… it wanted me to start hurting people. I was losing control… blacking out… when I realized, I threw it into that bathroom that's always out-of-order."
"You see that?" Harry said triumphantly. "You have absolutely nothing to blame yourself for. You didn't just fight Voldemort, you beat him! For God's sake, you flushed him down a toilet! You should be proud of yourself, because we're all bloody proud of you already!"
The other Weasleys fell over themselves backing Harry up, and Ginny managed a laugh that half turned into a sob. Hermione caught Harry's eye, and gave him a thumbs up and a proud smile. Harry nodded back.
He hadn't said a word to Ginny during the year, when she was struggling with a burden she should never have had to carry alone. He only hoped that his words now weren't too late. He wasn't too worried, however – Ginny had proven herself a hundred times over when she threw the diary away, and once people reassured her that the only person to blame was Lord Voldemort, she would be perfectly fine again.
Ron then increased Harry's respect for him a hundredfold by telling Ginny the story of Peter Pettigrew. He didn't share the details about Harry's family, but he told Ginny that he had been harboring a murderer for years without knowing. If that wasn't his fault, then it certainly wasn't Ginny's fault that she had been momentarily overpowered by the strongest Dark wizard in a century. Ginny was looking much better when Ron finished his story, and Hermione was beaming at him so brightly that Harry suspected it was only the presence of the twins that kept her from enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.
Later on, Dumbledore came to check up on Ginny in the Hospital Wing. He was concerned after seeing her collapse in the Great Hall, but she reassured him that she was feeling much better.
After Dumbledore learned of her role in throwing away the Diary, he immediately took away fifty House Points from Harry and awarded them to Ginny.
"I'd give them to you outright," he said, "but I'm afraid that Professor Snape would have my head. He tells me that if I continue awarding excessive House Points to Gryffindors, he will resign in protest."
Dumbledore pretended to ignore Ron and the twins leaping to their feet with excitement, begging him to award them more points. He left the Hospital Wing quickly, saying that he was sure Ginny would prefer to spend her remaining recovery time with her brothers and fellow Gryffindors.
"Do you remember who gave you the diary?" Hermione asked after a moment.
Ginny thought as hard as she could, but in the end she could only shake her head. "No – I have no idea."
"That's all right," Hermione replied, holding up her hands. "Dumbledore and Harry finished the diary, so we don't need to worry about the Heir. And if you stick with us from now on, no one will be able to try anything like that again. Sound good?"
Ginny looked at Hermione with surprise, and then across at Neville, Ron, and Harry. "You mean it?" she said, a small blush creeping into her cheeks. "I wouldn't… I wouldn't be in the way?"
She was looking mostly at Ron when she said this, probably worried that her brother wouldn't want her tagging along. But Ron only smiled. "You'd better stick with us," he said gruffly, "seeing as you can't even go a whole year without getting yourself into trouble. You're worse than Fred and George!"
"Now, I say-" Fred began, highly affronted.
"-steady on, old chap!" his brother finished. "We're by far the worst Weasleys in the world, and don't you forget it!"
The Hospital Wing filled with laughter, and Harry felt that all was right with the world. Another disaster averted, another of Voldemort's plots de-railed.
Maybe, he thought grimly, maybe we can finish this year in peace.
But with their luck, it wasn't likely.
A/N: Hey everyone! I wanted to see how long I could go updating every day, but unfortunately I have to go out of town for the weekend so I won't be quite as quick with the next one. However, there's a lot to look forward to. Next chapter is the first half of a two-part finale for Year Two, in which all of the plans that Orochimaru has been making so far will be revealed. See you next time!