Chapter 13

BREAKING NEWS

Two well dressed, conventionally attractive smiling news anchors in their thirties, sat behind a long polished glass desk. Large, unnaturally wide smiles frozen on their faces, as they stared into the camera with a dead eyed gaze.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled scrolling to bring you this breaking news." The man said, his mouth moving like a puppet's would.

"This past year we lost our dear Author, WhitePhoenix." The woman began, her own mouth moving much like her partner's.

"Quit telling everyone I'm dead!" A voice shouted from off camera.

"Sometimes, we can still hear her voice." The man said. His perfectly quaffed hair shining under the stage lights. Almost blindingly bright.

There was a commotion off set, before the camera suddenly shook. The Author stood far too close for it to be casual. Almost too close for comfort. Her eyes wide, hair greasy, clothes rumpled and dirty.

"Don't listen to them!" The Author warned, shouting over the noise of dozens of people yelling. "I'm not dead! I haven't forgotten you! Don't forget me!"

The Author was then tackled, and the camera wrenched from her grasp. A dozen men in black surrounded her, as she kicked and screamed. One grabbed her around the middle and lifted her up off of her feet, while another grabbed her legs. However, this gave the Author an opportunity. With all of her strength, she thrust the soles of her feet into the chest on the agent holding her legs. Quickly followed by slamming the back of head into the nose of the agent holding her up off the ground. With that she was quickly dropped.

The rest of the agents then dove on top of her, in an effort to pin her to the ground. They were so busy fighting, and tackling somebody that they failed to see the Author wiggle out from under the dog pile.

"There she is!" An agent yelled, pointing after her after the Author had already run off screen. The rest of the agents sprint after her, their sunglasses not moving an inch.

There was a sound of a metal door being thrown open, as the Author gleefully yelled "Liberté!"

Back in the NewsRoom, the news anchors sat staring dead eyed into the camera, with their too wide frozen smiles. As they had been doing the entire time. Not having moved an inch throughout the entire commotion.

"And now, back to you dear reader." The woman said, her teeth gleaming. Looking more like a shark than a human.

"It's dinner time!" Peter and Shuri said together. Very, loudly.

The food appeared on the tables, and when servings of Spinach Puffs were also served, Peter, Shuri, and Clint screamed in excitement.

Toni clutched her ear, and leaned away from Peter, "Kid there are people sitting right next to you, like me, please don't scream. Ow." Toni rubbed her ear.

"I'm so sorry Ms Stark." Peter said, his face falling into a look you would usually only see on worried and anxious dogs.

"It's okay kid, just try not to do it again."

"Okay." Peter nods his head up and down quickly a few times. Toni could almost see a big pair of floppy ears sitting on top of his head.

Peter stopped nodding his head to grab food, and it was as he was eating that he noticed something. Something that gave him pause.

"Pete, you going to eat?" Steve asked, behind his mountain of food.

"Why do we all have to sit at the same tables?" Peter asked thoughtfully. Dinner ground to a halt as everyone looked up from their plates to stare at Peter. "What? Hasn't anyone ever noticed that everyone sits at the same table?"

"And Harry seems to be the only one to be able to move between them without difficulty." Shuri said, contemplatively.

"Yes, exactly! It's almost as if…"

The adults of the room shared a silent conversation with one another that lasted for all of half a minute. Then, almost as one they pushed away from the tables they sat at.

"Attention students," McGonagall said authoritatively. "We need everyone to take a step back from their respective tables, and move up against the walls."

The moment that the students were out of the way, Bill, Loki, and Dr Strange got to work, along with several other Hogwarts teachers and Luna. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood off to the side with the rest of the adults. Ron stuck close to his family, while Harry and Hermione hovered around those inspecting the tables.

Once they completed their assessment, stepping away from the tables, they began debating amongst themselves. Deciding on the correct course of action. Loki stood there, off to the side, mind numbingly BORED. This whole "book reading" thing, is the most interesting, non violent thing he's done in quite some time.

After a whole five minutes, Loki can't take it anymore. And with a causal wave of his hand the enchantments on the tables, troubling everyone, were eradicated. All eyes turned to him as they realized what he had done.

"What?" Loki said, "It was just a decades old layered compulsion spell. It wasn't that difficult to get rid of."

"Do we know who put it there?" McGonagall asked, her lips pinched.

"Who do you think Professor?" Bill said darkly, pointing to a certain door at the back of the Great Hall. Madam Bones made a note of it.

Slowly, people started making their way back to the tables. Only now, with the compulsion spells removed, they were free to move about the cabin, so to speak. Friends sitting amongst friends, not caring what their House was. The most interesting addition to the Gryffidor table however, is James and Lily, and Toni and Steve. Sitting on either side of Harry. Bracketing him in with love and comfort. Protecting Harry, as parents should.

Chapter Thirteen: The Very Secret Diary

Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumors about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.

Hermione buried her face in her hand, Karen, I-I mean Pansy and her mean girl laughed at her.

"Hey Pugsy!" Ron yelled across the Hall, glaring at Pansy and her clique. "Shut it!"

Parkinson didn't respond beyond throwing a sneer their way.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them so much homework, Harry thought Easter would be here before he finished it. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined towards Filch's voices, which sounded quite hysterical.

"- even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore -"

Conspiratorial whispers broke out throughout the Hall. Interspersed with the beginnings of gossip.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splash onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…."

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

A great clapping echoed off the walls, as everyone, even Harry, slapped their foreheads. Harry smashed his head on the table for good measure.

He said the wrong thing.

"You don't say." Harry said sarcastically.

Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know…. I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out…."

Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the cover told him it was fifty years old. On the first page he could just make out the name "T. M. Riddle" in smudged ink.

All the blood drained from McGonagall's face at the mention of the name, while Hagrid seemed to have the complete opposite reaction. Something that those around her noticed.

"Minnie…" James said gently.

"Hagrid?" said Harry.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"Who's T. M. Riddle?" Zacharias Smith called across the hall.

McGonagall shook her head, silencing everyone and their questions, even as things slowly seemed to click into place like puzzle pieces. Almost afraid to look over in Hagrid's direction.

"Hang on," said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name…. T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement.

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

Hagrid's fists clenched his knees, as he swallowed the growl threatening to become audible.

"He must've been Muggle-born," said Harry thoughtfully. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…."

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose."

"RONALD!" Mrs Weasley shouted in outrage. Even as Hagrid stood up, pushing both his chair and the table away from him. Stomping back to teacher's quarters, and not being seen again until the end of the book.

Harry however, pocketed it.

"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ron. "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry."

"I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it," said Harry. " I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."

"Could've been anything," said Ron. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor…."

"RON!"

"What!" Ron said, trying to defend himself, even as he and many others glanced back at the teacher's door. "It was 'future me' not 'me me'!"

But Mrs Weasley's scandalized look remained.

But Harry could tell from the arrested look on Hermione's face that she was thinking what he was thinking.

"What?" said Ron, looking from one to the other.

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" he said. "That's what Malfoy said."

"Yeah…" said Ron slowly.

"And this diary is fifty years old," said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.

"So?"

"Oh, Ron, wake up," snapped Hermione. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything - where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it - the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"That's a brilliant theory, Hermione," said Ron, "with just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written in his diary."

But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag.

"It might be invisible ink!" she whispered.

She tapped the diary three times and said, "Aparecium!"

NOthing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said.

She rubbed hard on January First. Nothing happened.

A fouth year Hufflepuff shrugged, "It was worth a shot."

"Nancy, there could be advanced spells and enchantments on the diary that they haven't tried yet." Nancy's Ravenclaw friend said.

"Yes Clara," Nancy said, "But what are the chances that they, three second years, know any of them?"

"Good point." Clara nodded, conceding the point to her friend.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February Fourteenth. Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he'd walked through the wrong doors.

"Oh no," Remus muttered. "What did that idiot do?"

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

Hermione's, "Oh those poor dwarfs! Why would he do that to them!" was drowned out by the roaring laughter as everyone pictured it. Only a smattering of people refrained from laughing.

"My friendly, card-carrying caupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Mr Flitwick buried his face in his face. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be forced-fed poison.

Flitwick and Snape's in person reaction was exactly as the book describes it to be. Children all over were shrinking away from Snape's glare, even as the few brave(read:stupid) ones were thinking about how to go about pilfering Snape's stores.

Harry got an odd feeling run down his back that, at some point in the future, he was going to be pilfering Snape's stores…again. Giving his head a small shake, Harry pushed the feeling to the back of his mind.

"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice as Percy Weasley arrived.

Losing his head, Harry tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.

"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here's your singing valentine:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

The Great Hall shook with uproarious laughter once more. Malfoy even stood up on his seat in an attempt to mock Harry. Only to have Loki use his magic from where he sat, to force back into his chair. They glared at each other, until Malfoy gave in, looking away with a pout. The laughter all the while, had not stopped. Only now, they were laughing at Malfoy as well.

Harry leaned over to Toni and Steve hiding from the laughter that was starting to sound mocking, and said, "Can I go and live with you guys? I need to leave the country…. And possibly change my name."

Toni and Steve shared a look, before Toni said to Harry, "Let's talk after the chapter."

It wasn't until they had reached Mr Flitwick's class that Harry noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary. All his other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. He tried to point this out to Ron, but Ron was having trouble with his wand again; large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, and he wasn't much interested in anything else.

Bill, Loki, Stephen, and Wong all had thoughtful looks, and none of them liked where this was going.

Harry sat on his four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Harry loaded up his quill a second time, but before he could put quill to paper, he hesitated. After all, it was plain to see that there was some type of spell or enchantment on it. Harry had to be careful.

"Very smart Harry," said Mr Weasley. "As I've always said, 'Never trust anything, if you can't see where it keeps its brain.'"

"..."

"What?"

"He has a point," said Toni, nodding slowly. "It's the same thing with machines. If you don't know how a machine works, don't go dicking about."

"What?!"

"Yeah. That's how poor Carl lost his dick."

"..."

Toni looked at all the horrified faces looking up at her, and her lips began to twitch. Biting down on her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Well," Harry muttered, "that's one way to get Rocky Mountain Oysters."

And with that, Toni couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. Tears ran down her face as struggled to breath properly. Giving Harry a high five for good measure. They waited a couple minutes for Toni to collect herself, before they were finally able to continue.

Thinking carefully, a plan formed. Followed by the quirking of his lips.

"Do you know, The Muffin Man?"

And all of the modern Muggle pop-cultural intellectuals were in danger of injury.

A busted gut.

All the while, everyone else looked on in confusion.

"Gingy!" Called two sixth years.

"Wha' are ya doin' in ma swamp?!" Seamus bellowed.

"But I am outside!" said Dean.

Each new comment only served to confuse the uncultured, making the whole thing even funnier. Many a geek were on the edge of their seat as the following conversation took place.

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Harry had never written.

"The Muffin Man?"

Excitable gasps sprung up around the Hall, which were quickly shushed with equal fervor.

These words, too, faded away, but not before Harry had started to scribble back.

"The Muffin Man."

He waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.

"Yes, I know The Muffin Man. Who lives on Drury Lane?"

Harry could barely keep his hand from shaking as he wrote.

Many around the Hall could barely keep from shaking themselves. Clamping their hands over theirs and their neighbor's mouths to keep them from making any noise. Some, like the loud mouth Zacharias Smith, had multiple keeping him quiet.

"Well, she married to, The Muffin Man."

"The Muffin Man?!"

Zacharias wrenched the hands off his face, to practically scream, "THE MUFFIN MAN!"

"SMITH!" indignant Shrek fans yelled.

No one knew who threw the first bread roll. Hogwarts veterans suspected the Weasley twins. While most of those who came with the Avengers suspected Loki. Both were wrong.

Throwing food always resulted in gravy and other horrors mashed into one's hair and clothes. No, food fights were much too juvenile for Loki. And while Fred and George would have liked to claim that they were the first, they were not. They were, however, the second to start throwing food.

Soon the entire Hall was slinging food, they started with using magic to toss the food. But, seeing some of the adults, seeing Thor, pike a quiche at Captain America's head, and the splat that came after…. It wasn't long before every single person had tucked their wands away. Because there was nothing more satisfying than hitting your enemy in the face with a handful of rice pudding, or pouring a pitcher of pumpkin juice over your friends.

The Gryffindor's and Slytherin's pitching mashed potatoes, and pudding over the tables in the effort to hit their arch nemesis square in the face. The Ravenclaws were very efficient as they trebuchets and ballistas out of the little material they had. Using it to launch the food at their targets. The Hufflepuffs were exceptionally good at keeping the fight going. Knowing who to hit, and when, to make it last longer.

Toni, Peter, and Shuri were doing much the same as the Ravenclaws. Only there they weren't making simple trebuchets or ballistas. These were full on, food missiles. The Marauders are never ones to turn down a food fight, so they were in the thick of it. Steve and Bucky fell back on old war time tactics, covering each other's backs. Bucky disappeared into the rafters with a dish of green beans, there he sniped people who took potshots at his friends. The dishes refilled themselves, never realizing that their hosts were enjoying the show just as much as they were participating. Stephen and Wong using their sling rings return the food thrown at them to sender.

The food fight came to a stand still as everyone stared wide eyed at McGonagall and Fury, as a strawberry tart slid down her face. Fury having been hit with the splatter, standing next to her. Whispers breaking out, wondering who threw it. Only for the food fight to ramp up to eleven as they all saw Steve standing there, eyes wide, and arm extended.

McGonagall and Fury both stared at him, giving him the look, until they were both hit square between the eyes with a green bean. At which point, McGonagall and Fury, who had at that point stayed out of the food fight, gave each other a single look, grabbed a custard each, and lobbed it down the Hall. Nailing Steve. And all the while Filch stood in the middle of it all screaming, "MESSSSSS!"

Finally, after over an hour, the Great Food Fight of 2010, came to a close. Filch seethed as the tables were cleared, the Hall was scrubbed, and everyone was cleaned in a matter of seconds. Sitting back down, they all prepared to finish the chapter. Astonishingly, only three people came out of it without any need for a bath. Loki, Bucky, and Harry. Which everyone found a little surprising as almost everybody saw Harry pop in and out of the battle field.

"Where were we?" Hannah Abbot asked.

Susan Bones open her mouth to answer-

"THE MUFFIN MAN!" Harry scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.

"Oh yeah." Hannah and Susan giggled.

"She's married to The Muffin Man…"

Harry had to put his quill to the side as he flopped back to his pillows, laughing. Once he was able to breathe again, wiping the tears from his eyes, Harry sat back up and pulled the diary back towards him, just catching the fading words from Riddle.

"Might I know your name, for this information you've given me?"

Harry thought for a moment, before writing, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya."

"Ma-widge!"

"Ma-widge is what bbwings us to ge tha to day!"

Fred and George burst out laughing along with the rest of Gryffindor house.

"Hello, Inigo Montoya. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

He felt his feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking, as the blurred shapes around him came suddenly into focus.

He knew immediately where he was. This circular room with the sleeping portraits was Dumbledore's office - but it wasn't Dumbledore who was sitting behind the desk. A wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, was reading a letter by candlelight. When the light hit the man just right, he looked like the old man in the portrait that sits behind Dumbledore's desk.

"I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I didn't mean to butt in -"

But the wizard didn't look up. He continued to read, frowning slightly. Harry drew nearer to his desk and stammered, "Er-I'll just go, shall I?"

Still the wizard ignored him. He didn't seem even to have heard him. Looking around at the changes to the office since the last time he was in here, and at the different old man who sat behind a different desk. Harry could only come to one conclusion.

"Harry, you are not in Kansas any more." Harry muttered under his breath.

"Hey," Steve said, to those around him. "I understood that reference."

Bucky nodded in agreement, "It was almost disappointing that the dwarfs didn't sing, 'Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead', or 'Come out, Come out, Wherever You Are', or even 'We Thank You Very Sweetly'." Bucky sighed in disappointment.

Toni shook her head, and rolled her eyes. And she did it…dare she say it, but almost fondly? That can't be right. Right? Giving herself a quick shake, she tuned back into the conversation.

"Hey Dorothy!" called Zacharias laughing, "Where's Toto?!"

"Right here, Smith!" Sirius growled. Causing almost everyone to give him strange looks. Sirius turned away from the punk kid, to look at his friends. Remus had his head in his hands, while James had tucked his face in Lily's shoulder, while Lily buried her face into James' hair. All three were silently cackling at the image that had come to their minds.

Sirius leaned over to James, muttering threateningly in his ear, "You three even think about putting a bow in my hair, and there will be a repeat of April, 1979."

Lily finally lifted her head, only to give Sirius a smirk. Gasping softly saying oh so sarcastically, "What? Us? We'd never."

"Why do I not believe you?" Sirius said, deadpanned.

"Those are the instincts that have kept you alive, Pads." Remus whispered in Sirius' ear, straining to control his laughter. "You would do well to listen."

From the depths of Lily's shoulder, James' muffled, shaking voice could just be heard by his friends, "I always thought that he was more like Scooby."

"I hate all three of you." Sirius pouted, slumping in his seat.

"That's a strange way to say, 'I love you'." Harry piped up from the other side of Lily, his head, tilted to the side slightly. Dr Strange turned in their direction, thinking he heard his name. Only to find their group howling with laughter.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Enter," said the old wizard in a feeble voice.

A boy of about sixteen entered, taking off his pointed hat. A silver prefect's badge was glinting on his chest. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair.

"Ah, Riddle," said the headmaster.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" said Riddle. He looked nervous.

"Sit down," said Dippet. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh," Said Riddle. He sat down, gripping his hands together very tightly.

"My dear boy," said Dippet kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No," said Riddle at once. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that - to that-"

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dippet curiously.

"Yes, sir," said Riddle, reddening slightly.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir," said Riddle. "Muggle father, witch mother."

"And are both your parents -?"

"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me - Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."

"Why is this important?" Lavender mumbled.

"I don't know." Parvati shrugged. "Knowing Harry and his friends, they'll find a way to make it important."

Dippet clucked his tongue sympathetically.

"The thing is, Tom," he sighed, "special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…."

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" said Riddle, and Harry's heart leapt, and he moved closer, scared of missing anything.

"Precisely," said the headmaster. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy…the death of that poor little girl…. You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the - er - source of all this unpleasantness…."

"Now that's weird," Hermione commented, frowning. "Why is it that this Riddle guy had the possibility of special accommodations? Why is it, that if it hadn't been for the attacks on the school, that he would have been allowed to stay at school."

"But Dumbledore wouldn't let Harry stay over the summer?" Daphne continued along the same thread. "What reason does he have to keep Harry with those… 'people'?"

"Very suspicious." Ron said, nodding in agreement.

No one liked what they were inferring. But they shared looks all the same, they were not pleasant looks.

Riddle's eyes had widened.

"Sir - if the person was caught - if it all stopped -"

"What do you mean?" said Dippet with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," said Riddle quickly.

But Harry was sure it was the same sort of "no" that he himself had given Dumbledore.

"Don't be suspicious."

"Don't be suspicious!"

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"

Harry gaped at the wizard. He was none other than a fifty-years-younger Dumbledore.

"I had to see the headmaster, sir," said Riddle.

"Well, hurry off to bed," said , giving Riddle exactly the kind of penetrating stare Harry knew so well. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…"

"So, Dumbledore was a criminal even back then." A seventh year Gryffindor said, shaking his head in disgust.

"At least we can draw comfort in the fact that he's consistent." Shrugged the seventh year Ravenclaw sitting next to him.

"That's not the point."

Someone was creeping along the passage. He heard whoever it was pass the dungeon where he and Riddle were hidden. Riddle, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, Harry tip-toeing behind him, forgetting that he couldn't be heard.

For perhaps five minutes they followed the footsteps, until Riddle stopped suddenly, his head inclined in the direction of new noises. Harry heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon…gotta get yeh outta here…. C'mon now…in the box…"

There was something familiar about that voice….

The whispers began to spread once again, as they too felt they knew the voice.

Riddle suddenly jumped around the corner. Harry stepped out behind him. He could see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it.

"Evening Rubeus," said Riddle sharply.

Gasps rattled the Hall.

"Rubeus?!" students whispered to one another. "Hagrid?!"

The boy slammed the door shut and stood up.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"

Riddle stepped closer.

"It's all over," he said. "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

"What d'yeh-"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and -"

"It never killed no one!" said the large boy, backing against the closed door. From behind him, Harry could hear a funny rustling and clicking.

"Come on, Rubeus," said Riddle, moving yet closer. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered…."

"It wasn't him!" roared the boy, his voice echoing in the dark passage. "He wouldn'! He never!"

"Stand aside," said Riddle, drawing out his wand.

His spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind the large boy flew open with such force it knocked him into the wall opposite. And out of it came something that would've made Ron give a long and piercing scream -

A vast, low-slung, hairy body and tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a pair of razor-sharp pincers - Riddle raised his wand again, but he was too late. The thing bowled him over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight. Riddle scrambled to his feet, looking after it; he raised his wand, but the huge boy leapt on him, seized his wand, and threw him back down, yelling, "NOOOOOOO!"

Before he had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.

"There you are," he said.

Harry sat up. He was sweating and shaking.

"What's up?" said Ron, looking at him with concern.

"I-I not sure." Harry stammered through his heavy breathing. "Another puzzle piece, at least."

Harry finally got his breathing under control, looking up at Ron saying, "But, do I have a story to you and Hermione."

"Alright everyone!" McGonagall said, standing from her chair. "Now it is time for bed."

"Aw!"

"But-"

"No, off you go!" McGonagall said, shooing them all off the bed.

Toni and Steve, and Lily and James looked down at Harry smiling softly as he admirably tried to stay awake. Wanting to be close to Harry, but not wanting to embarrass him any more than they have today, they got him up from his seat and guided him to the doors. Into the quarters that they were given for their stay, and tucked into bed. Where Harry fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

(AN: I is back!)