Neville stood in shock for a few moments, then thundered into a twin embrace from his parents. Tears flowed from all three, and even Hermione looked moist-eyed. Harry turned away modestly until the Longbottoms had spent their happy reunion tears and Neville immediately began talking.
"How is this possible?" Neville asked in a hushed voice. "You're out of the hospital ... and you're awake ... and you're okay! How?!"
Alice smiled down fondly at her son. "We have Mr Black, here, to thank for that."
Neville looked over at Sirius. He still retained an air of caution around the once-accused murderer, but that pretence fell away as his face cracked into a wide smile.
"Thank you, Mr Black," Neville beamed. "How did you do it?"
Sirius barked out his trademark laugh. "We don't have anything like the sort of time to explain that right now. But, luckily for you, you have a very expert source, in this young lady right here. She can do a better job of explaining than any of us."
Neville cocked a curious eye at Hermione, who coloured slightly under the attention. Then she thought she'd better offset any potentially awkward confessions later.
"I knew about your parents, Neville," she disclosed in a small voice. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but they asked me not to. In any case, it's not an easy thing to explain."
"It really isn't," Harry agreed supportively, for Neville was looking hurt at the revelation. "But we'll explain all that we know later. That's a promise."
"Try not to be upset, Nev," Frank cajoled. "When we met Hermione - which was over a year ago now - we weren't able to return to you like this. It's not her fault that our situation was kept from you. This is all very new for everyone concerned."
"But great new," Alice nodded keenly.
That cheered Neville up again, as he wrapped his mother up in another hug.
"Okay, so that's that out of the way," Sirius went on with a smirk. "Now what's this you were saying about murdered poultry?"
Neville unfolded from his mother's embrace once more. "Hagrid keeps chickens and roosters, but someone has butchered them. It must have been quite horrific by the way Hagrid was going so crazy. Why would someone do that?"
Hermione leaned in close to whisper in Harry's ear. Her breath tickled his skin as she spoke.
"It must be a basilisk then! The cry of the rooster is fatal to it, I read about that somewhere. That must be why someone killed them!"
"Do you think we should tell Neville?" Harry whispered back.
"No, he might panic ... or start a mass one."
They were huddled conspiratorially now, and it drew everyone's attention.
"What are you nattering about so privately?" asked Sirius. "If you have any thoughts, share them with the group!"
Harry looked guiltily at Hermione. "We thought ... maybe ..."
"Lockhart," Hermione announced loudly. Harry looked at her in amazement. She was telling a downright lie to the adults. There was something impressive about that, and Harry tried not to grin at her.
"Lockhart?" Sirius scoffed. "Not Gilderoy Lockhart? But ... why? What am I missing?"
"Oh! Of course! You don't know!" Harry guffawed. "Well, you'd never guess, so I'd better tell you. Lockhart is teaching us now."
"What!" Sirius thundered. "You are joking, right? Please tell me you are!"
Harry shook his head with another quirked grin at Hermione, who pouted in reply. "Nope. He's our new Defence Professor."
"Oh sweet Merlin above!" Sirius exclaimed. "What in the world is Dumbledore thinking hiring that cretin? You cant have learned a single thing this year then!"
"Oh we have," Hermione cut across, desperately trying to find a way to defend Lockhart from Sirius's impending attack. A fraud he may have been, but being a teacher still held some weight in Hermione's view. It earned Lockhart one last defence. "We have, you know, learned that he likes lilac, and wants harmony between all magical peoples ... and to market his own range of hair care products!"
Harry choked out a laugh as Sirius slapped a hand to his forehead. "Useful stuff, then!"
"Well ... harmony is good," Hermione argued in a little voice. "I'd like harmony."
"Wouldn't we all!" Harry soothed.
"Dear me, I'm going to have to get Albus to explain that particular moment of insanity to me before I return home," Sirius declared, scratching the designer stubble on his chin. "But why would old Lockhart be killing chickens?"
"I don't know," Hermione mused, continuing her ruse. "Maybe there's something in the blood he can use in a skincare balm or something. Vampiresses often bathe in blood to retain their youthful skin, don't they?"
Sirius and Frank nodded with mirrored impressed expressions.
"A solid deduction," said Frank. "Certainly worth considering. But, Nev, didn't you say Dumbledore had called an assembly to address this?"
"Yeah, and we'd better get up there," Neville confirmed. "Don't want to seem suspicious by walking in late."
"Lead on then, sweetheart," Alice urged.
"Will you come too?" Neville asked. He sounded hopeful, almost as though he expected his parents to vanish if he took his eyes off them for too long.
"Yes, I think we'd better," Alice replied as they left the classroom. "I think we ought to introduce ourselves to the Headmaster. He might wonder why two strange adults are wandering around his school without permission otherwise."
But they hadn't gone very far when they found their way barred by a large crowd. They were all reading something that had been daubed in huge letters on the wall at the foot of the Grand Staircase. Letters that were a suspicious shade of dripping red ...
"Well, I think that clears up where the chicken blood went," Harry hissed to Hermione as they read the words with a shudder.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED!
THE UNWORTHY WILL TREMBLE AND DESPAIR!
"The Chamber of Secrets?" Harry recited. "That sounds familiar. I'm sure my Dad mentioned something about that once. I cant remember what it was, though."
"Well, whatever it was, apparently it's open now," Hermione pointed out in a shivery voice.
"And someone wants everyone to know it is," Harry added.
"Why write it here, though?" Hermione asked quizzically. "I mean, I know it's a visible spot and everything, but still."
"Maybe it's a clue?" Harry suggested. "It's near the stairs, after all. Maybe it's a reference to The Stare you and Sirius were talking about. Hermione - maybe this isn't a warning, but a message to try and help."
Hermione looked dubious. "If it is, it's very vague."
"Well, I got it," Harry argued. "And everyone keeps saying I'm not very perceptive, though I don't know what that means!"
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at that. She grabbed onto Harry and planted her head on his shoulder as she giggled away.
"You'd better hold on tight, Granger," said a familiar drawl from behind them. "You'll need Potter's protection if that message is to be believed."
"Oh yeah?" Harry spat acridly, spinning to glower at Draco Malfoy, who had sauntered up next to them. "And why's that?"
"Don't you know, Potter?" Malfoy taunted. "I thought you and this know-it-all had all the answers."
"For useful things, we do," Hermione scowled.
"And you don't think knowing that the Chamber of Secrets belonged to Salazar Slytherin is useful? Tut, tut, Granger. You really need to sort out your priorities."
There was something dark in Malfoy's taunt and Harry, who would usually have brushed anything he had to say off, found himself drawn to believe him.
"Priorities?" Harry parroted. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Only this," Malfoy sneered. "That Slytherin was a great wizard because he had his priorities clear. No magical education to those who weren't worthy ... and pure. Sorry, but Mudbloods like this really wouldn't have made the grade in Salazar's day. I really wish they wouldn't in my day, either. Nevermind, let's just hope whatever horror is lurking in that Chamber will kill you first, Granger."
Harry lunged at Malfoy, but a strong arm from Sirius pulled him back like he was on a bungee cord. Harry struggled, but Sirius was much bigger and stronger than him. Than Malfoy, too, who he now towered over looking furious.
"You're Lucius' son, am I right?" Sirius growled. Malfoy baulked and swallowed with a nod. "Interesting, isn't it, how your father managed to avoid Azkaban after the war? I met a few Death Eaters during my short stay there that would just love to hear how he did it ... and more than one Dementor who might find his rotten soul a tasty aperitif."
The threat was clear, and Draco mumbled something incoherent as he backed away from Sirius' vicious expression.
"I could have taken him," Harry stabbed crossly, pulling away from Sirius' hold at last.
"I don't doubt it," Sirius quipped in reply. "But I'd rather you not get expelled for breaking the nose of a little rat like Malfoy. Keep that temper of yours in check. That may have to be your responsibility I'm afraid, Hermione!"
"I'll do my best," Hermione smiled. "But if I punch Malfoy on the nose -"
"Then we will all cheer you and toast the event!" Sirius chuckled. "Now ... where is the Headmaster?"
"Right here, Sirius," Albus Dumbledore chimed from behind them. Harry wondered just how long he'd been standing there listening. He smiled benignly at them, as though Sirius' random appearance was just another quirk of a day at Hogwarts.
"So, what do you make of this, old man?" Sirius sighed, nodding at the scrawl on the wall. "Could the Chamber really be open again?"
"I'm sorry, but ... again?" Hermione asked. "Do you mean to say it has been opened before?"
"Indeed it has," Dumbledore smiled down at her, causing her to blush. "It was fifty years ago at least. We can only hope that the events then don't repeat themselves now."
"Why? What happened?" asked Harry.
"A number of Muggleborn students were attacked ... and there was a fatality," Dumbledore confessed solemnly. "I was already a teacher here, myself, at the time, but none of us were able to prevent what happened. The events ended as abruptly as they had begun. It was a simple demonstration of the power of the Heir of Slytherin, and what he could do to cause terror whenever he felt like it."
"And someone was killed?" Harry asked in horror. "A student was actually murdered?"
Dumbledore nodded his confirmation.
"And did you ever find out who was responsible?" Hermione pressed.
"Indeed ... it was the Heir of Slytherin," Dumbledore replied cryptically. "Only he has the power to open the Chamber, to unleash whatever it is that hides inside. All we can hope to do is find this evil when it emerges. Which is why Mr Black's arrival here is timely."
"It is?" asked Sirius, dubiously. "Why?"
"Merely so you can lead us to the victim of the fatality the last time the Chamber was opened," Dumbledore smiled. "I believe she was a girlfriend of sorts to you, during your time here."
Sirius drew in a shocked breath. "No ... not Myrtle!?"
Hermione giggled at Harry's side. He looked at her curiously. "What is it? What's so funny?"
"Your Godfather went out with Myrtle!" Hermione chortled. "Moaning Myrtle! She's the ghost that haunts the girl's loo on the second floor!"
Harry grinned up at Sirius. "You went out with a ghost that haunts a toilet! Why am I not surprised? That's just the sort of classy witch I'd expect to find with you!"
"Be quiet you," Sirius admonished, as Harry joined Hermione in peeling laughter. "Albus, explain what you mean, if you will."
"Myrtle was the unfortunate victim of whatever monster lurks in the Chamber," Dumbledore explained. "If it has indeed been opened again, I was rather hoping she might be able to lead us to the mythical entrance. And, if memory serves, you had her quite under your sway. We might need that sort of persuasion."
"Mmm," Sirius agreed. "She never was the most pliant of ghosts. Come on then, lead the way Hermione. This is one reunion I am not looking forward to!"
Harry rather thought it served Sirius right for being such a serial philanderer, but all thoughts of this were driven from his mind as they reached the disused bathroom. Hermione led the way inside, just in case one of the other girls of Hogwarts had been desperate enough for a wee to brave Myrtle's cries. But the place was silent ... even Myrtle was silent.
Then they all saw why.
"Oh my!" Hermione breathed.
"What ... what's happened to her!" Harry gasped as he came up next to Hermione.
For Moaning Myrtle was not like the ghosts he was used to seeing. Instead of pearly white and translucent, she was black and smoky, floating horizontally a few feet off the floor. The look on her face was one of startled shock and confusion, contorted with a dash of horror.
"Sirius ... is she?" Harry stuttered.
"Petrified," Dumbledore assessed in an instant. "There are only a few creatures capable of producing such an effect. And I shudder to think of the havoc any one of them could wreak in a school full of students."
"You should consider closing, send everyone home," Sirius advised.
"A matter out of my hands," Dumbledore returned. "In any case, we must be wise about spreading rumours that could lead to panic."
Sirius pulled Dumbledore to one side when he spoke again, but his whispers still carried in the echoey bathroom.
"Then you're convinced that the Chamber is open? That the last person who called themselves the Heir of Slytherin - that Voldemort - is somehow ... back?"
Harry felt Hermione snatch at his arm as she heard the proclamation too. Harry slid his hand over hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. It just seemed the right thing to do. When he tried to move it away again, though, Hermione caught his retreating fingers with her own and pulled them back, in a clear statement of stay where you are. So Harry obliged.
"I do not know so much that he is back," Dumbledore was saying. "But it certainly seems that he is here in some capacity. How he has managed the feat is something we need to investigate. And we must do so quickly."
"What do you think his goal is?" Sirius asked quietly.
Dumbledore flicked a concerned look at Harry and Hermione, his electric gaze dropping to their interlaced fingers a moment.
"I think we must assume his plan is for vengeance, for his failure to acquire the Philosopher's Stone last year ... and the reasons that thwarted him. And if he can spread chaos and further his agenda in the process, he will. The last time he opened the Chamber was little more than an arrogant display of his power, but he still attempted to purge the school of the Muggleborn population through his targeted attacks. Lord Voldemort was never particularly imaginative, so we may reasonably assume that he will simply attempt to repeat his previous actions."
"Then you must take steps to protect the Muggleborns," Sirius insisted. "Starting with that one."
He gave a pointed nod towards Hermione, but Dumbledore simply smiled back at him.
"I rather think that one is already well protected," Dumbledore offered, causing Harry to puff out his chest at the blatant inference. "In any case, it would be impossible to develop a Muggleborn-specific protection enchantment. These are children, my dear Sirius. They cannot be so selectively fireproofed."
Sirius huffed in his concern. "I suppose you are right. But I have to insist that you focus all your efforts on finding this Chamber. We may be able to guess what sort of monster lurks inside, but you have to stop it from entering the school and becoming a danger."
"Quite," Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "And I assure you that I will. But come now, let us get Miss Myrtle to somewhere more secluded. I imagine half the school is already aware of her fate, let us not make a spectacle of educating the ignorant half."
That night, Harry and Hermione were part of a gaggle of Second Years clustering around the roaring fire of the Common Room. Ron and Seamus were engaged in a fierce battle on the Wizard's Chess board, while Dean, Lavender and Parvati played rounds of Exploding Snap nearby. Fay Dunbar was giving Hermione a French Manicure, as she spell-checked Harry's History of Magic essay. Harry was - in turn - reading over Hermione's Potions assignment, which was on the complicated Polyjuice Potion, and wondering what it would be like to become another person for the day.
"Were those Neville's parents I saw him with earlier?" Fay was asking, blowing on the nail varnish she'd just applied to Hermione's index finger to dry it.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh nothing, I just thought they were in St Mungo's, that's all," Fay explained. "Some sort of mental damage."
"They were, but they've been undergoing some experimental treatment and it seems to be working," Hermione invented. "Harry - you've spelt Emeric the Oddball wrong again. There's only one 'm' in Emeric."
"Are you sure?" Harry quirked over the top of Hermione's Potions essay. She simply rolled her eyes as if affronted by the question. Harry grinned at his gentle teasing. "If you say so. But maybe that's just the way I want to spell it!"
"Well I could always leave it like that," Hermione replied sniffily. "Just don't come crying to me when Binns marks you down for it."
Harry chuckled as Hermione corrected the mistake with her quill. Fay grinned up at them from the floor.
"Glad to see you two are back to normal," she remarked. "It was weird when you were being all ... weird."
"I blame Hermione," Harry quipped from behind the safety of the parchment in his hands.
"I blame Hermione, too," Hermione agreed sadly. "It was all Lockhart, getting into my head with that stupid diary. I hope you've stopped writing in yours, Fay."
"I never did to start with," Fay replied bluntly. "I don't want it getting out that I'm planning to invite Neville to the Halloween dance."
"You're asking Neville?" Hermione queried.
"I was going to," Fay confirmed. "Why ... were you thinking of asking him?"
Harry snapped the Potions essay down and glared at Hermione, waiting for her answer. She curled a smile to her lips.
"Well, no-one's asked me yet, so I might have done," Hermione replied lightly, enjoying the scandalised look on Harry's face a moment. "But I wouldn't be embarrassed about going with Neville."
"Embarrassed? Who said I was embarrassed?" Fay shot back.
"You just said you wouldn't want it getting out that you were going to ask him," Hermione explained.
"Oh. No, I just meant I wouldn't want anyone to beat me to it," said Fay. "Neville's a bit dishy this year. I bet lots of girls will be interested in asking him. So, are you going to ask him, Hermione? It might be quite funny to make him choose between us!"
Hermione giggled. "Yes, I suppose it would. It depends if I have any other options, really."
"Right, let's settle this," Harry cut in crossly. "Hermione - will you go to the Halloween Dance with me?"
Half the room seemed to go silent at Harry's question. He looked at them all in turn, scowling as he did so.
Hermione blushed but kept her composure. "Of course I will, Harry," she replied simply. The volume in the room returned to normal. "Thank you for asking me."
"I didn't think I had to," Harry told her, shaking his head. "I just assumed we'd go together, like last year."
"To assume is 'to make an ass out of u and me'," Hermione explained haughtily. She giggled when Harry didn't get the joke at all. "I was just teasing, Harry. Of course I was going to go with you. Last year was fun. Let's just hope we don't run into any twelve-foot trolls this time, though!"
"Yeah, that sort of thing really puts a dampener on the evening!" Harry grinned, then went back to reading Hermione's essay in peace. Fay and Hermione shared a knowing smirk, rolling their eyes at each other once Harry couldn't see.
Later that night, when the Gryffindor girls were all getting ready for bed, Fay resumed their conversation about the diary.
"So," Fay was saying. "Any luck finding the thief?"
"No, none," Hermione complained bitterly. "Whoever it was must have used some powerful magic to get past the Recognition Enchantment, though."
"I know we've already gone over this, but none of us let anyone in," Lavender reassured her. "We promise."
"Yeah," Parvati nodded vigorously. "The secrets of the Dorm Seven Girls stay in Dorm Seven."
"Thanks, girls," Hermione smiled. "I appreciate your support."
"We stick together in here," Lavender replied stoutly. "Our secrets belong to all of us, and we have to work together to protect them."
"And find who stole yours, Hermione," Fay frowned. "But where to start?"
"It's either a powerful witch or a magical creature," Hermione remarked. "One powerful enough to get around the magic of Hogwarts."
"That has an interest in you?" Parvati asked, skeptically. "I think a witch is more likely."
"Me, too," Hermione agreed. "But I don't want to overlook anything."
"What was in the diary, that someone might have wanted?" Fay pressed. "Can you think of anything specific?"
"Juicy secrets about a certain boy with a scar that we all know, obviously!" Lavender giggled, causing Hermione to flush furiously.
"Secrets that you told to Lockhart!" Parvati added, curling her face in disgust. "I cant believe he knows all our secrets! I feel violated!"
"But he didn't make you act all obsessed with him, did he?" Hermione mumbled. "He reserved that special treatment for me."
Hermione bit her lip in her anxiety. Her first act, after learning about what her diary had done to her, was to quiz her fellow dorm witches about theirs. And while their diaries behaved in the same way as hers in some aspects, none had fed back into them and taken over their minds. Hermione was glad of that, but it served to ratchet up the horror of her own traumatizing possession.
"He's a creep," Fay spat. "I hope he gets what's coming to him one day."
"Do you think he could have stolen the diary?" asked Lavender.
"Why would he need to?" Parvati pointed out. "If he already knows what's in it?"
"Maybe he knew that Hermione had broken the enchantment he put on her, so wanted to get rid of the evidence," Lavender suggested thoughtfully.
"You know, that's not a bad shout," Fay nodded. "Hey - you don't think he could have opened the Chamber of Secrets, do you?"
"Pfft!" Hermione laughed. "Not a chance. I wouldn't trust him to open a packet of biscuits that was already open! He wouldn't be able to open the Chamber of Secrets even if you gave him a copy of The Idiot's Guide on How to Open the Chamber Of Secrets - Junior Illustrated Edition! Besides, why would he even want to?"
"I don't know ... to use as some sort of boudoir?" Fay suggested darkly. "If it was secret, he could do all sorts of sordid things down there and no-one would know."
Hermione shuddered at the possibility. It was far-fetched and unlikely, but the thought that she might have ended up in such a place sent a thrill of icy dread prickling across her skin. She may have escaped his clutches just in time.
"I ... I still don't think it's Lockhart," Hermione stuttered uncertainly.
"Well, there's always the other rumour," Lavender began cautiously.
"What rumour?" asked Hermione. She wasn't sure she liked Lavender's tone just then.
Lavender took a steadying gulp of air. "The rumour that it's you ... that you opened the Chamber. That you're the Heir of Slytherin."
Hermione blinked in her abject surprise. "What? Don't be so ridiculous! Who said that?"
"It's true," Parvati nodded glumly. "I heard a couple of Third-Year Claws talking about it during choir practice earlier. They say that you were the only one who ever used that loo on the Second Floor. And that's where Myrtle was attacked."
"Add to that that you're unusually gifted with magic, and you can see how a rumour like that could start," Lavender added.
"I am not Slytherin's Heir!" Hermione cried. "How could I be?"
"He lived over a thousand years ago, Hermione," Fay pointed out gently. "For all we know ... you could be."
Hermione, of course, knew it was impossible. She came from another world, after all. But there were doorways, passages between them. Could she be the Heir of Slytherin? She was assuming that she could talk to snakes simply because Voldemort had possessed her for a time using the dream diary, but what if she was mistaken?
It certainly didn't make for an easy night's sleep.
As Halloween grew closer, people became more interested in the celebrations than the attack on Myrtle. The girls of the castle began to say it served her right for moaning all the time, and that whatever had attacked her must have just gotten as fed up of her as the rest of the school.
Some people even started thanking Hermione for shutting the ghost up when they passed her in the corridors. They went as far as asking her to use her ghost-attacking powers on Peeves next, especially when he started singing the stupid school anthem around the classrooms just for something to annoy them with. Hermione soon got bored of the continual references to her being the Heir of Slytherin, though, finally snapping at Harry when he suggested they went to the Halloween dance in matching Green and Silver robes ...
The party itself was a sore point with Hermione for another reason, too. A reason distinctly Sally-Anne Perks-shaped. For the Hufflepuff girl had asked Harry to go to the dance with her not once, but three times. Harry politely refused on each occasion, pointing out that he was already going with Hermione. Not taking this as an acceptable reason to be rejected, Sally-Anne had then spent the entire week trying to persuade Harry to ditch Hermione and take her to the dance instead.
This came to a head at the end of the week when, during their joint Charms lesson, the two girls had a blazing row about the situation that almost led to them drawing wands on each other. It was only stopped when Professor Flitwick cast Silencing Charms on them both - which just happened to be the Charm they were trying to learn that day - and sent them to opposite ends of the room to cool off.
"Dont let her get to you," said Harry, as he tried to calm Hermione later on. "This time tomorrow the party will be done and dusted and it's really not worth getting detention over, is it?"
Hermione huffed crossly. "No, I suppose not, Ooh, I just hope that monster in the Chamber has eyes for her!"
"You don't really mean that," Harry told her quietly.
"Okay, maybe I don't," Hermione pouted. "But if she so much as thinks about trying to cut in when we're dancing later, I might just set a basilisk on her myself!"
"That's my evil Heir!" Harry teased, laughing despite the murderous look Hermione was giving him.
The Halloween feast was spectacular, the decorations more so. Huge pumpkins adorned the walls, giant cobwebs crept from the nooks and crannies and live bats fluttered high up on the enchanted ceiling.
For Harry, though, the most spectacular thing of the evening was Hermione, who looked so pretty in a floaty, periwinkle blue gown that Harry found he could hardly look directly at her. This was very weird, and he told Neville and Fay all about it as they took a rest between songs.
"I think I can confidently say that I'm dancing with the prettiest girl in the room," Harry told them as they sat down. "But, in a way, I find it hard to look at her. Why do you think that is?"
Fay looked at him fondly. "Maybe she's too much of a good thing."
"Maybe," Harry mused. "I don't want her to think I'm ignoring her though, by not looking at her. I don't want her to be cross with me again. But it's hard. She's almost too pretty tonight, if that makes any sense."
"No, it doesn't," Neville guffawed. "How can someone be too pretty? You're either pretty, or you're not."
"Do you think I'm pretty?" Harry laughed.
"No!"
"I hate you, Neville," Harry wailed in mock hurt.
Then the mood changed, as Fay pointed out a scene over near the pumpkin juice fountain.
"What's Hannah Abbott so upset about?" Fay queried. "She's crying her eyes out over there."
They soon found out. The music was abruptly stopped and an announcement was made that all students were to return to their rooms immediately. Cue uproar and complaints, that were only silenced by several cracks from Dumbledore's wand. Harry jumped up and made his way over to Professor McGonagall, who was holding tightly onto Hermione's shoulder and trying to comfort Hannah at the same time.
"What's going on?" Harry demanded as he reached them. "Why are we being sent back to our dorms?"
"There's been another attack," Professor McGonagall whispered. "On a student this time."
Then Hannah burst into another round of tears and shrieked so half the Hall could hear -
"It was her, it was Granger! She did it!" Hannah sobbed. "She set her monster onto Sally-Anne! I heard her say she wanted to kill her, and now she has! My best friend is dead!"
"I haven't, Harry! I swear it!" Hermione whined in panic. "Professor McGonagall, please ..."
"You will have to explain this to the Headmaster," Professor McGonagall replied sternly.
"But Auntie Min!" Harry protested. "You cant think Hermione killed someone! Surely not! She's been with me all night."
"Miss Perks is not dead ... merely Petrified, Harry."
Harry looked up as the lyrical voice of Dumbledore reached his ears. He turned to face him, his heart pounding again now that he knew Hermione wouldn't be executed for murdering Sally-Anne. But what if she was expelled for the attack? She would probably think that was worse. Harry knew he had to try and do something.
"Sir, you have to believe -"
"All I have to do, Harry, is to understand the events that have taken place here tonight," Dumbledore cut across gently. "And I am rather hoping that you and Miss Granger can help to provide some insight into them. So, if you please, come with me."
Harry looked at Hermione in a show of solidarity. She took a rattling breath, then followed the Headmaster from the Great Hall.
