(replaces part of chapter 14 of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. During their first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before they forgot the giant, three-headed dog he'd christened "Fluffy." And if, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, Harry was sure he'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it. He'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; Harry could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a leash and collar on it. But he was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.

Harry half wished he hadn't found out how to work Riddle's diary. Again and again Ron and Hermione made him recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long, circular conversations that followed.

"Riddle might have got the wrong person," said Hermione. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people..."

"How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?" Ron asked dully.

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Harry miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his award."

Ron tried a different tack.

"Riddle does sound like Percy - who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?"

"But the monster had killed someone, Ron," said Hermione.

"And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts," said Harry. "I don't blame him for wanting to stay here..."

"You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?"

"He was buying a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," said Harry quickly.

The three of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.

"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?"

"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ron. "'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'"

In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Harry. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing."

"I seriously don't understand why it took you this long to tell me about the diary," Ben stated. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were with Ben and Daphne in an abandoned classroom, working on deciding what classes to take next year the Saturday before Gryffindor's next Quidditch match. Wood had been insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework.

"Considering you've been saying nothing but 'I told you so' since January, I think you could understand our reluctance," Ron said.

"I've not been," Ben returned hotly. "Although we did tell you so, I've only brought it up once or twice in January and then I was done. Honestly, you're exaggerating, Ron."

Ron grumbled a little while Ben looked at the full name of Tom.

"Is something bothering you?" Daphne asked him.

"Something feels sinister about the name," Ben responded, not taking his eyes off the paper. "Tom Marvolo Rid … dle."

Harry looked up to notice Ben absolutely stunned by something. Daphne, Ron, and Hermione seemed to notice it, too. "What is - "

"Shush."

Ben started writing, muttering to himself. As he did, Harry grew more and more uncomfortable. When he finished, Ben, now pale-faced, placed the piece of paper in front of all of them and simply said one word. "Read."

Below the name Tom Marvolo Riddle, whose letters were crossed out, was one simple phrase: I am Lord Voldemort. Harry tore his wide eyes away from the page to see his shock and fear mirror on every other face at the table.

"He used an acronym for his moniker," Daphne stated. "That's actually rather clever."

"I think that, through that diary, he's the reason for the monster's release. Is it in a safe location?"

"Yes," Harry said. "It's in my trunk. I'll give it to Dumbledore after Quidditch practice."

Ben nodded. "Good. Now back to scheduling, I don't think you should join Divination unless you've got the gift of foresight or you're good at thinking non-logically, from what I've researched and heard."

Hermione seemed to swell slightly. "And who told you that?"

"Professor Trelawny, the teacher. She said her class isn't focused on books and is difficult for those without the gift."

"I'm signing up," Ron said, enthusiastic about the prospect of not needing books.

Ben shook his head in response. "Personally, I'm taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures. All of those have practical applications beyond Hogwarts and sound interesting. Enchantment, curse-breaking, spell-invention, wandlore, and more are rooted in those areas. Muggle Studies I already know and probably know better than the instructor, who isn't muggleborn and I've already said my piece for Divination, although studying the past predictions and how they impacted their future would be rather interesting."

Harry personally found what Ben said convincing so he, like Daphne, signed up for those classes as well. Besides that, if he was bad at them, then at least he had people in class that'd be able to help him. Ron decided to take Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Hermione signed up for them all, with much head-shaking from Ben and Daphne.

-Break-

After Quidditch practice, Harry went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better. He was going to grab the diary, give it to Dumbledore, and the crisis would be over, too.

But his cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, he met Neville Longbottom, who was looking frantic.

"Harry - I don't know who did it - I just found -"

Watching Harry fearfully, Neville pushed open the door.

The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor.

The bedclothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.

Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. As he and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly.

"What happened, Harry?"

"No idea," said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out. "Someone's been looking for something," said Ron. "Is there anything missing?"

Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. It was only as he threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.

"Riddle's diary's gone," he said in an undertone to Ron.

"What?"

Harry jerked his head toward the dormitory door and Ron followed him out. They hurried

down to the Gryffindor common room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called Ancient Runes Made Easy.

Hermione looked aghast at the news.

"But - only a Gryffindor could have stolen - nobody else knows our password -"

"Exactly," said Harry.

They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."

Harry had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the owner of Riddle's diary was right in front of his eyes. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, and Harry was seriously considering the idea. He didn't want to get another Gryffindor in trouble though. Ben had suggested some form of possession, meaning whoever it was wasn't at fault for colluding with Riddle.

As he left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and collect his Quidditch things, another very serious worry was added to Harry's growing list. He had just set foot on the marble staircase when he heard it yet again.

"Kill this time… let me rip… tear… "

He shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away from him in alarm. Ben, who was nearby, was also visibly startled.

"The voice!" said Harry, looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again - didn't you?"

Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

"Harry - I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

And she sprinted away, up the stairs, Ben following in toe, his eyes wide with inspiration, calling to Hermione to wait for him.

"What did they just figure out?" said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Loads more than I do," said Ron, shaking his head.

"But why's she got to go to the library?"

"Because that's what they do," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Harry stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"You'd better get moving," said Ron. "It's nearly eleven - the match -"

Harry raced up to Gryffindor Tower, collected his Nimbus Two Thousand, and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but his mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet robes in the locker room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game.

The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

Harry was just mounting his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

Harry's heart dropped like a stone.

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.

"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play - the cup - Gryffindor -"

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry over to her.

"Potter, I think you'd better come with me… "

Wondering how she could possibly suspect him this time, Harry saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley… "

Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Harry and Ron followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. But they weren't taken to anybody's office this time.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack… a triple attack."

Harry's insides did a horrible somersault. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and he and Ron entered… Madam Pomfrey was bending over a sixth-year girl with long, curly hair.

Harry recognized her as the Ravenclaw they'd accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was -

"Hermione!" Ron groaned.

Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy. And on the bed next to her was -

"Ben." A heartbroken voice from the doorway croaked. Harry turned from the still form of Ben, apparently paused mid-word, to see Daphne, tears streaming down her face as she was being led by a brunette who Harry vaguely remembered as Tracey Davis to his bedside.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them… "

She was holding up a small, circular mirror.

All of them shook their heads, not removing their eyes from their friends for long.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students in any case. Professor Snape will be along to do the same with you."

-Break-

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, two Ravenclaws, and one Hufflepuff, " said the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. "Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

"You weren't there," Ron croaked in response. "Two Slytherins were mourning one of those Ravenclaws. The heir could be among them, but not all of them deserve to be treated like that."

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

"Percy's in shock," George told Harry quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect."

But Harry was only half-listening. He didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Hermione, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, he was looking at a lifetime back with the Dursleys. Tom Riddle had turned Hagrid in because he was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school closed. Harry now knew exactly how he had felt.

"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly in Harry's ear. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

"We've got to go and warn him," said Harry, making up his mind. "I know it's not him this time and I doubt he did it last time, but if he was blamed for the monster last time he might know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class -"

"I think," said Harry, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again."

AN: This chapter is a bit unusual in that I am uploading this to early. Normally I upload, do final edits, and post on the same day, but I'm a bit bored, which is a rare thing for me. I'm able to be entertained by many easy things, such as reading or learning. Currently, I'm not 'feeling' anything that I'd want to do, but I'm going to try something. I'm probably going to edit the remaining chapters of the Chamber of Secrets, but I might combine them in order to better serve my story. Speaking of, I cut off my chapter here due to the fact that the visit to Hagrid wouldn't change.

Uploaded June 26th, 2020, Edited Jan 10th, 2025