"And Professor Dipshit couldn't even be bothered with a real investigation!" Hermione spat as she paced the length of the empty third floor corridor.
"Professor Dipshit?" Ron snorted. "Shall we give her points for creativity?"
Harry groaned at this, perhaps noting Hermione's clearly agitated state. She did not like the way he was looking at her.
"My point," Hermione steadied breath and tried to keep her voice even-though she imagined the permanent squeak given to her would make the cracks less easy to pick out. "Is that Hagrid nursed a creature back to health that shouldn't have the ability to petrify. But he's a half-giant, so if he coincidentally had any creature in his care during the time, the powers that be would never have lifted a finger to help him!"
Harry knit his eyebrows in confusion and his mouth hung slightly open. "Hagrid's a h-half-giant? Giants exist?"
Hermione stopped her pacing to find both Harry and Ron staring at her aghast by the revelation.
"I suppose that makes sense," Ron mused. "I guess I just thought he was a big bloke."
"But if he's a half-giant that means-" Harry trailed off. "Do wizards and giants marry?"
"Why would anyone want to?" Ron grimaced. "Giants are stupid, violent and-"
"Thank you for demonstrating the masses' out-dated opinions on giants, Ron," Hermione said coolly. "I'm sure Harry found the attack on half of Hagrid's heritage very informative."
"I wasn't saying Hagrid was," Ron groaned. "Just full giants."
"Ho ho!" she hissed. "I wasn't expecting to speak to an expert on 'full-giants', any other finer points in your ethnography you'd like to give, Professor?"
"You know what, Hermione?" Ron narrowed his eyes and spoke through gritted teeth. "You sound just like your father!"
Hermione bit her lip and stared at Ron feeling his hate for both her and her father wash over her. Her stomach churned under his gaze, at that moment she thought she'd disgusted him. Her throat tightened and she dug her nails into her hand trying to get a sense for the world around her. Was she really like her father? This wasn't the first time someone accused her of sounding like him. But Severus Snape was bitter, and cruel, and vindictive and-what if she was like him? Was she as-no! She couldn't-was it bad she thought so little of the man who raised her? But I'm pretty sure he used Legillimency on me...I thought he wanted to regain my trust...
"Erm," Harry said. "Hermione? Are you still with us?"
Hagrid and the fucking chamber, you stupid piece of shit! "Right," she said wiping her eyes beneath her hair. "Sorry! So, erm, I think we need to figure out how the Slytherin prefect knew about Hargid's creature. If little mister perfect, as Ron calls him, was tipped off, we know who framed Hagrid. I know if I were controlling a monster to attack students, I'd try to frame the student keeping a monster for a pet. Even better if their chances of getting an actual investigation are non-existent."
"So," Harry mused. "If we asked him who tipped him off, we can use their last name to suss out who opened it this time!"
"Assuming he's telling the truth," Hermione nodded. "Yes."
"Great!" Ron leapt up. "Let's go ask the diary now!"
Hermione looked at her watch before ringing her hands. "I can't," she sighed. "If I skive anymore classes and it'll be obvious I'm up to something. In fact, if you two skive right now someone is going to wonder what you're up to."
"But this is important!" Ron groaned. "I'm sure we can-"
"Give the teachers a fucking reason to question our whereabouts? Sure, why the hell not?!" Hermione hissed.
"Can I finish a bloody sentence without you sneering at me?" Ron yelled.
"Can you finish a sentence?" Hermione cried. "Are you fu-"
"Both of you drop it!" Harry seethed. "Does everything have to be a row? We have more important things to worry about right now. And I happen to agree with Hermione."
"Oh, fine," Ron groaned. "But you have really got to work on your rage issues, Hermione."
Work on rage issues? Her? Ron was the one always a percieved insult away from a tantrum and Hermione spent years of her life keeping quiet and doing everything she was supposed to. How fucking dare he? Hermione didn't have rage issues, she barely even got angry-that's not true though, is it? And I did kind of blow up at him, but...maybe I am like my father...
"Hi, Hermione!" Luna skipped up to her and hugged her.
Bewildered, Hermione hugged her back. "Hi, Luna," she said softly.
Luna separated beaming at her, a refreshing gleam in her silver eyes. Hermione didn't know how she could be so happy but like she let the mood wash over her. Someone was glad to see her.
"Are you okay?" Luna blinked and her smile faded.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione forced a laugh and shrugged. "How about you?"
"Oh, I'm alright," her vague smile returned. "Lockhart's a bit of a joke though, isn't he?"
"Mm-hmm," Hermione nodded. "Not looking forward to his class. Is he still on about the protest being a conspiracy against him?"
Luna gave a hardy laugh at this before smirking and poking her in the forehead. "Of course he is, the git. But seriously, are you okay?"
"Luna," Hermione sighed. "I said I was fine."
"Okay," she sighed herself, not looking quite convinced. "Hey, did you want to meet after classes?"
"Erm," Hermione clasped her hands together and bit her lip.
Luna smiled once more at the idea, sunlight dancing across her silver eyes and dirty-blond hair from the window. She looked so excited at the idea of meeting with her. Hermione didn't understand why she was so hopeful. She hated to say no to Luna, to disappoint her, but she had to help Harry and Ron. Even if she didn't, how long before Hermione screwed things up with her? Luna never asked for anything but her time...Hermione didn't deserve a friend like that. If she was like her father, she would just hurt Luna.
"S-sorry, Luna," Hermione sighed. "I promised Harry and Ron I would help them with their homework. Sorry."
"You already apologized, silly," Luna laughed. "Anyway, I should get to Charms. Just tune out like the first half-hour of Lockhart's lecture."
"Will do," Hermione said.
Luna walked away without the signature skip in her step and Hermione told herself questioning the journal and Hagrid was for the better. It was stupid to feel guilty for wanting to help people. She told herself it was even stupider to wish she was spending her time with Luna instead.
The mandrakes were finally ready for Severus to use in the reverse-petrification potion. He carefully stripped and cut the gnarled limb-like roots into vertical sections and collected the fluids, ensuring every last drop was accounted for. The potion was an especially fickle one, and he had to ensure each element was precisely prepared. He could do that much at least.
He worked by torchlight in the quiet still room. What time was it? Late, he knew that. He waved his wand, urging the silvery fluid into crystal phials. He eyed each one, ensuring only thirty millilitres sat in each one. He then set to stewing the roots, prodding them with his wand until the water was a smooth medium brown...the same shade as his daughter's eyes.
Done with the work for the night all he could do was think. And his thoughts turned quickly to Hermione. Not long ago, she was in this very room with him, helping him prepare ingredients and telling him about something she'd read, or exchanging jokes with him.
"And that is why I don't eat meat," Hermione scoffed, poking the dissected goat heart.
"I don't believe goat heart is typically on the menu," he mused setting his hand on her head. "You're thinking of sheep."
Hermione giggled at this. "Have to use every part or we can't call ourselves British anymore."
"I do believe that's a Welsh stereotype, love," he said.
"I don't think so!" Hermione asserted. "It's definitely a Scottish stereotype. The Welsh stereotype-"
"You little know-it-all," he laughed.
"Maybe," Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. "But I'm your little know-it-all."
"Always," he kissed her forehead.
And for every memory like that he could dredge up, he could find a more unpleasant one. For all his admonishments that life wasn't fair, he knew he had fucked up. Hermione, for his attempt to convince her otherwise, wasn't his biological daughter. He adopted her. He chose to raise her. It was an impulse decision to be sure, but it was still a choice. He knew he was raised by monsters and that he had no idea what healthy parent-child relationships looked like.
He thought back to Hermione curling her tiny hand around his finger, her large brown eyes staring up at him with complete trust and the faintest ghost of a smile across her little face. He remembered how his heart swelled at the gesture, the warmth sent through his body, the sudden and intense urge to protect her from every conceivable threat. He'd once again experienced love at first-perhaps, second- sight, but it was entirely different.
"It's alright, love," he cooed. "Daddy's got you."
He honestly thought he could do right by her then. Now, he didn't regret his decision to adopt Hermione, though, perhaps, he thought he should. She was the light of his life, as horribly hokey as it sounded, and he repaid her with secrets, lies and repeated invasions. He wanted to be better for her, he was trying to be better for her. So why couldn't he?
He wanted what every parent wanted: for Hermione to be safe, healthy and happy. Sheer stubbornness and her unfathomable desire to throw herself head first into dangerous situations meant he had to prioritize the first two. He never could figure out how to give her all three. He made a million mistakes and he was going to make a million more. But if she would just listen to him then-You're making excuses.
He scowled at the sorted phials and simmering cauldron. There was no more he could do for the time being. He supposed he could reorder the stores for the third time that night. He took the still room apart and put it back together again as he sifted through thousands of memories, the good and the bad.
"Gone?" Hermione squeaked. "I thought you were carrying it on you?"
"I couldn't risk someone else finding it," Harry whispered. "No one else knew about it though!"
"You should see the dormitory," Ron nodded. "Whoever stole the diary, he went mental looking for it! Opening the mattress and everything!"
So, they went into the dormitory to steal it back...Hermione knew three things as soon as Ron said that. One, the student who took it had to be in Gryffindor, or else know the password, which was unlikely. Two, the thief did not have to be a boy like Ron assumed. And three, Ginny saw the diary on Valentines Day in Harry's possession. She'd suspected it before but now..."I'm a fucking idiot!" Hermione slapped her forehead. "I just-I need to be absolutely certain. Give me a bit, I'll be back!"
"Hermione, wait!" Ron called.
But Hermione was already on her way to the girls' first years' dormitory. She felt weird sneaking into the dormitory and slinking up to Ginny's bed, but she didn't want to risk waking Ginny's roommate. She rehearsed the sentence in her head as she drew the curtain back and whispered her name.
Ginny was wide awake, sitting crossed-legged on the bed in a pink dressing down, her wand lit. She turned to face Hermione, purple rings under her brown eyes, red hair disheveled, and her freckled face was not simply pale, but sallow, and thinner than last Hermione had spoke to her for more than five seconds.
"Hermione?" she whispered.
"Ginny," Hermione inhaled sharply. "I-erm-I know. I know you took the diary back from Harry. And I know about Tom."
Ginny's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. She scanned the room to before taking Hermione's arm. "Hermione, I-I've wanted to tell you for so long! I didn't know how!"
"It's okay, Ginny," Hermione soothed her back at a loss. "We can fix this, I promise. Come down, we'll tell Harry and Ron-"
Ginny furiously shook her head sending her flaming locks everywhere. "I'm not ready to tell them. Please, please be patient with me, Hermione."
Hermione bit her lip and clasped her hands. Ginny seemed so scared, and she didn't want to force her to do anything, but she couldn't let anyone else get hurt. If the Tom character from the diary could give them the answers they needed, then Hermione had to do something. She thought for a moment before Ginny flung her arms about her.
"I just knew you'd understand!" she cried. "You're a good person, Hermione."
Hermione ceased up and a dry lump formed in her throat. A good person, that filled her with relief and hope, but also guilt and disappointment, because she knew she could never live up to that. Not when she so often resorted to manipulating others for information, or relished in insulting people-even if it was followed by a wave of guilt.
"You've already figured it out. You really are clever," Ginny stood up and offered her hand. "Come with me and I'll tell you everything."
"Harry and Ron are downstairs waiting for me," Hermione whispered. "But you can give me the diary. No one has to know it was you."
"Okay," Ginny took her hands pulled her up, after taking a deep breath. "I'll do it. I trust you."
Hermione lead Ginny down the dark spiral stair case. The two were barely passed the landing when Hermione felt two hands shove her from behind. She lot her footing and tumbled down the stairs feeling each stone edge slam into her as she fell. The wind left her lungs. She tried to grab the wall, but her arm bent backwards sending a sharp pain through it punctuated by a loud snap. The tower spun out of control and her head slammed against the stone floor when she finally landing.
"Hermione!" three voices cried at once.
A blurry Ginny on a spinning stair case ran to her gasping for air. "She fainted on the stairs!" she cried.
Then everything went black.
"Are you absolutely certain?" Severus asked slowly.
A harried Pomfrey set down the pile of blankets on a nearby empty bed. The hospital wing was empty save for the petrification victims. "Yes, I'm absolutely certain," she groaned. "I haven't seen her since two days ago."
Not the hospital then, he thought. She didn't show up to any of her classes, any meals nor did he find her in the library. He thought her not being in the hospital might provide some relief, at least she wasn't petrified-but she could very well have been, or worse. He thought about the chance that she had been avoiding him, it wouldn't be the first time, but it didn't explain why she would skip all of her classes and not attend a single meal that day.
"Let me know if that changes," he said.
It was after seven and he wondered if any of her friends would be milling about the castle. Something he wished he'd thought of sooner. Like the idiot he was, he assumed she had been avoiding him at first, and focused on the reverse-petrification potion between his classes and meals. It was only after Hermione failed to show up to supper that he'd thought there might be something wrong. And instead of asking her friends as they filed out of the Great Hall, he'd checked her regular haunts. She could have spent the entire day in the common room, but it would be out of character for her.
"Hi, Harry!" Lovegood's voice called from around a corner.
He rounded the corridor to find Potter and Weasley stop muttering to themselves to acknowledge the girl.
"Hi, Luna," Potter said. "Look, we're kind of-wait, you and Hermione are friends, right?"
"I like to think so," Lovegood said in an uncharacteristically cold voice.
"And in the same year as my little sister?" Weasley asked quickly. "Have you seen her? Either of them, actually?"
Lovegood shook her head. "I was going to ask you if you'd seen Hermione. She seemed off yesterday and-"
"Are you sure?" Weasley asked. "She seemed fine last night before she fainted."
"She's not in the hospital," Lovegood said. "Neither of them. She fainted?"
"Yeah," Potter nodded. "Hermione fainted on the stairs, hit her head pretty hard. Ginny said she'd watch her if we went to get help. But neither of us remember what happened after that. We woke up in the portrait hole. But we checked the hospital, and no one else has seen them either. They're just gone."
"Gone?" Lovegood swallowed. "You don't think-"
"We really don't have time for your games!" Weasley snapped before turning to Potter. "Where haven't we checked yet?"
She hit her head, she can't have gone far, and the Weasley girl is about the same size but looks weak, can't have carried her far...he thought. He got about as much information as he thought he was going to get by listening. She hit her head pretty hard...please, please, let her be okay. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he processed this. His child was injured and missing. She could be anywhere, and she could be in any condition. What if she-no, that's impossible! He ignored the tightening of his throat and the lead in his lungs as he made himself known.
"Tell me exactly what happened last night." he said.
The boys exchanged a nervous glance and fell silent, as if trying to communicate what was safe to tell him and what wasn't. He felt the frozen terror within him shift to a heated desperation. Those boys had no idea what they were doing! Hermione could have been anywhere, and they were wasting time! Now his heart pounded in his ears and he folded his arms over his chest, clutching his arms with shaking hands. It was all he could do not to seize the boys by their shoulders and shake them.
"She's my child!" he cried. "Whatever the hell you little idiots are into, I don't give a damn! With everything going on this is not the time for your little secrets! I just want my daughter back! Now, you are going to tell me exactly what happened last night and you'll leave out no detail!"
As they relayed the story of them waiting for her in the common room and seeing her fall down the stairs and coming back to find both her and the Weasley girl gone, Severus honed in on Potter's eyes. His impression that he'd leave things out was correct. He saw images of Hermione with the boys in the library showing them the passage on basilisks, a diary found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, him writing in side diary and it writing back,A silver plaque with the name TM Riddle on it, Hermione pacing the length of a corridor and shouting, an argument between the three of them. Then he saw Hermione hit with a sudden brainwave, slap her forehead and rush up the stairs. It was followed by a final image of Hermione lying at the base of the stairs, her hair wet with blood oozing from the back of her skull, the boys knelt over her while a panicked Ginny Weasley dashed down the stairs to her side.
"You disgusting little boy," he seethed. "I wanted details because I want to find her-both of them-before something happens. I made the mistake of thinking you did too. You do what you should have done immediately and tell Professor McGonagall they're missing! Now!"
Severus immediately marched up to Dumbledore's office. T.M Riddle, why was that name at the forefront of Potter's mind? There was no way he knew...the diary! That was the focal point of his memories. Perhaps a former Death Eater manipulated from the other end? He didn't know, but imagined Dumbledore would. But what possible interest would whoever it was have in two little girls?
He entered Dumbledore's office to find him speaking to the fireplace, his face troubled as he stroked his beard.
"I think you have the wrong man, Cornelius," he said. "We haven't had an incident since December, and the victims will be revived soon. Yes, I see. We will talk about my-as you so kindly put it- 'mishandling' of the situation later. Another matter requires my attention. No, it can't wait."
Fudge clenched his jaw in displeasure before sighing and vanishing from the flames.
"No goodbye? How dreadfully rude," Dumbledore sighed before turning to him. "Severus, what is it?"
"Hermione's missing!" he said, hardly wanting to believe the words he spoke. "The Weasley girl too. The went missing late last night. And I don't think it's unrelated to the Chamber."
Dumbledore peered at him from over his half-moon spectacles, his face grave. "And what brought you to this conclusion, Severus?"
"Potter," he paced the office. "He found Riddle's diary in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The three of them seemed to connect some of the dots. I think whoever enchanted it to speak from the other end has a way to manipulate their correspondent. She must have found out. I told her not to get involved in all of this. She-" is injured badly and losing time. Probably terrified, he turned to Dumbledore. "Do you have any idea where the chamber might be?"
Dumbledore closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not, Severus. We'll call the students to their dormitories and call a meeting to search the castle. I'll have to let Molly and Arthur Weasley know their daughter's gone missing." He then gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We'll find them."
Drip, Drip, Drip.
Hermione awoke on a damp, cold stone floor with a ringing in her ears that faded in time for her to hear the faint but constant dripping. Her head pounded, dizziness plagued her as she attempted to rise. She tried to put weight on her arm and fell back as a sharp pain shot through her body. She let a pained scream as tears stung her eyes. She fell back onto the stone floor and reached for her wand.
"Finally awake, are we?" Ginny said, lighting her wand. "Looking for this?"
The room was a long and narrow chamber with a snake motif, serpents wound about dark grey pillars. A chill lingered in the damp air as Hermione tried to memorize the details from the high vaulted ceiling to the smooth stone walls. She looked for windows and found none. The ceiling, the cold floor, the lack of windows. The scent of the air made her think of the chambers through the trapdoor on the third floor corridor in the previous year. She was certain they were underground. She couldn't find a way out.
Underground, snake motif...They were in the chamber of secrets!
Ginny knelt beside her, an uncharacteristically malicious grin on her face. Hermione noticed that the wand Ginny held was not her own, but hers! Hermione thought back to the last thing she remembered. "You pushed me!" she squeaked. "You- you're not Ginny, are you?"
'Ginny' let out an evil laugh and touched her face. "Took you long enough. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!"
Hermione thought back to Ginny's weakening state, her trying to tell her something. She had suspected it, but convinced herself she was wrong. "You're the spirit that possessed the diary...Riddle."
"Close," Gin-Riddle said. "I had to move up my schedule because of you. I wanted to wait till I had drained enough of little Ginny to manifest my own body before meeting Harry Potter again. But you just had to figure out it was Ginny that stole the book back. Almost fed you to my basilisk for the trouble."
Hermione stared into Ginny's brown eyes, and felt there was already no trace of her, all she saw was Riddle's cruelty. She didn't like the way he searched her face and smirked. It made her skin crawl. "Why," she forced. "Didn't you?"
"I considered it, but even a broken little girl like you has a use," he said. "I was so worried you'd go and tell Harry, but you were just too easy to play!" he clasped Ginny's hands and widened her eyes before adopting a squeak. "I just knew you'd understand! You're a good person, Hermione. You're so clever, Hermione! And of course, the nail in the coffin, I trust you!"
Hermione shuddered. He was right, Hermione played right into his hands.
"You fell right in line, all I had to do was play into your insecurities. But I couldn't lay it on too thick, or you wouldn't trust it because you just know you're unworthy of love. You're mental, you're broken, a bad person. All you are is what you can do for others, and you're useless. No wonder Daddy finds you insufferable."
Tears poured down Hermione's cheeks. She knew exactly what Riddle was doing, but it didn't make any of what he said hurt less, or any less true. "But Ginny..."
"Oh, she was even easier!" he laughed. "Listening to her insipid concerns. What if Harry doesn't like me? What if all my classmates hate me? I think I love Harry. Hermione reached out to me today. I think I'd like to be her friend, but she's so close to Harry and Ron-what if she finds out and says something."
Hermione flinched as if she'd been slapped. Ginny wanted to be friends with her, and Hermione only paid attention to her because she'd suspected her. So inhaled sharply. "What do you want with Harry?"
"To meet the boy who could best Lord Voldemort as a baby, of course. I need to know how that child of a blood traitor and a mudblood could defeat such a great wizard. But it's not so bad we're early." he lifted her chin. "I'll kill you when he comes for you and leave Ginny just in time for the little blood traitor to see the last breath leave your frail, little body. I'll take the last of her strength and Harry Potter will see what real power is!"
"You were-" Hermione shivered. "1943 was before the Dark Lord's time, you can't be a Death Eater."
"Right you are, Hermione," he gave a rather nasty smile. "You'll know exactly who I am when Harry comes to rescue you-I mean us."