It was a good job that the school was practically empty, otherwise the descent into fear and chaos would have been even more pronounced. The latest victim was a Hufflepuff in their year, a boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley, who they had interacted with only on a few occasions. Harry had found him to be rather arrogant and pompous, but still didn't believe that he deserved this fate. The terrifying thing was that he had been supposed to be going home and everyone had presumed he had done, only for his body to be found in an abandoned corridor soon after his parents had contacted the school. Why he had been up there, no one knew, other than the fact that his frozen body showed the tell tale signs that he had been running from something , furthering the rumour that there had to be a monster in the school.

Even more troubling than Justin falling victim to this unknown creature, was the fact that Nearly Headless Nick had also succumbed to the same foe. He had been found hovering over the young Hufflepuff, his body smokey and dark rather than his usual translucence, his head hanging off his body and only staying put thanks to the thin strip of sinew that had plagued his afterlife. Beforehand, people had been scared enough of a monster that could petrify people but for it to do it to a ghost, something that was already dead…the feelings had surged way past fear and were bordering on the hysterics. It probably explained why the young Weasley girl (Harry had only just learned her name after her sudden and dramatic entrance into the common room) had been so distressed, though he wondered why it had been this attack that had truly struck home for her.

All Harry wanted to do was catch the person who was responsible for unleashing the monster on the school. Whenever he caught a glance of Malfoy in the corridors, his body was filled with an incandescent rage that no child his age should have been feeling. So he was relieved to see Matthew beckon him up to the dorm room one afternoon. Bored out of his mind and wondering where his friends had got to, he practically raced up the stairs to see what he had been doing. He was surprised to find Hermione sitting on his bed, her legs crossed underneath her. She had a large device sitting next to her, which looked very much like an old gramophone.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, now even more curious about what they'd been doing on their own. Why was he suddenly jealous? "How did you get up here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The number of times I've mentioned it and you still haven't read about Hogwarts' history. Girls are allowed to go in the boys' dorms. It just doesn't work the other way around. Probably because the professors know that girls are a lot more sensible."

"I can vouch for that," Matthew commented with a smirk. "Only a boy knows how truly stupid boys can be."

"How long have you been here?" Harry continued to press. "Alone?" He looked between the two of them and Matthew cottoned on immediately. It was his turn to be frustrated with their friend.

"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. If I was trying to romance Miss Granger, do you really think that I'd invite you up to join in? No, that's your answer." He tried to ignore how red Hermione's face was, only because it would have encouraged him to tease her further. "We've been listening to the recordings that have come back from the device monitoring Malfoy, which has involved us wading through hours and hours of mind-numbingly boring conversations that he has, mainly with himself in the mirror."

"Have you found anything interesting?" Harry immediately forgot his fascination with the potential of his two friends romancing one another, honing in on the issue that had been plaguing him for weeks.

"Why do you think I summoned you?" Matthew wandered over to the door and tapped it twice with the end of his cane. It glowed red for a second before returning back to its original colour. "That's so no one can listen in on what we're about to hear. It's the reason why we're doing it here. It's probably the most private room we can get during the day and I didn't want to lug around this heavy contraption around the school in order to find an empty classroom to use instead. Mainly because people would ask questions and they're on edge enough as it is."

He plonked himself on the same bed as Hermione, with Harry sitting on the edge of his own, leaning forward eagerly. They were about to get the proof they needed to get Draco out of the school for good.

"I hope you're not too disappointed by what you're about to hear," Matthew said as he poked the device with his wand (Harry was too distracted to wonder where he'd produced that from). The machine began to crackle audibly as if a record was playing and then, faintly at first, voices sprang out.

"That Weasley prefect has been sneaking around the dungeons quite frequently," one of the voices could be heard saying. It was Malfoy. It was incredibly easy to tell. Even without his face to add to his sliminess, his tone still dripped with condescension and spite. "I presume he's under the impression that he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed." He chuckled. "As if a Weasley could ever achieve anything successfully." Two more voices could be heard laughing obediently with him, his two ever present goons. "Oh, I haven't shown you it yet."

Malfoy's footsteps were picked up by the recording device. "The latest Daily Prophet. My father had an entire double feature on him, basically campaigning for an investigation into Hogwarts and the way it's being run. Actually nothing to do with the attacks, just how confused and stupid Dumbledore has become recently. Hopefully this will spark the other governors into action and they'll stand by my father. Soon, the standards of this sorry school will start to improve. And you'll have the Malfoys to thank for that."

"I dread to think that it's my actions that have put Dumbledore under even more pressure than he normally faces," Matthew spoke over the recording. "All because that little weasel couldn't defend himself."

"Whatever comes, you can't blame yourself for it," Hermione said. "Now hush, he's still talking."

"I can't believe the Prophet hasn't gone into details about the attacks yet," Malfoy's voice commented in its bored drawl. "I guess it'd only be newsworthy if proper and upstanding students were getting picked off, not the poor excuses for wizards that have been rightly targeted so far. Dumbledore must be silencing them somehow. If news got out, he'd be sacked within the week. Father's always said that he's the worst thing to happen to this school, always driven by that stupid love for Muggleborns. Father must be saving this going to print to use it when it'll hurt the most, when Dumbledore's at his weakest. I'm going to enjoy watching that old fool get thrown onto the streets."

His small audience chuckled along with him, as was expected of them. "I don't think it should stop there though," Malfoy continued. "There's plenty of people in this school who have so much potential and yet soil themselves with the dirt they associate themselves with. Look at Potter. He's got no proper wizard feeling, otherwise he wouldn't hang around with the Granger girl. Or Mormont." They could practically hear his sneer at the name. "That name shouldn't be around now still and yet he flaunts his magic wherever he goes as if he's something special. If he was, he'd have a family to support him but that's just another thing he's lacking." Malfoy guffawed and Harry saw Matthew clench the bed sheets tightly, even if he'd already heard this before, the only sign of anger he was showing.

"Maybe that's why he and Potter get along so well. They probably cry in each other's arms every night, despairing over the fact that their parents would rather die than see them grow up into the losers they are. And people have the audacity to think that Potter is the heir of Slytherin! What a load of nonsense."

Harry leaned forward. Despite Malfoy's taunts and jibes, showing how he was an awful person even when he wasn't around them, he could ignore them because it felt as if they were getting close to something important. He was deflated at Malfoy's next words.

"I wish I knew who it really was. I could help them! Surely they'd want to cooperate with a true Slytherin like me. The fact that they've not reached out even once makes me doubt that they actually exist but Father seems certain about their credentials. He won't tell me anything about the Chamber or how it opened the last time, only that it was fifty years ago, which anyone can find out if they read enough conspiracy books. Obviously, it's well before his time but he knows more than he'll tell me. For some reason, it was kept quiet all those decades ago, just like is happening now. He claims it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it, as if I don't know how to keep my mouth shut."

He was tapping something, likely his wand, in irritation. "He's let slip one thing so far and it's that the last time the chamber was opened, a Mudblood died. Fingers crossed that it's Granger so we can be rid of his know-it-all comments in every class."

Again, his followers guffawed at his hilarious remarks. Harry glanced at Hermione, whose face was stoic and impassive. He wondered what she must be going through, actually hearing another person wish death upon her. It was an example of the hidden pressure she was under, the pressure she never spoke about. It raised her up in his estimations, if that were at all possible.

"Anyway, I'll do as Father tells me, even if I think it's ridiculous. He told me in no uncertain terms to keep my head down and let the Heir take care of the Mudblood filth. About time if you ask me. But Father had more pressing concerns to think about than those lesser kinds of people. Did you hear in the Prophet how the Ministry conducted a raid in our manor? Father owns a lot of dark artefacts but the officials were too stupid to realise that we have a hidden chamber under the drawing room floor. They would have been walking on a hollow surface and didn't even realise, which is just more evidence of how it needs completely changing - "

Matthew stopped the recording with a sigh. The trio were left in momentary silence, mainly to allow Harry the time to process the new information. He was overcome with raging disappointment. He had been so sure that the culprit was Malfoy. He was the one who fit the profile perfectly but, if he didn't know who it was, then who would? Who would be their next lead? Who could possibly fit the values of Salazar Slytherin more than Draco Malfoy? Who despised Muggleborns and Halfbloods as much as the Malfoy family? Harry clenched his fist in frustration. Every step forward they took, they were met with a sturdier, taller, more imposing brick wall. Had he allowed his feud with Malfoy to colour his view? He didn't know. Matthew had suggested the possibility beforehand but he'd still gone through with spying on him. That was because Malfoy had been their only suspect. And that was gone.

"I was so certain that it was Malfoy," Harry said glumly, his head in his hands.

"We'd noticed," Matthew replied, but he sounded just as disappointed at the dead end. "But there's your proof that it definitely isn't him. He'd have no reason to lie. There was no way he could have known he was being listened to, even now. Once I accessed the recording, the device would have disintegrated. I wish I could find within me the motivation to gloat at being right but this is majorly annoying."

"So what do we do now? Who do we focus our attention on now? There are hundreds of other Slytherins to account for who could go under the radar, most of them coming from old families who will definitely have the same beliefs as Salazar. We need to widen our net, that's all. We haven't failed yet."

Hermione and Matthew shared a cautious look, the former choosing to speak first. "Harry, maybe it's best if we take a break with this investigation. I mean, if you wanted to look at every Slytherin in the school in as close a detail as we have with Malfoy, then that's going to be an impossible task."

"Just because it's difficult, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't try! Look at last year. We got through every obstacle and defeated Voldemort himself. Surely that's more impossible than figuring this task out!"

"We got lucky last year," Matthew amended. "I can't believe I'm about to say this but perhaps it's best if we follow Lucius Malfoy's advice. Keep our heads down, stay out of trouble, and stay out of danger. We don't have anything to go on until the monster shows itself again, which it might not."

"Malfoy said that someone died the last time the chamber closed. If we don't stop this, then that's going to happen to someone else in this school. That would be on us if we choose to give up."

"We're not giving up!" Matthew said frustratedly, losing his cool for the first time. "I don't know why you've got it into your head that it's our responsibility to put ourselves in danger, but that has never been the case. It's up to the professors to deal with this and, if there's a chance we can help, then we'll obviously do it. But when we've run out of clues, all we'd end up doing is getting in the way. And that's the ideal way of making sure we're the ones killed by the monster this time."

"I don't want to just sit around though," Harry complained, all the fight seemed to have left his voice.

"You won't be," Hermione interjected. "You'll be being vigilant like everyone else. We'll still be looking for clues but not so much that we become obsessed with it. And, with school starting again properly soon, I'm sure we'll have loads of work to occupy ourselves with." She grinned at their disappointed looks. "If that's not enough, I can easily make you a revision schedule from January so you're fully prepared for exams. Even a giant monster can't stop them. You'll completely forget about not being busy in no time at all."

Harry slumped into his hands. "I think I'd rather just sit around. Is that still an option?"

"Nope," Hermione replied triumphantly, already heading back down to the common room to start making that schedule. It was one of her favourite hobbies. She'd even get the extra special paper out to make them on, perhaps laminating them so that the boys couldn't just rip them up.

"Look at what you've managed to rope us into now," Matthew said, falling onto his bed with a huff before immediately sitting back up. "I need to have a word with one of the Weasley clan. Something about what Malfoy said piqued my interest. If we're not searching for monsters, we can still have a bit of fun. I'm sure Ron has mentioned that his dad works for the ministry. Can I borrow your owl?"

xxxxxxxxxxxx

As the weeks rolled by and the students returned to Hogwarts and the normal mundane reality of the school, it was almost easy to forget that there were two of their own lying in the Hospital Wing. No attacks had occurred since Finch-Fletchley and his ghostly companion had fallen victim to the possible monster, which also meant that there were no new leads for the trio to follow. Harry was starting to believe in Matthew's hopeful theory, that the monster had slinked back into the chamber, giving up on attacking defenceless children. Why it would do that, when no one was close to figuring out what it was or how to stop it, was a question that didn't have a logical answer but it was nice to have a bit of optimism. And Hermione had been right when she'd predicted their workload would distract them from their fruitless investigation. Harry reckoned he would be in the sixth year before he finished all of the homework Snape had set for them. He'd never asked whether he made his Slytherins do the same volume of work but he guessed that he was so vindictive and wicked that even being a fellow snake wouldn't always spare you from his ire.

They were walking up towards Gryffindor tower, Hermione explaining once again how many rat tails went into a hair raising potion, when an angry shout reverberated around the stone walls. It easily caught their attention and they froze on the spot. Thankfully, no one else was around, otherwise there would have been some disgruntled outbursts about them getting in the way. The three of them looked at one another, all silently agreeing to do the same thing, hurriedly rushing up the stairs to the floor above, where the yell had originated from.

"That was Filch!" Harry said through ragged breaths as he took two steps at a time, launching him up the stairs. "Do you think that someone else has been attacked?"

"There's only one way to find out," Matthew said as they finally reached the corridor, not even pausing to stop their hearts from beating rapidly. By the corner, the three of them stood, backs pressed against the stone, out of sight. "Do you remember when I said we should steer clear of danger? That actually lasted longer than I first reckoned."

Filch's footsteps could be heard as he marched about grumpily. "Even more work for me! As if I don't have enough to do! Mopping every night and it never gets any better. No, this is the final straw. I'm having a word with Dumbledore. He can at least get me a better mop and bucket!" Eventually his voice receded into the distance, along with his heavy stomps.

They risked poking their heads around the corner, finding themselves at a familiar scene. The caretaker had been manning his usual post, the sight of the first attack. It was quickly clear what had caused Filch to be shouting so much. Where there had been a noticeable puddle on the floor that frightening Halloween night, there was now a considerable amount of water flooding from the nearby bathroom, still leaking through the door. And the bathroom's occupant could be heard wailing hysterically now that Filch had disappeared.

"We could just walk away," Matthew suggested. "We don't need to know why Myrtle is crying. Frankly, I think our day will be a lot better if we pretend that ghost doesn't exist."

Harry was already hiking his robe up though, stepping through the growing puddle. "No chance! Come on!"

"That boy is going to be the death of me," Matthew grumbled to Hermione but they both followed their friend past the 'Out of order' sign.

The bathroom was even darker than when they had last been inside, since the candles had been extinguished in the massive rush of water that was coating the walls as well as the floor. Moaning Myrtle, usually a very dramatic phantom, was crying louder than they had ever heard. Matthew still hopelessly continued to motion for them to leave before she realised she had visitors, but Harry spoke before they could make a hasty escape.

"What's up, Myrtle?" he asked in as sincere a voice he could muster.

"Who's that?" came a barked response. "Come to throw more stuff at me?"

He had managed to wade over to her stall. "Why would I do that?"

Myrtle appeared, her head spurting out from the closed door. "Don't ask me! There I was, minding my own business, and someone thought it was funny to throw a book at me. Students are always so cruel!"

"But…surely it wouldn't hurt if something gets thrown at you, right? It'd just go right through you." He had thought it was a rather reasonable conclusion but he spotted Matthew wince at his comment.

Evidently, he was right to think it should have been left unsaid as Myrtle was suddenly fully out of her cubicle, her face furious. "Oh, let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it! That'll be hilarious. Ten points if you can get it through her stomach. Fifty points if you manage to find the head! Ha ha ha!"

Hermione, taking pity on Harry, chose to step in to ease the tension. "Do you know who threw it? Perhaps we could talk to them and explain why they shouldn't do it again."

"Because children are always so willing to listen to those sorts of instructions," Myrtle replied sarcastically. "I don't know anyway! I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, one of my favourite hobbies. And it fell right through the top of my head." She gestured to a point behind them. "It's over there if you want to see the evidence. It got washed up."

They looked at where she directed. Sat in one of the puddles, as wet as everything else in the room, was a thin, nondescript book. Its cover was black and shabby and even from the short distance it was from them, they could tell it was fairly old. Harry went over to pick it up but suddenly found Matthew's staff sparking against the stone floor as he slammed it just in front of his hand.

"Woah! What was that for?" Harry shouted. "You could have taken my hand off with that thing!"

"Oh, please. I know perfectly well how to wield it. If I wanted to remove your hand, I would have done." Matthew stepped in front of it. "This could be dangerous. You don't go around, picking things up that you don't know about, especially in the wizarding world."

"It's a book," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "What harm could it possibly do?"

"You'd be surprised." Even so, Matthew slowly placed his hand on it. Showing it to them, it was clear that it was some sort of diary and the damaged cover had a little print at the bottom, telling them that it was fifty years old.

"T.M Riddle," Matthew read as he turned onto the other page. "Must have been a student here. All the other pages are blank so so much for it being used as a diary. They probably forgot it existed."

"Then why would someone be trying to flush it away now?"

"Riddle must have been muggleborn," Hermione commented. "This says that it comes from a variety store on Vauxhall Road in London. I wouldn't see any fully fledged magical families shopping there."

Harry was rather disappointed in its emptiness. Matthew was keeping it at arm's length, much to his frustration. "Come on, we've seen that it's just a book! Why do you get to hold it but we can't?"

"Because I'm special," Matthew said with a condescending grin. "And I've got longer arms so you can't reach it."

"For all we know, it could have hidden powers," Hermione suggested, sneaking up behind Matthew and snatching it from his hand. "Not so special now, are you?" She stuck her tongue out at her friend, with Harry quickly huddling around her to get a closer look at the object. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't think I ever am," Harry replied honestly.

"This diary was bought fifty years ago. Lucius Malfoy said that the chamber was opened fifty years ago. Don't you think that's too big of a coincidence to ignore? What if this Riddle boy was somehow involved? Or at least a student at the time? His diary would provide a lot of details on what happened, I suspect."

"Except that it's empty so it won't tell us anything."

"It could be invisible ink!" Tapping her wand against one of the pages three times, she muttered a quick spell. "Aparecium!" But nothing happened, much to her disappointment.

"Even I'm realising that this is just another dead end. And that's coming from me." Harry was ready to throw it back into the toilet just out of spite.

"I wouldn't say that," Matthew commented, gingerly taking the book from them again. His hand reverently moved across the colour and he closed his eyes in concentration, only to draw back sharply. He let out a hiss. "I'm starting to think that this does have a connection to what happened five decades ago. Because there seems to be some very dark magic contained in this. We need to take this to Dumbledore. Straight away."