Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Bloody Hell
Fred and George were still in the midst of the magic word game, but it was growing increasingly harder for both of them. Fred was running out of ways to refer to his wand. In a desperate attempt to prevent himself from slipping up, he decided to name his wand Bernard. Now, whenever George or Lee would take his wand to try to get him to say his magic wand, Fred would just yell, "No! Not Bernard!". The game got harder for George too, because after five days Lee and Fred finally found out what his word was. Which is quill. How Lee and Fred found out was an absolute fluke. George and I had been sitting at a table in the common room working on homework; passing notes and school supplies back and forth. He was working on potions, while I was struggling through herbology when he asked, "Hey, mine broke. Can you pass me yours?"
Now, in most cases, a person would look up to see what he was referring to. But since I was so focused on the very exciting subject of magical plants, A.K.A, the bane of my magical education, I didn't look up. Instead, I just grumbled at him, "What broke?"
"This," he said again, trying to get me to look up. But I was too focused.
"Oh, yeah. Sure", I said as I attempted to read my herbology text. Without any forethought on my part, I push an unused roll of parchment to his side of the table. Parchment can break, right?
"No, Holly". George complained. "Just look at what I'm holding".
I let out an annoyed huff, as I tore my attention away from my least favorite subject, only to see that George was holding a quill in his right hand that had a snapped-off tip. Oh, okay. Everything made sense now. But unfortunately for George, neither of us had noticed Lee had been close enough to watch our whole exchange. "Your word is quill!" He announced, making us aware of his presence. George tensed, and I felt a little guilty. He had been doing so well in this game. Why hadn't I just looked up? "Hey, Fred!" Lee called across the common room. "George's word is quill!".
And that's how Fred and Lee found out George's magical word.
It was Wednesday. Meaning we were back at it; sitting in the room of requirement and scratching our heads as we tried to come up with a way to force a house-elf's freedom without being obvious about it. "I still think our best bet is to use Malfoy's fear of the dark against him", I said, watching as Dobby flicked through one of Lockhart's plagiarized novels he had found in the room. Why? I haven't the foggiest. Though it did make me wonder, could Dobby read? I mean, if he could then great. More power to him. But who taught him? It just didn't seem like a skill wizarding families, like the Malfoys, would think to be valuable to the help.
"But how would we get Malfoy, alone, in a dark room?" Fred asked as he reviewed our notes from the last time we were able to talk with Dobby.
George shrugged as Dobby turned a page in his book. "The prat might show up if he's challenged to a duel. Like the trick he pulled last year on Ron and Harry".
Frowning, I glanced up at the ceiling and pondered it. "Would he fall for it?" I mean, Malfoy's pride often made him stupid. But it wasn't like stupidity itself was a trait of his. "Besides, It's not like any of us are Harry. I doubt we'd be important enough for Malfoy to want to duel us". And that's without pointing out that we were two years ahead in school than Malfoy. Dueling fourth years would be suicidal for a second year.
Fred shrugged. "Maybe we could get Harry involved. Malfoy wouldn't be able to pass up the chase to defeat the great Harry Potter". Fred spoke Harry's full name in sarcasm as Dobby's head snapped up at the sound of Harry's full name. After getting to know Harry quite a bit last school year and over the summer, it was hard for us to see Harry as anything other than our little brother's best friend. His overly polite, a tad shy, and secretly mischievous best friend who had Mum wrapped around his finger.
"That would mean getting Harry involved", George pointed out as Dobby began to look at all three of us with rapture attention. "And Ron, and Hermione".
I chewed on my bottom lip. "We could forge a letter", I suggested. It couldn't be too difficult to mimic Harry's handwriting.
Fred snorted. "What is it with you and letters?"
Before I could answer him, Dobby jumped into the conversation. "You know Harry Potter?" his high-pitched voice was filled with wonder. At three confirming head nods, Dobby looked like he was about to float into the air. "Dobby loves Harry Potter. Many house-elves do", Dobby shared, bouncing a little as he did so. "Things were much worse for house-elves when You-Know-Who was still around".
"Yeah", George said. "He's our little brother's friend. He spends a lot of time at our house when not at school. Maybe you can meet him after you're free".
Dobby squealed, his book forgotten. "And you Weasleys think he would want to help Dobby?"
The hopeful admiration in Dobby's voice was contagious. I think it would've been impossible for any of us to tell him no. "Most definitely", I answered. Even if Harry was only willing to help because Hermione would make him. "Harry's a good kid. He likes helping others".
Dobby nodded his head. He did it with such force that his ears flapped. "Dobby knows! Dobby knows!" He agreed. "When Dobby learned of the master's plan, Dobby was trying to stop Harry Potter returning to school. But other house-elf made it so Dobby couldn't get close". … Other house-elf? Could that be Kreacher? "And… and Harry Potter's Godfather was too close, so Dobby couldn't stop Harry Potter from getting on the train". Yup, we're definitely talking about Sirius and Kreacher right now.
"So…" Fred started slowly. "Is that the plan? Are we going to get the second-years involved?" He was frowning and crossed his arms across his chest. After all, keeping our family away from the Chamber of Secrets was one of our goals.
Reading the room, Dobby's ears deflated. "I don't think it would be too dangerous", reasoned George. He didn't notice when Dobby's ears drooped further at the word 'dangerous'. "We don't have to tell them about the diary. Just that we're trying to rescue a house-elf".
"Hermione would be thrilled", I added just to fill the silence as we worked through this… moral dilemma? I guess it could be considered as such.
"Dangerous", Dobby repeated the word. "Dobby does not want Harry Potter to be in danger", he mumbled to himself.
But we were too focused on forming a plan to really hear him. "Once they're in, it might be hard to get them to stop", Fred warned. "And what if they do learn about the diary? How would we explain that?"
All valid points. Any answer we could give them (even if we lied) would just lead to more questions. Ones that wouldn't be easy to answer because we had no reason to know about the diary, Tom Riddle, or why it needed to be destroyed in a certain… manner.
Tentatively, Dobby brushed his long fingers against the page of his book. "Dobby does not want his Weasleys to be in danger", he continued to mumble.
Except this time, we heard him. "Don't worry about us", George said. "We signed up for this nonsense". It was a nice pause; reassuring Dobby as we tried to figure out if we should get help from our little brother and his friends.
"Yeah", Fred agreed. He looked kindly in Dobby's direction, but his expression was still bothered. It didn't sit well with any of us that we might have to drag Ron into this mess. "Someone had to intercept the diary. Otherwise we'd all be fearing for our lives".
Dobby flinched at his words, so I was quick to add. "Better us than Harry, right?" I asked. Dobby didn't seem convinced. "I mean, we're older and know more magic than he does".
"Not to mention that we got the diary before any idiot could use it", George added, ignoring the fact that he had unintentionally just called our little sister an idiot.
"We're the best choices really", Fred continued. "Even if we don't know what we're doing".
Dobby's bottom lip started to quiver. Damn. We're really bad at comforting others. I guess that explains why Ron and Ginny both prefer seeking out Percy, Charlie, or Bill for security over us… Maybe that's something we should explore. After all, Percy would be graduating next year. Meaning that eventually, us triplets will be the only older sibling support Ron and Ginny will have while at school. "We know more than most students", I shrugged, trying to play off Fred's comment as not alarming at all. And it was a true enough statement. I'm pretty sure that we're currently the only students who know about Horcruxes. Well… Adrian does too. But he doesn't know about the dairy or the basilisk!
"We'll figure it out", George said. This time speaking directly to Dobby. "We always do. Promise. But for now, should we get Harry and the others to help us?"
The debate went on and on for a while longer. But we never got closer to an answer. We kept getting pulled between our gut instinct to not put our little brother in harm's way and our need for help. Finally, our Wednesday meeting ended when Dobby got summoned. "Dobby is sorry", he said. "Dobby will come again next week", he promised before snapping his fingers and disapparating. He took the book he was reading with him.
Except Dobby didn't show up next Wednesday. Or the Wednesday after that. Fred, George, and I became more and more nervous as Halloween approached. What happened? Had Malfoy Sr. figured out something was underfoot. Was Dobby hurt? But with no way to get answers, we had to continue our lives as normal. It's not like we could do anything to free Dobby without Dobby being there. Even if we could decide on a plan.
Maybe it was a good thing Fred and George got saddled with an increased amount of quidditch practice. Fred and George weren't the only ones saddled with an increased amount of quidditch practice. Adrian was in the same boat. Since the Slytherin V. Gryffindor game was just around the corner. But it meant I was spending a lot of time alone; worrying about Dobby and our lack of a plan without Fred or George telling me to knock it off. With my fellow triplets, friends, and boyfriend all being occupied by quidditch, the only people I could distract myself with were my other siblings and Hermione. I'd have small conversations with Ginny and her friends. But they're eleven, so it gets boring pretty fast. Even if the Carrow sisters are willing to share embarrassing childhood tales about Adrian.
Percy is always an option since he took his role as our big brother very seriously. Or, he took his role very seriously when Fred and George weren't around. But spending time with Percy meant participating in a Percy-approved activity under his slightly overbearing supervision. Otherwise known as studying and finishing homework. It also meant listening to many stories about why he's so lucky to be dating Clearwater. Almost as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than me. I could only handle it in small doses, so I only spent time with Percy if I had school work that needed to be done.
Ron and Hermione were more open to doing things with me since Harry had quidditch practice as well. And by doing things, I mean Ron would kick my butt in chess while we tuned out Hermione as she gave us updates on her house-elf liberation campaign. Apparently, Longbottom was fully on board and ready to help out any way he could. Although, I thought it was more likely that Longbottom just didn't know how to say no to a girl. Specifically, the one who made sure he survived most potions classes.
That is all I can really say about how I spent my time in the days leading up to Halloween. I did homework, lost at chess, tried to spend time with Adrian during class, and waited every Wednesday for Dobby to show up. Other than Harry getting invited to nearly headless Nick's deathday party, nothing noteworthy happened. Fred, George, and I weren't monitoring the golden trio like we had last year. With the diary in our possession, there wasn't a real need to do so. Since the chamber of secrets wouldn't be opening this year, we didn't need to track the order of events as Jessie remembered them, especially since those memories were no longer completely accurate. It should be a pleasant Halloween for the golden trio (Deathday party aside). Hopefully the first of more to come.
This year Halloween was on a Saturday. A small blessing for both students and teachers, because it meant that they didn't have to struggle to maintain order in their classes and we got to spend the whole day celebrating the holiday. Some students wandered down to Hagrid's hut to carve pumpkins. Some were holding tests of courage in unused parts of the castle. Many were setting off dung bombs in the corridors and ultimately ruining Filch's day. A lot of rules were broken, but in light of the holiday, most members of the staff were okay with looking the other way as long as no one got hurt. I still spent a lot of the day alone, since Wood decided a holiday wasn't a good enough reason to miss quidditch practice. But Fred, George, and I had every intention to enjoy the Halloween feast together. So, when dinner time rolled around I headed down to the great hall without any worries. If I remember correctly, I think this is the year that Dumbledore hires a troupe of dancing skeletons to perform. That should be fun.
And I was right. When I stepped into the great hall, the feast was already underway. The lighting had been dimmed to a spooky glow for the event. Live bats were fluttering around the floating candle. I spotted Fred and George already seated at Gryffindor table and made my way over to them. Fred was halfway through a butterbeer float. And George had chocolate pudding smeared around his lips as he slurped a gummy snake into his mouth. "Did you save any for me?" I jokingly asked as I squeezed in between them.
"Hunger waits for no man, Holls", Fred retorted, but he wasted no time as he handed me a platter of pumpkin pasties.
I loaded my plate with every sweet thing I could get my hands on but added a plain apple just so I could give myself the illusion I was making healthy choices. "How was practice?" I asked once I was satisfied with my dinner plate.
"Wood's a monster", was George's immediate response as he talked around a mouthful of candy. "He had us flying even though it was raining and starting to thunder".
"We're lucky no one got hit by lightning", Fred added with a groan. But he didn't stay focused on quidditch for very long. "Hey, George. Can you pass me one of those sugar…" He trailed off as he rested a fist against his chin as if he was trying to think the right word. I snorted and busied myself with some sort of tart. "Um, sugar… sugar… what are they called?" Fred asked as he gestured towards a jar filled with sugar quills.
Knowing exactly what Fred was doing, George just pushed the jar closer to Fred without answering him. I don't think Fred was surprised that his plan didn't work because he took his requested treat without any attitude.
The dancing skeletons made an appearance about halfway through the feast. They started with a tap dance on the teacher's dais. But it wasn't long until they were waltzing down the aisles between the tables. It was a great feast made even better by the fact that it wasn't interrupted by a mountain troll.
We left the Great Hall with the rest of the student body; feeling stuffed to the brim. Thank Merlin it was Saturday. Because that meant we had all Sunday to stay in bed and recover from our gluttony. Fred, George, and I were moving slowly as we headed for Gryffindor Tower. Maybe I will bunk with them tonight. Once I laid down, I knew that I wouldn't want to move again. But if I had a nightmare, I know I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without Fred and George. So, I should just plan ahead and stay with my brothers. But all thoughts of sleeping and the feeling of overeating were swept out of my consciousness when the flow of traffic came to a halt. Everyone started whispering to each other, gossiping about what could be the cause. "We are close to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom", I heard one sixth-year mumble. "Think she flooded it again?"
That comment had me nervously glancing at Fred and George. There's no way… But receiving similar looks from them had us pushing and shoving until we managed to make it to the front of the traffic jam. At the center of all of this with students from all houses and years surrounding them are Ron, Harry, Hermione, Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail, and a message spelled out in blood.
"No", I whispered as my brain shut down due to an overload of intense thoughts and feelings. This shouldn't be happening. This shouldn't be possible. We had the diary. No one had been writing in it. This shouldn't be possible.
Malfoy and crew managed to push themselves to the front from a different angle. Crabbe and Goyle stared at the scene with lost expressions on their pudgy faces, but Malfoy was a lot faster at making deductions. "The Chamber of Secrets has now been opened. Enemies of the heir beware", Malfoy read the bloody message aloud. Just hearing it spoken caused my heart to skip a beat. Of course, I knew the line by heart. What Harry Potter fan didn't? But I didn't have any intention of hearing those words in this life. Why would I when we have possession of the diary? Just like he had done in the movie that Jessie remembers, Malfoy turns his attention to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as he addresses the student body as a whole. "You'll be next, mudbloods".
"Holly", George whispered as he nudged me with his arm. "What do we do?"
"How is this happening?" Fred asked, also in a whisper.
It took a couple of seconds to get my vocal cords to work. "I don't- I don't know". I answered honestly; unable to turn my eyes away from the golden trio. It bugged me that Ron was standing in the center of all this. A part of me wanted to rush forward and pull him away from his friends and hide him behind Fred and George. But another part of me was frozen in place. My mind was spinning, trying to restart itself to return to regular functioning capability. But none of that mattered. Not when I was stuck watching an event play out that I had seen many times before from behind a screen. with no clue how it had occurred in the first place.
"Out of my way! Out of my way!" I heard the familiar screech of Filch as he pushed students aside. He walked with his head down, only looking up after he had broken through the wall that was Malfoy and his goons. Filch paused as he took in the terrified expressions of the golden trio, the blood graffitiing the wall, and his precious cat hanging off a torch bracket. "You murdered my cat", Filch stated with a smack of his quivering lips.
"No", Harry tried to interject.
"You murdered my cat!" Filch repeated with more emotion as his voice shook; hands balled into fists and trembling at his sides. "I'll kill you!" Filch exclaimed, taking a menacing step towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"No", Harry tried again as he and the rest of the golden trio took a step back; their footsteps louder than normal because of all the water on the ground.
"I'll kill you!" Filch yelled again, This time with his left fist raised in the air like a villain from Scooby-Doo.
"Argus", A new voice broke in through the sea of students and Filch's threats. "Argus", Dumbledore repeated as he appeared. Everyone, including the grieving Filch, fell silent as Dumbledore's eyes took in the scene before. His body didn't tense, he didn't gasp or make any sound of surprise or fear. Instead, his eyes hardened behind his half-moon spectacles as he studied the writing on the wall. That, more than anything else, got my wheels turning again. Why did Dumbledore look so… so calculating? Now? In this moment when danger decided to rear its ugly head once more? This was turning out to be a puzzle. One that I didn't have all the pieces to solve. "Everyone", Dumbledore said after a moment in a common voice that demanded attention and compliance. "Will proceed to their dormitories. Everyone, except you three", he said, gesturing to the golden trio.
At once there was a surge of activity as prefects rounded up their house members, and everyone moved to obey. Not surprising. I wouldn't want to be standing in front of a haunting message for long periods of time either. George grabbed my hand and started pulling me in the direction of Gryffindor tower when he and Fred were ready to move faster than I was. "Wait", I said as I stumbled a little. "Maybe we should try to help Ron first", I said. But I'm not sure why. I knew Ron would be okay. They knew Ron would be okay. It wasn't like he was a parseltongue or anything. It wasn't like he could hear a voice coming from the plumbing. But I needed more time. More time to think; to panic before having to buckle down and figuring out what went wrong.
But Fred and George still had their heads. At least they were still thinking. "We need to check on the diary", Fred said from behind me as George led the way. "We need to be ready for the worst".
"At least until we figure out how this happened", George added as we started up a flight of stairs.
"Just in case", Fred continued, voice wary. "Do you both have your wands on you?" He asked. But before either of us could answer him he said, "Ah, hell". George had just won the magical word game.
As soon as we made it through the Fat Lady's portrait, we rushed past our fellow Gryffindors and dashed up the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories. "When was the last time we looked at the diary?" George asked; racing into their room. Luckily, none of their roommates were back yet.
"Um", I started. Stuttering because my nerves were frayed. "W-Wednesday", I answered. "We last saw the diary when we took it to the room or requirement".
"And we're sure that we brought it back with us?" Fred asked as he dropped down in front of his trunk, and threw open the trunk's lid. It smacked against his four-poster bed with a resounding bang.
"Of course", I answered; completely sure that we wouldn't have been that careless with a dark and dangerous magical object. Until I wasn't. "I think", I amended.
George had taken to pacing the length of the dorm room as Fred digs through the contents of his trunk. "No, no", he muttered. "We definitely brought it back. I was the one carrying it. I was the one who put it back in Fred's trunk". That made me feel a little better But not enough that I couldn't stop freaking out. We screwed up. We screwed up big. And the worst part was that we didn't even know how we had screwed up. Bloody hell, if people got hurt or died because the chamber reopened that would be on us.
"Got it!" Fred exclaimed as he tossed a stray sock aside before pulling out the diary, still disguised by a Magical Me cover. The three of us simultaneously exhaled, and my muscles lost some of the tension they were holding. "It's still here", He said, holding up the diary for all of us to see.
But our relief didn't last long. It lasts only long enough for us to ask more questions. "But that doesn't make any sense". I said, hating myself for having to state it "If we have the diary then no one's been possessed, so who could have opened the chamber?"
We fell into silence, each of us studying each other; hoping that one of us had the answer. "Do you think Malfoy Sr. gave us a fake?" George asked.
"No", Fred said at the same time that I shook my head. "That doesn't work out. He didn't know we knew about the diary or Horcruxes or about the chamber of secrets. Besides, what would be the point of giving us a fake diary? Even if he was going to use someone else other than Ginny to unlock Slytherin's monster".
I moved closer to Fred and took the disguised diary from him. I needed to touch it, which is something I never thought I'd feel about a Horcrux. But I need to assure myself that it was here, that we hadn't lost it. "Maybe", Fred said, making it his turn to share a theory "Maybe someone has been taking it from my trunk, using it, and putting it back before we could notice."
This time George shakes his head. "No, we still have the intruder spell in place. If anyone other than the three of us tried to open your trunk we would have known". As I held the diary in my hands, I couldn't help but think that it felt off. Like it felt… heavier. My eyes widened as a scary thought… a scarier thought entered my mind. Did souls have mass? If the diary was slowly possessing someone, did its increased weight means there was someone's life force being held prisoner in the diary's pages? Other than Tom Riddle, I mean.
Fred ruffled his hair in agitation. "The only other reason I can think of", he started to say before pausing, as if his thought was just too terrible to voice. I was listening, but my thoughts were pulling my attention in a different direction. Slowly, not wanting to but knowing that I must, I opened the diary to a random page.
George continued Fred's line of thought without any prompting. "Is that one of us must have written in the diary. One of us opened the chamber".
But that didn't make any sense either. All of us had been together during the Halloween feast. None of us had even gotten up to use the bathroom. We had been together the whole time. I focused my eyes on the page I had randomly opened, and the sight gave me a start. Meanwhile, Fred and George continued to discuss the possibility of one of us being possessed. "It couldn't have been you or me", Fred said to George. "We're hardly ever apart". There were words on this page. And not handwritten words. Words that were printed, that were typed. There were even page numbers in the corners.
"That only leaves…" George trailed off. I looked up from what I was not convinced was not the diary, after all, to see my fellow triplets staring at me.
"It's not me!" I said quickly, catching up with their train of thought.
"That's exactly what a person possessed by You-Know-Who would say", Fred countered.
"And you have been spending a lot of time by yourself since we became busy with quidditch practice", George said in a more careful voice than Fred.
"What? No!" I said forcefully, as I held up the book for them to see the page I was looking at. "Guys look at this. I don't think it's the diary. I think it got switched somehow", I explained as I started to take off the Magical Me book cover. Underneath it was not the leather of the diary but, the embossed title Magical Me. Someone… somehow the diary was switched with the book it had been impersonating.
Fred snatched the book from me and started turning it over in his hands, studying it from all angles. George and I watched him, anxiously waiting for his diagnosis. Both of us probably wanted him to include that it was not the diary and I wasn't possessed. Fred turned the book over in his hands three times. He flicked through its pages and even went as far as smelling it. As if he knew the different scents of an evil diary and a regular book. Until he finally stated, "This isn't the diary".
Silence engulfed us once more as we panickedly tried to figure out what happened. But nothing became clear. We had been so careful. We had lost sleep making sure no one could take the cursed thing from us. We jerry-rigged Fred's trunk to keep it as secure as possible. How did it get taken? How did we lose it? After a moment of not coming up with any answers, George said, "Bloody hell, this is a mess".