They stood outside of Dumbledore's office, Matthew still clutching the diary, though Harry had noticed that he was actually using part of his cloak to touch it instead of his exposed hand. He didn't know how his friend knew that the book contained dark magic but it was uncommon to see him as serious as he was now. All Harry wanted to do was investigate the object further without bringing in any of the professors. It would be a waste of their time when they could be searching for the monster and, for some reason, Harry felt drawn to the diary. It was as if it was calling his name, lurring him closer. All he had to do was open it and the answers would reveal themselves. Of course, there were no words inside but he had already seen magic more impossible than vanishing messages. All he had to do was deter his friends from this choice. He couldn't allow the book to get into Dumbledore's hands. He had no idea why that thought was circling in his head and he tried to fight it, wanting to have faith in the great wizard. Why was he questioning the headmaster? Why did it feel as if it wasn't him who was raising those troubling questions?

"Stop looking at it," Matthew said, breaking him from his warring mind.

Harry, who had zoned out from their reality and was somewhere rather disturbing, looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You were staring at the diary. You might have burned a hole through it if you'd looked any harder. Why are you so fascinated by it?"

"I…don't know. I mean…I'm not." Harry was so shaken from what had happened that he couldn't even give a convincing performance.

"Don't allow yourself to be tempted by it. I have no idea what this thing is but it's definitely bad news. Dark magic has the ability to warp your mind if you're not careful. I'm hoping that Dumbledore will have more knowledge about what it holds. At the very least, he'll know how to deal with it."

"Are you sure that this is the right decision?" Hermione asked nervously. She had had nightmares about going to the headmaster's office and now it was happening twice within the space of a few months. "What if it is just a book and we make Professor Dumbledore use his precious time to tell us that. I don't think he'd be happy about that. I wouldn't. I don't like getting disturbed when I'm writing an essay and we're disturbing him from hunting an evil monster."

"It's better to be safe than sorry. It's likely that this is connected to the Chamber so, even if it's not dark magic - I would be surprised if it wasn't though - then it'll still be a helpful clue for him. I just…don't like its presence. Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is bad news and I get that feeling from this too." His nose wrinkled as he looked down at it. "The sooner we've got rid of it, the better so there's no point dilly dallying around in the corridor." Matthew gave the gargoyle the required password, thanks to his detention with the headmaster, and proceeded to walk up the spiralling staircase, his two companions following behind but a lot less eagerly.

The door opened automatically for them as they approached, though they were still cautious upon walking into the fascinating room. It was empty and Harry was almost relieved about that. He glanced around, taking more of it than he'd been able to the last time he'd been there. Having to face possible expulsion had meant he couldn't really enjoy the experience. He noticed the Sorting Hat, looking as worn as ever, perched on one of the shelves and his mind wandered to the revelation of his parseltongue abilities. Harry considered trying to talk to the hat once more, to ask why he had been sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, especially since the hat had wanted to put him there initially. But, with his friends alongside him, he chose to avoid that personal dilemma. Whatever answer he got, he knew it probably wouldn't help with his dilemma.

A small, strained chirp caught their attention and the trio realised that they weren't exactly alone. Behind the door, clutching onto a golden perch, was a decrepit-looking bird with a tired face and most of its feathers missing. Harry thought it resembled the turkeys they'd eaten at the Christmas feast. He felt sad for it since it looked so ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as they looked at it, more feathers gently tumbled from its tail. Matthew and Hermione looked fascinated by it and they slowly approached.

"Is that…" Matthew started.

"A phoenix? Yes!" Hermione quietly squealed so as to not disturb the poor creature. "I've heard rumours that Professor Dumbledore had one but I thought they must have been wrong when it wasn't here when we were. It was probably off flying somewhere."

"What's a phoenix?" Harry asked, always hating it when they could bond in their shared knowledge, sometimes leaving him out. It wasn't their fault and yet he was always slightly hurt by it. "I don't think that thing could fly to the bookshelf. Just look at the state it's in."

And, as he said it, the bird promptly burst into flames. Harry jumped back in shock, almost knocking a table over, whilst Matthew and Hermione barely flinched, mesmerised by the spectacle. Meanwhile Harry started to look for something to help, perhaps a glass of water, as the creature was engulfed by flames, becoming a fireball in front of them. He was helpless to do anything as it gave one final shriek and disappeared, only a pile of ash and dust left in its place. Harry gaped. He wanted to cry. And he wanted to shout at his friends for being so relaxed about it all.

"Why are you just standing there?" he yelled, a bit too hysterically even for the situation. "You could have done something! What's wrong with you? Dumbledore is going to have us expelled for killing his pet bird!"

"I don't think I'm going to do anything that drastic, Mister Potter," a deep voice resonated behind him and Harry froze, slowly forcing himself to turn around, coming face to face with the former owner of the now dead bird. He was still confused as to why Matthew and Hermione were grinning, practically on the verge of hysterics. Dumbledore noted their expressions and wandered over to the perch, lightly pressing a finger against the ash. "I'm rather disappointed that I missed the show. I've been telling him for a few days to get it over with and, alas, he does it when I'm not around. One tries not to be offended."

Harry felt a searing headache creeping up on him and he was sure that it would only get worse if people didn't start explaining what was going on. "You don't sound surprised, sir."

"It seems as if your friends can give you the reason as to why that is."

Hermione was all too eager to take the opportunity to impress, especially in front of the headmaster. "That was a phoenix, Harry, as you heard us say. When they die, phoenixes basically combust like you just saw and are reborn from what's left."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said with a clap. "Five points to Gryffindor for such excellent knowledge of a topic outside of your curriculum. You'll do splendidly on your Care of Magical Creatures examination if you show such unexpected understanding. Though I'm sure your fellow students would not see your brilliance as unexpected, Miss Granger."

It was safe to say that Hermione's smile was the largest they'd ever seen, even if her reds were completely red at the compliment. She was going to treasure this moment forever. Perhaps going to his office had been a good idea after all. Matthew gave her a slight nudge to break her from her happy stupor, smirking at her embarrassed floundering.

"Thank you, professor," she mumbled, unable to meet his eye for some reason.

Harry was still confused but it started to make sense when the pile of bird debris began to shift, some of it falling onto the floor. And, from underneath the mound, a wrinkled face blinked up at him. The baby bird was just as ugly as the last but Harry still found it completely fascinating. He was already planning on visiting the library to see if there were any books about the strange and wonderful creatures. Perhaps when he got Slytherin's monster off his plate.

Dumbledore had moved to the chair behind his desk as they stared at the inquisitive animal, enjoying the sight of their obvious interest and enchantment with it. "It's a shame that you had to see Fawkes on his burning day. He's really very handsome most of the time. He has the most wonderful red and gold plumage. Did you know that phoenixes can carry loads far greater than their own mass, and their tears can have healing properties? As a young boy I was always interested in them for having such impossible abilities and now I'm lucky to have such a faithful pet." He leant forward, his fingers steepled together. "But there are more pressing matters than discussing the brilliance of my loyal bird. Such as why you three were in my office in the first place."

The trio shared a look and it was Matthew who stepped forward, gingerly placing the diary on the table in front of the old wizard. Dumbledore gazed at it curiously, but there was something else in his gaze that Harry picked up on. It was a seriousness and gravenss that he'd rarely seen in him. To be frank, the headmaster was looking tired already and, not for the first time, he was led to consider how much pressure was on Dumbledore. After hearing what Lucius Malfoy was concocting behind the scenes, Harry was glad that he wasn't in the shoes of the great man.

"How did you come by this?" he asked briskly, his voice gravelly and even deeper than usual.

"It was thrown away in the corridor where the first attack happened," Matthew explained. "In the bathroom to be precise. Its magical aura is all wrong. It's corrupted. And the most troubling thing is that an ordinary book shouldn't have any magical presence whatsoever. Meaning…"

"That you believe this to be far more than just an ordinary book," Dumbledore finished for him. He placed his hand an inch above the cover and concentrated, his eyes flickering closed. They didn't know what to do in the momentary silence, finding it quite awkward. When they opened again, he didn't say anything but his skin definitely looked paler.

"It belonged to someone called Riddle," Harry filled in. It was easy to notice the way Dumbledore's eyes darted at the mention of the name. "We think he was a student here, fifty years ago. When the…attacks first happened. So we definitely think that this diary is somehow connected to what happened."

"Well, you certainly made the right choice in bringing it to me. Thank you. This should help us in our ongoing investigations. Now, I'm sure that, given the present situation, it is best if you return promptly to your common room. Thank you again."

Harry couldn't believe what was happening, how the headmaster was basically shooing them away after they'd done the hard work. He wanted answers and a part of him that was far more boisterous than the rest of him urged him to get exactly that. "But, sir…I think that we should know what happened all those years ago. If the same thing is happening, then it's likely that the same person is behind it. So, if they failed to capture them back then, we've got a chance to rectify that mistake."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Since the suspected culprit was captured fifty years ago."

That surprised Harry a great deal and it showed on his face. "Who?"

"That is in the past and shouldn't have to concern such young minds."

"You said the 'suspected' culprit," Matthew pointed out. "Does that mean that you don't think they did it? And it probably means that they didn't get sentenced. So surely it's okay for you to tell us, professor."

Hermione wanted to crawl inside herself, fearful that her friends were pushing their luck, crossing a line. She would never dare dream of speaking to the headmaster in the same way and yet, there they were, doing exactly that. They had never been normal boys and they were showing that now. Most wizards feared Dumbledore just as much as they respected him, but Matthew and Harry were showing none of that. They were either incredibly brave or majorly foolish, and Hermione was leaning towards the latter. She watched as the old man sighed heavily, clearly debating what to do.

"You three really shouldn't be meddling in events as dangerous as these. I should have warned away such intervention after what happened last year with the Philosopher's Stone."

"Yet you told me that we were a great help," Harry said. "And we can be so again. We're already involved in this, whether you like it or not."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Watch how you're talking!"

"I wouldn't want them to hold back, Miss Granger. There is no need to worry. They won't face any punishment for giving their opinion. I would be a poor headmaster if I never listened to differing voices." There was a hint of the usual gleam in Dumbledore's eyes but it was severely diluted compared to its typical glimmer.

"We are involved, Hermione," Harry continued, carried on a wave of confidence that would surely be crashing soon. "Because we're in the school. All we want is to know what happened fifty years ago, so that we can learn from it. How can we be safe if we're liable to make the same mistakes?"

Dumbledore glanced over at Matthew. "Do you feel the same way, Mister Mormont?" The other two were confused why he'd be so concerned with his opinion.

"I'll always stand by Harry, especially on this," the boy responded, nodding his head in solidarity at his friend. "It can't hurt us to know more information. And we could give you a different insight into what happened which may be the key in finally solving this. Seeing as you're obviously still at a loss."

"You're going to get us expelled," Hermione whimpered. "You're going to get us expelled and I am never going to forgive you. I'll be there, reminding you every day of how stupid you were to think it was appropriate to talk like this."

"You could go," Matthew said, with no hint of malice in his voice. "If you're afraid of what we're doing or if you don't think we're right. We won't be insulted if you choose to not go down with us."

Hermione didn't hesitate. "I'm not leaving. Because, no matter how incomprehensibly stupid you're both being, I believe in you. And I know you're right. It wouldn't be right to let you do this without me when we've got this far together. But you'll be the ones who have to explain my expulsion to my parents because I'm certainly not doing it."

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly and left his desk, wandering over to the fireplace. Harry was amazed as he placed his full head into the roaring flames, watching as they turned a vibrant green. When the headmaster eventually pulled his head back out, he was even more surprised to see that it wasn't scorched or burnt.

"But…what…but…how did you do that?" he sputtered, pointing at the now normal looking fireplace. Again, he was confused and a bit annoyed that his friends didn't appear as shocked as him.

"Oh, that?" Dumbledore chuckled. "The fireplace is connected to the Floo network." Harry still looked nonplussed. "I suppose you'll never have used it. Fireplaces connected to the network can typically allow wizards to travel from one spot to another, as long as the destination is also part of that same network. Sadly, the security at Hogwarts, especially the magical wards surrounding the castle, don't allow the travelling aspect but they can still be used for communication. I've asked someone to join us to help explain the events you've been researching."

Harry's eyes instantly lit up. "So you'll tell us everything."

"Everything that I believe is relevant for the time being," the old man amended quickly, only to temper their expectations. "You are right in your belief that similar attacks happened fifty years previous, when I was simply a professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Something targeted muggle born students until this culminated in the tragic death of one such pupil. The Ministry, as you would suspect, would have been appalled that such a thing could happen at Hogwarts and threatened to close the school. But, before that could happen, a culprit was identified and their punishment, corresponding with a secession of the attacks, seemed to put a close to the situation. Until this very Halloween night when the Chamber was opened once more."

"So there is a chamber," Hermione reasoned, her mind working with a million thoughts per second.

"Over my many years, Miss Granger, I have learnt that there can be valuable truth hidden in rumours. It would go against every principle in my body to say that the chamber doesn't exist just because there is no evidence. But, alas, it has remained an infuriating theory ever since. I had hoped that, upon my ascension to the position of headmaster, that my greater access would help me find such a hidden section of the school but I am yet to be that lucky."

"If the person was punished, does that mean that the monster was found with them?" Harry wondered, his brow furrowing. Things still weren't making complete sense.

" A creature was found, yes, but not the one I believe could be tormenting the school currently."

"Do you know what the actual monster is then?"

"Do you think that, if I did, I would be allowing it to continue to roam the corridors?" There was a hint of mirth in Dumbledore's voice but Harry still had the grace to look bashful.

"No, of course. Sorry, professor."

"Again, you need not have to worry. My ego has been belittled consistently in the press for as long as I can remember. A harmless, passing comment is unlikely to do much damage."

"Who was punished then?" Matthew asked. "You haven't told us. Was it this Riddle person? Someone using a book like that would probably have the capacity to do something this evil. Are they even still alive? A lot could have happened in fifty years." His eyes lit up. "Did he have any children? That would fit the criteria of there being an heir in a sense."

Dumbledore held up a hand. "I will come to Mister Riddle's involvement in the events when the time calls for it. As for the person who was believed to be responsible, they are who I just summoned to join us. And, as luck would have it, they have arrived at the door."

Harry didn't know how he did it but he was right in his remark, as the door swung open heavily and a looming frame stepped into view, joined by jolting footsteps that threatened to shake the fanciful objects off their shelves around the room. The trio collectively took in a breath in shock at the figure before them, someone who was immediately recognisable. Someone who would have been at the bottom of their list of suspects. Someone who couldn't possibly have done this because he would never hurt a lie.

"You wanted to see me, headmaster," Hagrid said in greeting until his eyes landed on the three children. "Harry, Hermione, Matthew? What are you doing here? You're not in trouble are you?" He looked distressed straight away. "Professor Dumbledore, whatever you think they did, they didn't do it. I can vouch for all three of them. Um…they were all in my hut…during whatever time you're investigating. I made them tea and cakes and…we took Fang on a walk. A very long walk that means they couldn't have possibly done…anything you're claiming."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Your ability at lying still needs a little work, Hagrid. There is no need for concern. They aren't in any trouble, other than the danger their inquisitiveness could get them into." He gave them a pointed look over his half moon spectacles and they got the thinly veiled message. "It is that inquisitiveness that has called for me to bring you here since they are asking for the truth of what happened fifty years ago. I wouldn't want to have this conversation but you must admit that it's better for them to know now, not with the threats the ministry has been making recently. I can see how quickly you were willing to defend them because of your friendship and I would hate for it to be damaged in the future."

Hagrid's face had fallen at the explanation of his summons and he couldn't quite meet the eye of the trio. Harry felt heartbroken at the revelation. "Hagrid…did you open the Chamber of Secrets?"

"No!" he bellowed indignantly. "Of course I didn't. How could you even think such a thing? First of all, I'm a proud Gryffindor. As if I could be the heir of Slytherin. I'm not exactly the purest blood that that Salazar loved so much."

"But you were…found guilty the last time?" Hermione risked saying.

"I wasn't allowed to defend myself! It was my word against…his!" Hagrid looked like he was on the verge of sobbing, with his eyes welling up ominously. "I would never hurt anyone! That's what I tried to tell them but they wouldn't listen."

Harry's eyes widened. "You were expelled. You had your wand taken away and snapped. That was your punishment when you were at Hogwarts. Is that what happened?"

Hagrid bowed his head. "There was mention of Azkaban but I think my age worked to my advantage. But a price still had to be paid."

"It was a punishment that I vehemently campaigned against," Dumbledore interjected. "But I couldn't overrule the headmaster. I could, however, convince Headmaster Dippet to allow Hagrid to remain on the grounds, where he was trained to be the wonderful groundskeeper that he is now."

"Which is why I owe so much to you, headmaster. And I'll never forget that!" Hagrid was still on the weepy side.

"It's still awful," Hermione said in a sad voice. "If there was no proof against you, I don't see how they could have done this to you."

"That was the thing. The boy's claims were enough to convince everyone important that I was behind the attacks."

"What boy?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore coughed and gestured to the diary. "Your acquaintance T.M Riddle was the student who alerted our attention to Hagrid's supposed actions."

Hagrid's face was set in a scowl at the mention of his name. " Tom Riddle . A fifth year student when it happened. He caught me with Aragog that evening and presumed that he was the monster. As if that little thing could harm anyone!"

Matthew held a hand against his forehead. "I almost dread to ask but…who's Aragog?"

"A pet I had. He needed looking after and I was the only one in the school who could do it properly. What was I supposed to do? Let it die? I'd rather have my wand snapped in front of me than cause something like that."

Harry could only imagine what sort of pet Aragog was. Hagrid had already shown a peculiar tendency to underestimate the danger animals could represent. They'd been forced to take care of a baby dragon and go against a three-headed dog the year previous because of the groundskeeper, and his dog was as boisterous as they came. "Are you sure that Aragog didn't do it then?"

"Absolutely not!" Hagrid replied straight away."

"Then we're at the same dead end as we were before. We know that there has to be a monster but the monster that everyone thinks it is is the wrong monster. Dear me, how many monsters can there be in this school? No offence, Professor Dumbledore."

"None taken, Mister Potter. But we are not at a dead end as you claim. I will analyse the diary you have given me to see if there are any hidden clues. I sincerely hope that your work will unearth the key to solving this. For now, it is best for you to follow my earlier instructions and return at once to your common room. I'm sure such investigative work will have tired you out." They were about to leave when Dumbledore spoke again. "Oh, and Mister Mormont…I haven't forgotten that we are due one final detention together. How about this Saturday afternoon? There's a quidditch game on and I've heard you're not too interested in the sport, so that should be most beneficial to you."

Matthew's expression was unreadable. "Certainly, sir."

Hagrid walked with them out of the office. "I feel so ashamed. I should have told you earlier about what happened." He reached for a giant hankie, only to find that it was rather dirty from his last bout of tears. Matthew produced one out of thin air nonchalantly and handed it to him.

Hermione, keen to learn how he did that, instead focused on comforting their friend. "Don't worry, Hagrid. We understand why you didn't want to talk about it. And we'll make sure to prove to everyone that you're innocent!"

The half-giant frowned. "Now, Dumbledore and the other professors have got this covered. You shouldn't be getting involved anymore. You've done as much as you can so put this to the back of your mind. I overheard Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout earlier discussing the development of the mandrakes for the cure for the poor students, and that's making good progress. Hopefully, that means we're reaching the end of this and we can finally move on."

The three of them shared a look, knowing that them staying out of this was as unlikely as it coming to an end so easily.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Saturday came about without further incident. Dumbledore acted as if nothing had changed, which they couldn't tell whether was a good or bad thing. Hagrid kept apologising to them whenever they saw them so they'd put off any visits to his hut until that calmed down, if it ever did. And, on the Saturday, Matthew went off to have his final detention with the headmaster, the instruction ringing in his ear to try to prize any information he could get out of the professor concerning any more developments. That left Harry and Hermione on their own in an empty common room, with the rest of the House and school enjoying the quidditch. They'd considered going just to see what it was like but Hermione had claimed that she'd wanted to do some more research based on a hunch she'd had. Harry had been all too happy to oblige, enjoying the extra time with her. Sure, it involved mainly reading but there was still something comfortable about it. Or as comfortable as one could be in an old castle with a monster hiding somewhere and an evil diary popping up in the toilets.

They were fairly content in their calm peace, having just set up their planned work for the afternoon, when the door opened to let in an unhappy crowd, sopping wet from the rain. Harry checked the time, noticing how there would have been no time to get the quidditch game started, let alone won. Ron Weasley huffed loudly as he fell into a nearby armchair and Harry leaned over.

"What are you doing back so early?"

"Game was called off," the ginger-haired boy complained. "And they wouldn't even tell us why!"

It was at that moment when the crowd parted, allowing Professor McGonagall to march into the room. All eyes were on her but she was laser focused in her approach, heading for Harry and Hermione. Harry took one look at her face and it was then that his stomach dropped. He barely registered her asking for them to follow her, barely noticed that his legs were carrying him through the corridor or that he'd even gotten up in the first place. They didn't say anything as they walked but he could tell Hermione was immensely worried. They continued to walk and it was soon clear where they were heading. Harry felt like he'd known as soon as they'd left Gryffindor tower where their destination was. McGonagall directed them into the hospital wing, her face falling as she looked at them, letting them in first. Madam Pomfrey was fussing by a bed where a female figure lay. Harry didn't properly register them. Dumbledore was there too. Harry didn't properly register him. His eyes went to the bed where the headmaster stood.

Where Matthew lay frozen, his eyes glassy and unmoving, his body rigid and cold.