By Christmas, Harry had gotten to know his snake very well. This was mostly because he had been one of very few people who had stayed at the castle, what with the most recent double attack on the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, and a Hufflepuff boy named Justin Finch-Fletchly. Draco had been one other person who had stayed (along with Crabbe and Goyle, of course), but as Draco was very interested in seeing Harry speak to snakes, it amounted to the same thing.

It was female, and although she understood the concept of naming things, she saw no reason to have a name herself.

"You and Anthony will be the only two who will be able to speak to me," she'd reasoned. "And if you are speaking my language, then you are speaking to me."

It made enough sense, so Harry let it be. Draco hadn't, though, and wanted Harry to name her, reasoning that if he didn't tell her, she would never know.

"She'll eventually figure it out, Draco, she's not stupid," Harry protested. "When we make the same sounds whenever she's obviously being talked about, she'll ask questions. And I won't lie to her."

"But she can't not have a name, Harry! What am I to call her? The snake?" He grinned mischievously. "Why don't you just tell her that the name we use means 'the snake?"

"Draco, I told you, I'm not going to lie to her," Harry said insistently. It was Christmas morning. They'd been having this argument on and off for about a week now. Harry ignored Draco's newest argument and reached for a present. It was from Dudley and Uncle Vernon, and it had a rather long letter attached to it. Harry unrolled it and looked it over.

"If anything, all that writing he's been doing has improved his handwriting," he muttered absently, reading it properly now.

"Is that from Dudley?" Draco asked, nudging him. Crabbe and Goyle were still asleep, so Harry had moved all his presents to Draco's bed, with the idea that they could be quieter this way.

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes moving down the page. Dudley was doing well at home, apparently. He and Uncle Vernon had done things together every day since he'd gotten back. Harry frowned. What had happened to writing in that book of his all the time? Dudley sounded happy, nothing like the snappish boy he'd been a few days ago, when Harry had last seen him. Harry continued reading, and reached a section of the letter that was choppy and rushed. He paled as he read it.

"Hey, Harry…" Draco looked up from one of his presents to see Harry staring in horror at the parchment. "Harry? Are you okay? What does it say?"

Harry pointed out the section he was currently reading, and as Draco's eyes flicked over it, they widened and his mouth dropped open.

Apparently, the book Dudley had been writing in all year belonged to someone named Tom Riddle. He had been writing back to Dudley, sympathising with him over his mother's abrupt departure and helping him get over it. Then Dudley started losing his memories, forgetting where he'd been at certain times. He'd found red paint and feathers on his robes at Halloween, and he didn't remember what he'd been doing when Oliver Wood and Justin Finch-Fletchly had been attacked. It had been Justin and Nearly Headless Nick's attack that had really disturbed Dudley, so he'd left the book at Hogwarts and was now asking Harry to please get rid of it for him.

"We knew there was something off about that book," Harry whispered, horrified. "Hermione was going to tell Professor McGonagall about it if he didn't stop writing obsessively by the time break ended. We thought at first that he was just upset, but that could only last so long…"

"Merlin," Draco said, shaking his head. "So your possessed cousin is the Heir of Slytherin?"

Harry glared at him, and Draco raised his hands defensively. "I said possessed, didn't I? No one said Dudley's doing it on purpose. He's muggleborn, isn't he?"

Harry sighed. "He wants me to get the book and get rid of it."

Draco nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. Better than him doing it himself, don't you think?"

"It's in Gryffindor Tower. In his bedside drawer."

Draco blinked. "Could he make it any more difficult? He at least gave you the password, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Can I come along?" Draco asked hopefully. "We can do it during lunch."

Harry smirked at his hands. "You just want to see the inside of Gryffindor Tower."

"I want to see if it's as red as the rumours claim," Draco agreed blithely. "It's for a good cause, isn't it? I couldn't let you go up there all alone."

"Sure, alright," Harry sighed, and looked down at the letter again. "I suppose I'm just glad he told me, then. Hermione will be thrilled that Dudley isn't neurotic."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Was that her newest theory?"

"If the book wasn't the problem, then yes," Harry said with a laugh. He was so glad it was over. No more attacks, no more unnaturally obsessive Dudley. "She looked it up in one of the medical books in the library."

Draco nodded, and glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "It's nearly noon. Want to finish opening our presents, grab your Cloak, and get up to Gryffindor before Vince and Greg wake up?"

"Sure."

After retrieving the book from Gryffindor, Harry and Draco returned to their now empty dorm to figure out what to do next. Draco had wrapped it up in Harry's jumper, having refused to let either of them touch it, and it now sat on Theo's abandoned bed.

"What now?" Harry asked.

"I dunno, destroy it?" Draco asked.

"To destroy it, we'd have to touch it," Harry said reasonably.

"Not necessarily," Draco said, pulling out his wand. "Diffindo!"

A jet of light burst from Draco's wand and hit the book. It immediately rebounded and hit the bedpost, inches from Harry's head, leaving a deep gouge in the wood.

"Holy hell, Draco, watch what you're doing!" he yelled, jerking backward.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Draco exclaimed, shoving his wand in his back pocket and jumping away from the bed.

They both breathed heavily for a moment, staring at the book.

"Let's just put it away somewhere until break ends," Draco suggested in a small voice. "Blaise will know what to do."

Harry nodded emphatically. Blaise would know what to do. They lifted the jumper with the book on it and put it in one of the empty boxes from Draco's presents, jumper and all. Then they closed the box, sealed it magically, and stuffed it under Harry's bed.

"Wait," Harry said after they'd finished. "I don't know if I want that under my bed."

"It's certainly not going under mine," Draco said stubbornly.

Harry thought for a moment. "Does Greg ever look under his bed?"

Draco snorted. "Even if he could see it there, Harry, I doubt he could fit under his bed to get it out."

Harry nodded and shoved the box under Greg's bed instead.

Harry and Draco made a valiant attempt to ignore the book until everyone came back from break. If Greg wondered why they glanced at him more often than usual, well that wasn't important.

It was a relief, then, when everyone came back and they were able to nod reassuringly at Dudley on the platform and drag Pansy, Blaise, and as an afterthought, Hermione, down to the dorm.

"What are we doing?" Hermione asked in bemusement as Harry rifled around under Goyle's bed.

"Dudley isn't neurotic, Hermione!" Harry's voice was slightly muffled by being under the bed. When he finally got a grip on the box and pulled it out, he straightened up and deposited the book on top of his trunk, trying very hard to ignore Theo, who was demanding that someone explain what had attacked his bedpost while he'd been away.

"We have the book he was writing in," Harry explained excitedly. "He sent me a letter telling me all about it. Draco, where did we put that?"

Draco rummaged around in Harry's bedside table and pulled it out after a moment.

"Here it is," he said, handing it to Pansy, who was closest. "Read that part," he said, pointing at the important paragraphs. Blaise and Hermione crowded around her and everything was quiet for a moment, as Theo had given up and gone back to the common room.

"Oh my god," Hermione breathed, covering her mouth with her hand in dismay. "Poor Dudley!"

Pansy's eyes were wide as saucers. "Wow."

Blaise looked up at them worriedly. "You have the book now?"

Draco nodded. "We didn't actually touch it, though. It's in here."

He proceeded to slit open the box and show them all. They crowded around and stared down at the innocuous little book apprehensively.

"It sounds like this Tom Riddle person manipulated him through what he wrote, not any magic on the book," Pansy said carefully.

"We are not writing in it," Blaise said immediately. "We're taking it to Dumbledore."

"That's your solution for everything!" Pansy complained. "We can't always go to Dumbledore, you know. I don't care if you're his favourite."

"This is a situation where we should take it to Dumbledore," Hermione agreed firmly. Draco appeared to be thinking it over.

"You know, Pansy's right, I don't think it would hurt if we wrote in it and asked him a few questions…"

"And what would we ask him?" Blaise asked sarcastically. "'Do you enjoy living in a book? What are your hobbies aside from possessing people and using them to petrify other people? Do you perhaps knit?'"

"Alright, Blaise, we get it," Harry said with a small smile.

"To Dumbledore, then?" Hermione asked.

Blaise picked up the box carefully, and Harry nodded. "To Dumbledore. Someone needs to get Dudley first, though."

"…and that's when they showed it to us, and we found Dudley and brought the book to you."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. They had taken turns telling different parts of the story, beginning with Dudley's explanation of how he'd found it in his Lockhart books, and how he'd spilled ink on it and first found out there was someone in the diary. Then Harry and Hermione had explained their worry over Dudley, Harry had explained the letter, Draco had told about their trip to Gryffindor, and Blaise explained about what had happened in the dorm.

Dumbledore very gently picked up the book and opened it, causing all of them to flinch except for Dudley. "This is indeed a very Dark magical item. Fifty points to each of you for bringing it to me so promptly."

Dudley shifted uncomfortably, and Dumbledore peered down at him through his half moon spectacles.

"Yes, Mr. Dursley, fifty points to you as well. It took a great deal of strength and courage to leave this at Hogwarts and to write that letter to your cousin. You are a credit to your house."

Dudley blushed furiously, and Harry and Hermione grinned at him.

"Now, I am certain that you are all eager to catch up after such a long break," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at them. "Off with you. Except for you, Mr. Dursley, I'd like to ask you a few more questions." At Dudley's worried expression, he added, "I assure you that you are in no trouble. Greater minds than yours have been hoodwinked by the one that dwells in this book."

All five of them had remained outside Dumbledore's office, waiting for Dudley to emerge. When he finally did, Harry jumped up from the floor with Draco and Hermione not far behind him.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, what?" Draco demanded.

"Don't be rude, Draco," Pansy scolded him.

"I'm not being rude, I want to know -"

"I can't tell you if you're all talking," Dudley said, bemused.

"What did he say, Dudley?" Harry asked, and this time they all fell silent, waiting for his answer.

"He asked me a bit about where I'd gotten the book, but all I remember is that it was stuck in with my Lockhart books," Dudley began. He made a face. "Then he asked me how you and me get along, Harry."

"You and I," Hermione corrected automatically. Dudley grinned at her.

"You and I," he repeated. She flushed when Harry gave her a look for interrupting.

"Sorry…"

"No problem," Dudley said easily. The change between now and before break really was astounding. "So I told him that you and I get along pretty well, and he looked happy. He offered me a lemon drop and told me that blood should stick together. Then he mentioned his brother and something about goats…"

They all contemplated this for a moment.

"…did he say anything else?" Blaise asked finally.

"He said I have very good friends, and that I should keep them close too," Dudley said. "And that's about it, really."

"I want to know more about the person in that book," Hermione said thoughtfully. "He said that greater wizards that Dudley had been hoodwinked by him, so he's bound to be some famous Dark wizard, at least. What was his name, Dudley?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said after a moment of thought. "That was what it said on the outside of the book. I just called him Tom. He said he went to school here, if that helps."

"It does," Hermione said, pulling out a piece of parchment and scribbling the name down. "That means I can look him up in the old yearbooks. Thanks, Dudley."

"So the whole Heir of Slytherin thing is over then?" Neville asked hopefully. Hermione nodded.

"It was the book causing it all, and now that it's gone - Dudley, Ron, put that down!" she snapped distractedly. "The problem was the book. The book is gone, so is the problem. Stop it, you two, that's a book, not a Quaffle!"

She snatched the book away from Dudley, who was looking very guilty.

"I'd expect that from Ron, Dudley, but not you," she said severely. Ron pretended to look wounded when she wasn't watching, and Dudley grinned.

"Oy, you two, stop torturing Hermione," Harry said, looking up from his nearly completed Transfiguration essay. Ron rolled his eyes.

"That isn't due 'til Thursday, Harry," he told him. "Why are you doing it now?"

"Because it's Tuesday, I'll be busy tomorrow, and Hermione would kill me if I did everything the day before it was due anyway," Harry explained, smirking. "Merlin knows you don't have much time left."

Ron rolled his eyes again. "Fine," he muttered, and pulled a piece of parchment out of his bag. Hermione saw this and looked relieved. She'd been trying to look up Tom Riddle since Dudley told her his name yesterday, but Ron kept distracting her. She had declared him a terrible influence on Dudley and Neville, a title which he wore proudly. He said she had made them both too uptight.

Harry finished his essay and rolled it up after drying the ink. He leaned back in his chair and noticed Anthony sitting nearby.

"See you later," he said, and Hermione gave him a pleading look. "If you want help, invite Blaise more often," he told her with a laugh as he grabbed his bag and went over to Anthony's table.

"Welcome back," he said as he dropped down in the seat across from his friend. "How was your Christmas?"

"It was interesting," Anthony said. "My Aunt Alice visited. I told her about your teaching me Parseltongue, she's very interested. I'm going to teach her what you teach me."

"Alright," Harry said. "I brought the snake, do you think we can do it in here?"

"I don't see why not," Anthony said. "She'll stay on your wrist, and we're learning. Haven't you named her yet?"

Harry groaned. "Not you too. She doesn't want a name. She says the only people talking to her will be me and you, so it doesn't matter."

Anthony shrugged. "Fair enough. Anyway, I've made a list of words you can teach me. I want to learn a few basic phrases first, so I can communicate with my own snake."

"You bought a snake?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Aunt Alice bought it for me," Anthony explained. "And anyway, the best way of learning a language is to immerse yourself in it. I can't do that at home without a snake."

"Alright, what do you want to learn first?"

He hissed to the snake, and she poked her head out his sleeve.

"Anthony is back!" she told Harry with interest. "Will we be teaching him again?"

"What did she say?" Anthony asked.

"She's happy you're back," Harry translated. "Do you want to learn your name?"

Anthony nodded vigorously. "What is it?"

Harry showed him, and soon, Anthony had made up a list of names he wanted to be able to say too.

"You should teach him how to say food," the snake interrupted at one point. "Names are not as important as food."

Harry translated this, and Anthony shrugged. "I might as well learn the culture as well," he said agreeably.

"What is that!" Harry winced and tried to hide the snake. Too late.

"Is that a creature in my library?" Madam Pince asked shrilly. "Out! Get out now!"

Seconds later, they stood outside the doors to the library, Harry rubbing his head where she'd hit him with a thick book.

"Sorry for getting us kicked out," Harry said. Anthony shrugged.

"We didn't have to do this in there, anyway," he said, starting to walk down the hall. "By the way, did you know that all the Hufflepuffs think I'm the Heir of Slytherin?"

Harry blinked. "But that's over…why?"

"One of them saw us hissing at each other, remember?" Anthony explained. "They've decided you're too obvious. Why is it over?"

Harry told him about what had happened during Christmas break, and how the book was with Dumbledore now.

"He's going to announce it at dinner tonight, I think," Harry finished. "We thought he'd do it at the Welcome Back feast, but maybe he wanted to be sure that it was destroyed first?"

"Possibly," Anthony said. "This is good news, in any case. I can use the library at night again."

"You break into the library at night?" Harry asked incredulously. He'd had no clue that Anthony broke rules, although in retrospect, it probably should have been obvious.

"Only when I can't sleep," Anthony said defensively. "Or when I need to look something up and it can't wait until morning. That woman has no business keeping children from knowledge in a school."

"…So hungry…"

Harry frowned and lifted his wrist to look at his snake.

"Did you say something?" he asked it

"Did you hear that?" Anthony asked suddenly. "I'm not sure what it meant, but I heard a snake."

"…the master has been gone for a long time…"

"There it was again!"

"I said nothing," the snake said. "It is the big snake, behind that wall."

Harry blanched. He stepped over to the wall and placed his ear very gently against it.

"…if there is no master, what to do? ….so hungry…"

"Harry?" Anthony asked. "What's going on? I can only understand a little bit. What's it saying?"

"I smell blood…"

"The snake that was petrifying people," Harry said frantically. "It was under the Heir's control, but now that the book is gone, no one told the snake to go home…"

Anthony's eyes went wide, and they both stared at the wall as the hissing travelled upward.