"I wonder what a diary has to do with anything," Harry said.
Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumour 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.
"I think one of you would have mentioned if she was 'attacked'," Cedric said.
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.
"That goodness," Hermione said. She really did not want people to see her that way – it would most likely give people more of a reason to make fun of her than they probably already did.
Harry and Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they brought her each day's homework.
"Good," Hermione said. "I can't miss any work just because I'm in the hospital wing. I'm still alive, after all, and awake."
"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.
"Considering what we've heard about his so far, he doesn't need to sprout whiskers in order to take a break," Luna said.
"Besides, I've got to keep up," Hermione said. "Can't let myself slide when I can actually do the work."
"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown.
"You don't seem to change all that much," Harry said.
"I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.
"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.
"I don't think we're actually looking, though," Harry added, slightly disappointed.
"Well, you're worried about me, and, honestly, I think Ron's probably not helping look up anything or willing to look for another suspect, and the book you is probably not used the the library or what questions to ask anyway," Hermione said.
"That, and it'll probably look suspicious if he suddenly knew about that when he shouldn't," Luna said. "It would look suspicious if you did it as well, Hermione, as you're a well known friend of his, but you also have an advantage of being interested in knowing as much information as possible, so it won't look as suspicious as it would with Harry doing it."
"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.
"He must be complaining about it a lot," Cedric said.
"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.
"Something that she obviously wants hidden," Luna said. "And I can only think of one thing that she would want hidden from you."
"Something from Lockhart," Cedric said. "I don't think you would want them to see it, since you know how they feel about him, and how they would probably act if they knew."
"So the question then becomes when she got it," Harry said. "I mean, has she had it for a while, sleeping with it under her pillow, or did she just get it, moments before we arrived, and she just quickly shoved it out of the way so that we would hopefully not notice it?"
"I would go with the second one," Hermione said. "I probably would have it well hidden if I had it before, and I don't think I would want to risk ruining or losing it by actually sleeping with it underneath my pillow."
"Just a Get Well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her.
"Hasn't he heard of personal things," Hermione said, huffing. "And did you have to point it out," she added, looking straight at Harry.
"I was just curious," Harry said, shrugging. "I didn't go to grab it, though."
He pulled it out, flicked it open and read aloud:
"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."
"Geez, even when he's writing a get well card, he's conceited," Luna said, shaking her head.
Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.
"You sleep with this under your pillow?"
"I doubt it, but I still rather not speak to him about it," Hermione said.
But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.
"I got lucky there," Hermione said.
"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Harry as they left the dormitory and started up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.
"Have you noticed that he seems to be the first one to complain about Lockhart when it has to do with you?" Luna asked, looking at Hermione.
"Not really," Hermione said. "He complains about him a lot, anyway."
"True," Luna says. "However, when it comes to you, he does it more than he really needs to."
Snape had given them so much homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year 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,
"Because it's so hard to look it up yourself," Cedric said, scoffing.
"Apparently, it is," Hermione said.
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.
"What now? Do you think someone else has been attacked?" Harry asked. Everyone in the room tensed up at that.
"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.
They stood still, their heads inclined towards Filch's voice, 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 ..."
"Thank goodness," Harry said, as they all relaxed. Compared to what it could have been, simply being upset because he had more to clean was a bit of a blessing to them.
His footsteps receded and they heard a distant door slam.
They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: they were once again on the spot where Mrs Norris had been attacked.
"I get the feeling that there's water on the floor again," Hermione said, remembering how the scene looked last time.
They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.
"Now what's up with her?" said Ron.
"From the sounds of it, it's very doubtful she really needs a reason to be all upset," Hermione said.
"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its 'Out of Order' sign, ignored it as always, and entered.
"It's sad when you're so used to just entering the place that you ignore the fact that you're not supposed to be there," Harry said, shaking his head.
Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom, because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.
"You know, I've got to wonder exactly how she managed to flood the bathroom out," Cedric said. "I mean, it doesn't really make all that much sense."
Hermione looked like she was going to ask what he meant, then realized that there was probably magical way bathrooms were done and she could just ask him later; why Myrtle was overreacting was a bit more important than anything at the moment. Truthfully, she just wanted to know what the diary mentioned had to do with anything.
"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.
"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"
"This ghost is very sensitive, isn't she?" Harry said.
"Yeah, but who would want to throw something at her," Hermione said. "I mean, she seems to just stay in the bathroom and out of the way."
Harry waded across to her cubicle and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"
"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me ..."
"Why does she really care, anyway? I mean, it doesn't actually hurt her, does it," Harry said.
"I think it has more to do with her than anything. I mean, she couldn't have been that old physically when she died, and, well, people are age, especially girls, can get a little...cranky," Hermione said. "I mean, we do freak out sometimes for the stupidest reasons, and act stupid, too. I mean, look at book me and the crush on Lockhart. That right there is a sign of pure stupidity on my part. And, unfortunately, everything says that it'll eventually get worse with age and becoming a woman. She just never finished growing up."
"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?"
"That's the wrong thing to say, isn't it?" Harry said. Hermione nodded her head, able to just imagine how Myrtle was going to react to that.
He had said the wrong thing. 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!"
"It really isn't," Hermione said. "Even if she can't feel it."
"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.
"Yes, that is a good question," Luna said.
"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,
"Which means that it most likely wasn't done on purpose, and someone was trying to get rid of it," Cedric said.
glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out."
Harry and Ron looked under the sink, where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom.
"Well, it being wet like everything else does make sense, doesn't it?" Hermione said. "I mean, not only did it land through her head, while she was in the toilet, but she did flood the area because of it."
Harry stepped forward to pick it up,
"Not smart. It could be dangerous," Cedric said.
"How can a book be dangerous?" Hermione asked.
"How can a book scream at you?" Cedric shot back.
"Magic," Hermione said. He nodded.
"There are some books out there whose writers and/or previous owners put spells on them that can cause harm to you," Cedric said. "That's why you should always be careful with whatever book in the magical world you get, though those ones like that are usually not sold in shops that get a large venue of people in them."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Considering what some of them can do, it's smarter not to leave them lying around where anyone, especially children, can pick them up," Cedric answered.
but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.
"What?" said Harry.
"Are you mad?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."
"Dangerous?" said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"
"Didn't we just have a conversation like this," Luna said.
"Somehow, I don't think it'll be so surprising if we run into other times when we discuss something that'll be mentioned a bit later in the book a few times," Hermione said. "It makes sense that we might do that a few times."
"You'd be surprised," said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated – Dad's told me – there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And –"
"Lovely," Hermione said. She looked at Cedric. "Are those all true?"
"Yes," Cedric said. "All but the last one. It was actually just a book that was hard to put down, and never seemed to end. From what I know, that old witch was able to put it down now and then, she just preferred not to, which freaked out her son, who thought it might have been for some other reason."
"So, basically, it was the ideal book," Hermione said. "One that you just wanted to read and never let it end." Her voice sounded extremely wistful at that; she loved getting lost into a book.
"I take it that the son couldn't understand why his mother like to read the book," Harry said.
"Pretty much," Cedric said.
"All right, I've got the point," said Harry.
"I think I have to wonder if the last one was actually spelled or if she just really liked the book. Plus, it does sound a bit ridiculous, especially coming from him. I mean, he doesn't seem to be the type who likes to read a whole lot," Harry said.
The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.
"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," he said, and he ducked round Ron and picked it off the floor.
"Just be careful. There had to be a reason why the book was thrown away after all," Cedric said.
Harry saw at once that it was a diary,
"I guess we know what diary it was talking about in the title, then," Hermione said. "But what would make it very secret..."
and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old.
That got everyone attention.
"Do you think..." Hermione started asking.
"Possibly," Luna said.
"But why throw it away, then?" Harry said.
"And why in the one bathroom people would most likely avoid?" Cedric said. They all thought about it for a moment.
"Maybe it doesn't have information about the Chamber, because I can't see someone throwing that way if it did," Hermione said. "Or, maybe, it was just bought fifty years ago, and only now just being used."
"Maybe," Harry said, not quite sure which of the two ideas he was saying it for.
He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name 'T. M. Riddle' in smudged ink.
"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."
"I'm rather curious as to know what he got it for," Hermione said. "Do you think he found the person who opened the chamber last time?"
"Possible, but then how would it be opened now, since, if the person who opened it last time was caught, and I can't see them being allowed to interact with anyone who might be able to continue that work if they were," Cedric said. "Unless they weren't thrown in Azkaban or they were released."
"What I want to know, is how did he remember that this Riddle got an award for special services to the school," Harry said. "He doesn't strike me as the type to remember things like that."
"Well, he did mention having a slug attack during his detention," Hermione said. "That award could have been the one he had the attack over. I don't think anyone would be able to easily forget a name if they were reading it over and over."
"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement.
"I think book me knows that him remembering that is surprising, especially since I don't think it has anything to do with school work," Harry said.
"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."
"It appears that your right," Cedric said to Hermione.
"It was the only thing that really made sense, with what we've been told about Ron so far," Hermione said.
Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even 'Auntie Mabel's birthday', or 'dentist, half past three'.
"He never wrote in it," Luna said, slightly disappointed.
"Well, we can see why someone threw it away," Cedric said. "It's kind of worthless."
"But why throw it away in Myrtle's bathroom?" Hermione asked. It was kind of bugging her, since it didn't really make sense to throw it away there, unless the person was there, and considering the fact that most people avoided that bathroom, that didn't make much sense.
"He never wrote in it," said Harry, disappointed.
"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" said Ron curiously.
"That's what I want to know as well," Hermione said.
Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a newsagent's in Vauxhall Road, London.
"So, whoever owned it was either Muggleborn or Muggle-raised," Hermione said.
"Muggle-raised," Harry said, looking bemused.
"Yeah, kind of like you are," Hermione said. "I mean, both of your parents are wizards, so you can't be called Muggleborn, but you grew up with Muggles, so, so your Muggle-raised."
"He must've been Muggleborn," said Harry thoughtfully, "to have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road ..."
"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron.
"You should keep it," Cedric said. "I mean, just because there seems to be nothing written in it doesn't mean that it's true. Whoever wrote in it could have spelled it to hide what's written."
He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose."
"He's cruel," Hermione said, frowning.
Harry, however, pocketed it.
Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less and fur-free, at the beginning of February.
"That'll make me very happy," Hermione said.
"Well, at least now you'll know what to avoid should you actually have to do this," Cedric said.
On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T. M. Riddle's diary and told her the story of how they had found it.
"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.
"Just another interesting clue for you, isn't it?" Harry asked. She nodded.
"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ron.
"Well, why else would someone spell something to hide it's secrets," Cedric said, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry."
"Because, however dubious it might seem, it is a clue," Hermione said. "Especially if it does have a spell in it hiding it's secrets."
"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.
"Not quite; I've heard you have to do something extreme that would save the school and it's students," Cedric said. "To get one is supposed to be an honor, and it doesn't happen often – at least, I've never seen many of those trophies around the room. Then again, I was more interested in those that had to do with Quidditch than anything."
"Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s"
"That's impossible since the school doesn't offer enough classes to get that many O.W.L.s," Cedric said.
"or saved a teacher from the giant squid."
"While that idea has a bit more credibility to it, I don't think that's enough to get an award like that," Hermione said. "From the sounds of it, they're not exactly common, so just anything won't work for getting one."
"Maybe he murdered Myrtle, that would've done everyone a favour ..."
"That wouldn't have gotten an award, that would have gotten a expulsion and a jail sentence," Harry exclaimed.
"He think murdering someone would be a good thing," Hermione said. "I'm not sure I want to be friends with someone who can say something like that so thoughtlessly."
"I wonder if your book selves really caught that," Luna said. "Considering you're reactions right now, you would have said something if they did."
"Why would it mention it if we didn't catch it?" Harry asked.
"Well, you could have been listening, but, at the same time, been more interesting in thinking up your own ideas on how he got it that you missed what was said at the same time," Cedric said.
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.
"That's probably weird to him, seeing that you two are having the same idea," Luna said.
"Yeah, he probably only sees something like that with his twin brothers," Cedric said.
"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, that's rather annoying," Hermione said. "It kind of rather obvious on what we're thinking."
"Oh, Ron, wake up," snapped Hermione.
"You don't seem to have much patience for him," Luna said.
"No, I don't," Hermione said, shrugging.
"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?"
"That would make sense, since it does fit in with the requirements to getting an award," Cedric said.
"His diary would probably tell us everything: where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it."
"Now that's a bit farfetched," Harry said. "I think there wouldn't be so much mystery around the chamber if that was true."
"True," Hermione conceded. "I guess I'm excited that it might hold something that I'm just getting ahead of myself."
"The person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"
"They would have destroyed it if that was the case, though," Cedric said. "Even if there is a spell on it, the chance of someone being able to break it would make it a bit risky to just throw it away."
"That's a brilliant theory, Hermione," said Ron, "with just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written in his diary."
"You know, considering that he lives in the magical world and the example of books with spells on them that he gave, he shouldn't discount that just because there seems to be nothing written it means that there really is nothing written like he does," Cedric said.
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 the first'.
"Oh, I hate diaries like that," Hermione said. "When it puts the date on the top, like it's saying that you can only write what happened that day instead of just opening to the first blank page and writing whatever you want without writing on the the wrong date."
Nothing happened.
"If there is a spell, then it's a strong one," Cedric said.
"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."
Harry couldn't explain, even to himself, why he didn't just throw Riddle's diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absent-mindedly picking it up and turnng the pages, as though it was a story he wanted to finish.
"That sounds...odd," Hermione said.
And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he'd had when he was very small, and half-forgotten.
"And that sounds even odder," Harry said. "I don't have any friends, at least, not until I came here."
"Though, in the book, it's not until you went to Hogwarts," Luna said.
But this was absurd. He'd never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.
Nevertheless, Harry was determined to find out more about Riddle, so, next day at break, he headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle's special award, accompanied by an interested Hermione and a thoroughly unconvinced Ron, who told them he'd seen enough of the trophy room to last him a lifetime.
"Obviously not enough it he still goes with them," Luna said.
Riddle's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it had been given to him
"Far as I know, none of the trophy do," Cedric said.
("Good thing, too, or it'd be even bigger and I'd still be polishing it," said Ron).
"I'm sure the exercise won't hurt him," Luna said.
However, they did find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit,
"A what?" Hermione asked.
"He must have been considered a pride to the school," Cedric said. "Those metals are given out to distinguished students, ones who are usually top of the class and considered a joy to have during their seven years there, with them being expected to do great things once out of the school. I'd say your book self might be on the way of doing that if, one, we had a consistent DADA teacher, and two we had someone other than Snape teaching classes. I don't see Snape willingly to recommend anyone getting an award."
and on a list of old Head Boys.
"He sounds like Percy," said Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Prefect, Head Boy – probably top of every class."
"He says that like it's a bad thing," Hermione said, frowning. "And with me right there. I mean, it's pretty clear that I have plans of being that way as well, isn't it?"
The others nodded their heads.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Hermione, in a slightly hurt voice.
The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick,
"Meaning that there haven't been any targets for them from you," Cedric said. "Either they're trying not to irritate you all that much, or you've notice that pattern and haven't been showing your irritation all that much."
"I doubt it," Harry said.
"On which matter," Hermione said.
"Both," Harry said. "I don't think I've noticed the pattern quite yet, and people, while being more quiet, don't seem to care if I hear what they say or not, something that would irritate me."
and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.
"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for re-potting again," Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time."
"Which means that the others who are petrified will be fine in a while as well," Cedric said.
"That's good," Hermione said.
Perhaps the heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years …
"I don't think they would've kept the school opened if that was true," Cedric said. "Something coming out and attacking every fifty years...no, people would have kept their children out of school if that was true. No one, not even Dumbledore, would be able to keep information like that completely secret."
Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view.
"Of course not. One of his friends was petrified, after all," Cedric said. "I'd probably be upset and blaming you if it was one of my friends in that position, regardless if you had done it or not. No offense, but you're kind of a target, and, if you'd been the one to find them – especially alone – I'd have trouble believing that it wasn't you, since you were also the first to find another petrified person, or, rather, animal."
"I guess that I can understand that," Harry said. "I'm also sure that it doesn't help that the one that I didn't find was known to have irritated me a few hours beforehand, too."
"Yeah, that wouldn't really help," Cedric said.
He was still convinced that Harry was the guilty one, that he had 'given himself away' at the Duelling Club. Peeves wasn't helping matters: he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh Potter, you rotter ...", now with a dance-routine to match.
"I wonder how the dance goes," Luna mused.
Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop.
"And how did he manage that, exactly," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Lockhart was an idiot; there was no way he's the reason why the attacks stopped. Of course, that did beg the question of why there hadn't been an attack yet...
Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.
"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught them. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on them."
"So, basically, he okay with the fact that people have been petrified and doesn't actually care to find the person doing this, just thinking that their having a break is because of him, and really doesn't care that they would be able to get away with what they've done, so long as they don't continue," Hermione said, rolling her eyes once again. "And I wonder what he said during the previous breaks between the attacked beforehand. I mean, really, they did seem like they were spaced apart, after all."
"This must be the longest break then," Cedric said.
"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing ..."
"Why doesn't that sound good?" Harry asked.
"Because of whose saying it," Cedric said.
He tapped his nose again and strode off.
Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February the fourteenth.
"Oh," Hermione said, eyes becoming wide as she realized exactly what Lockhart's idea might be. She looked at Luna, who also realized what was going on. The two connected eyes for a moment, and then, rather quickly, they looked away, giggles making their way through them, though they tried to stop them. A glance at the two boys to their sides didn't help, and they were soon laughing.
The boys, however, once they had realized what was most likely going to be happening, had looks of horror on their faces. While the idea of Valentines Day wasn't too bad in their minds, the fact that it would be one that was Lockhart influenced really didn't make them all that confident that this day would be any good what so ever.
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.
"If it seems like I walked through the wrong door, then it must be really bad," Harry said.
The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling.
Cedric and Harry went a bit green at the description.
Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have come over rather giggly.
"Kind of like how she is now," Cedric said, looking over at her.
"I get the feeling that most of the girls are acting like that," Harry said.
"What's going on?" Harry asked them, sitting down, and wiping confetti off his bacon.
"Eating is going to be so fun with that falling around," Cedric said, scrunching his nose.
Ron pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak.
"Don't blame him," Harry muttered.
Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence.
"Great, we have to hear him speak," Harry said.
The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek.
"Oh, she's angry," Cedric said.
Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.
"He's going to be very unpleasant today," Hermione said, finally over her laughing fit.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards!"
"Only forty-six? People must be realizing that he's a fraud, despite what he says," Cedric said. "Most people send the cards straight away, unless they forget what day it is, though how they do that, I'm not sure."
"I have to wonder if his 'so far' part of the speech is a hint he expects more," Hermione said. "He doesn't really need to say that, after all. And why did he mention how many people sent him cards. He could just say may I thank everyone who sent me cards, which makes it sound like even more than mentioning the actual number of people who sent him cards."
"Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all"
"Which isn't a very nice one, honestly," Luna said, also over her laughing fit. "The only good thing about it is the looks on everyone's faces when they see it."
"– 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 dwarves, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.
"Oh, I do hope that he's paying them well," Cedric said.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your Valentines!"
"I certainly hope that the teachers have something to guard against that," Cedric said. "Otherwise, they'll be interrupted during class by those dwarves."
"And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion!"
"Yeah, right," Cedric said. "I can't see any of the teachers doing that."
"Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion!"
"He'll force-feed whoever does poison," Cedric said.
"And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"
"There's no reason to embarrass him," Hermione said, frowning.
Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.
"Seems you know him quite well," Harry said.
"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," said Ron, as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson.
"I hope I wasn't," Hermione said.
Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her timetable and didn't answer.
"That definitely makes it sound as if I was," Hermione said, groaning a bit.
"Not really," Luna said. "You could have begun to realize that he was fraud, and embarrassed that you had such a crush on him."
All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver Valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon, as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of them caught up with Harry.
"Ah no," Harry groaned.
"I'm surprised that it took that long," Cedric said. "I would have thought you would have been given the most Valentines."
"You've got to remember, though, Cedric," Hermione said. "Most people think it's Harry petrifying students, so he's not the most popular person at the moment."
"Oh, right," Cedric said. "Well, I wonder who sent him a Valentine then."
"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.
"Can't we refuse?" Harry asked, a bit desperately.
"My guess, if Lockhart's paying them well, they won't take no for an answer. Dwarves take what they're being paid to do very seriously," Cedric said. "Though, you might be able to pay your way out of hearing it, if you can go over the price Lockhart's paying them."
Hot all over at the thought of being given a Valentine in front of a queue of first-years, which happened to include Ginny Weasley,
"I wonder why she's mentioned," Luna said.
Harry tried to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd by kicking people's shins, and reached him before he'd gone two paces.
"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.
"I really hate Lockhart, and I really am not caring much for the person whose sent me this," Harry grumbled.
"Not here," Harry hissed, trying to escape.
"Not going to work," Cedric said.
"Stay still!" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry's bag and pulling him back.
"Let me go!" Harry snarled, tugging.
"You might as well as just left him speak," Luna said. "He's not going to give up until he tells you the Valentine."
With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand, parchment and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over the lot.
"I think it might be a good idea to have an unbreakable spell on everything for this day," Cedric said
Harry scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing something of a hold-up in the corridor.
"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.
"And that right there just makes it even more worse," Harry said.
Harry started stuffing everything feverishly into his ripped bag, desperate to get away before Malfoy could hear his musical Valentine.
"I can understand that," Cedric said.
"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice, as Percy Weasley arrived.
"And more and more people keep coming," Hermione said, shaking her head.
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.
"He must not like that fact that you kept trying to get away from him," Luna said.
"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles,
"That'll be painful," Harry said.
"here is 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."
Luna's mouth opened wide as she recognized the 'poem'. It wasn't exactly like the one that Ginny had been working on before her visits were stopped, but she was sure that it was Ginny who had sent it.
Harry noticed Luna's surprise.
"I take it you recognize it," he said.
"Yeah," Luna told him. "It's changed a bit, but I'm sure that it was Ginny who sent it."
"What part changed?" Harry said, not questioning her on if she was right or not, since he had the feeling that she was.
"The third line down, where it says 'I wish he was mine, he's really divine'. When Ginny first told me the poem, she originally said, 'I'm glad he's all mine, he's really divine'," Luna said. "She probably changed it because you're not 'hers' yet."
Harry would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his feet numb from the weight of the dwarf,
"It would kind of be funny to see," Hermione said, "if it wasn't you, and if it didn't point out a mention of something you hate being known for."
as Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.
"At least he's nice enough to help rid you of the unwanted attention," Cedric said.
"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you, Malfoy."
Harry, glancing over, saw Malfoy stoop and snatch up something. Leering, he showed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and Harry realised that he'd got Riddle's diary.
"That's okay," Hermione said. "It's not like there's anything in there that would give him any dirt on you."
"Give that back," said Harry quietly.
"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover, and thought he had Harry's own diary.
"If I did write in a journal," Harry said. "I wouldn't carry it around."
A hush fell over the onlookers.
"They're all probably hoping that Malfoy will read it out loud and they'll hear something about you," Luna said.
Ginny was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.
That got some reaction from everyone in the room.
"Why would she look terrified?" Harry said. Hermione adopted a thinking face, before her eyes widened.
"She's the one. It was her," she muttered, not realizing that she was saying that loud enough for the others to hear.
"What do you mean?" Cedric asked. Luna, however, understood what Hermione was going on about.
"Ginny's the one who threw the diary away," Luna said. "That's why she looks terrified, though I don't exactly know why that emotion, since the diary's empty."
"Maybe there's a way it works, that she knows, and she thinks that Harry might have figured it out himself," Hermione said, still looking deep in thought. She sighed as she shook her head after a moment. "Well, whatever it is, we won't know unless it comes up into the book."
"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy sternly.
"Like that'll work. Malfoy has no respect for anyone who he considers inferior, even if they're in a position such as prefect," Cedric said.
"That's true," Hermione said, having noticed his disrespect in the previous chapter.
"When I've had a look," said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry.
"He's not allowed to 'have a look'," Cedric said. "If that book had really belonged to you, and he refused to give it back, that could be considered thievery."
"But I doubt he would get punished for it," Hermione said. "I mean, other than Percy, no one else of authority is around, and Dumbledore doesn't strike me as the type to expel or suspend someone for something like that, especially since one could say that he just picked it up from the ground."
"From what I've heard, Dumbledore hates thieves," Cedric said. "And, while you are right about that last part, the fact that he wasn't planning on giving it back could erase that part."
Percy said, "As a school Prefect –", but Harry had lost his temper.
"Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head.
He pulled out his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and just as Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air.
"Too bad he couldn't've been sent flying back as well," Luna muttered.
Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.
"Harry!" said Percy loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!"
"Technically, he doesn't have to," Cedric said. "But he will, because he's like that."
But Harry didn't care, he'd got one over on Malfoy, and that was worth five points from Gryffindor any day. Malfoy was looking furious, and as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully after her, "I don't think Potter liked your Valentine much!"
"I wonder if he's just making a guess about that, or if he saw her give the Valentine to the dwarf," Cedric said.
"Probably saw her," Luna said.
Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class.
"And that right there says that it definitely was her," Hermione muttered quietly.
Snarling, Ron pulled out his wand, too, but Harry pulled him away. Ron didn't need to spend the whole of Charms belching slugs.
"And I don't think anyone really wants to see it, either," Hermione said.
It wasn't until they had reached Professor Flitwick's class that Harry noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary.
"I wonder what that is," Luna said.
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.
"That's...strange," Cedric said.
"It's sounds like either the ink missed the diary entirely, or it...absorbed the ink," Hermione said.
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.
"Yeah, I can see why," Luna said.
Harry went to bed before anyone else in his dormitory that night. This was partly because he didn't think he could stand Fred and George singing, "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad", one more time,
"And because you want to examine the diary again," Hermione said. "I wonder if you showed it to me."
"Of course I did," Harry said.
"Actually, I don't think you did," Luna said. "Because I would think that Hermione would be interested in it, and most likely help find out what was going on. Plus, it only mentions you trying to point it out to Ron, nothing about mentioning it to Hermione."
Harry frowned, realizing that that was true. He hadn't tried to get Hermione's attention – and he knew that she would be interested, too. He didn't like the idea that he seemed to be closer to Ron in that he would try to show Ron something but not Hermione. It didn't make him feel like a good friend.
and partly because he wanted to examine Riddle's diary again, and knew that Ron thought he was wasting his time.
There, again, not mention of Hermione Harry thought, frowning once again.
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.
"It absorbed it," Hermione said. "Now we know how it works."
Excited, Harry loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."
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.
"Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"
"That's interesting," Luna said. Cedric frowned. He didn't like the sound of that and there was something itching in the back of his mind, like a warning that he knew, but couldn't quite recall...
These words, too, faded away, but not before Harry had started to scribble back.
"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."
He waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.
"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink."
"I wonder what spells he used," Hermione muttered to herself.
"But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."
"I wonder who he means," Harry said.
"I don't know who he means, but I can guess what it is that the diary holds," Luna said. "I do think it does have to do with the chamber, which, again, begs the question of why Ginny has said anything about it."
"I'd say that perhaps Ginny didn't figure the diary out, but, then, there would be no reason to throw it away, would there," Cedric said.
"Well, it could be that, like Harry, some ink got spilt on it, but, also unlike Harry, it freak Ginny out and she didn't write into it," Hermione said. "Though, I do have to wonder a bit if Harry here should be writing in it at all."
"What do you mean?" Harry scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.
"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things which were covered up. Things which happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"That's definitely sounding like the Chamber business," Hermione said. "You know, I have to wonder why no one is being pulled out. I mean, one would think that everyone who went home would've told their parents about what was happening, and, well, I'm going by my own parents on this part, and, if they knew, they'd pull me out of the school without a second thought."
"That's where I am now," Harry wrote quickly. "I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"
His heart was hammering. Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.
"Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one."
"I wonder if he was friend of the person who died," Harry said.
"I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled."
"I think we know what his trophy is for," Cedric said.
"But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident."
"I'm sorry, but how is it that people accepted that. I mean, he says beforehand, people were being attacked. It makes sense that whatever was doing the attacking would be what killed the girl, doesn't it," Hermione said.
"Yeah, but I guess the fact that people were relieved that the attacks stopped that they didn't care to talk about it any more," Cedric said.
"They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."
"Do you guys think that it might be the person who released it fifty years ago now, or do you think it's a new person" Harry asked.
"New person," Cedric said. "I don't think that whoever it was would be allowed around the school a lot, and it makes more sense for someone new to the school to be doing it because it would explain away the reason why it's happening now over having happened earlier."
Harry nearly upset his ink bottle in his hurry to write back.
"It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"
"I can show you, if you like," came Riddle's reply. "You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."
"Okay, now that's kind of creepy," Hermione said. "I really don't think you should do it."
"Yeah. I mean, I know that there are spells to imprint a personality or memory, but I don't think I've ever heard of someone able to actually show what happened, which is rather worrisome," Cedric said.
Harry hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.
"Let me show you."
"He seems to be kind of pushy," Hermione said.
Harry paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters.
"OK."
The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry saw that the little square for June the thirteenth seemed to have turned into a minuscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forwards; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of colour and shadow.
"Okay, that sounds extremely weird," Harry said.
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. Harry had never seen this man before.
"Well, if you've been brought to the past, then it makes sense that you wouldn't know him," Cedric said.
"I'm sorry," he said shakily, "I didn't mean to butt in ..."
"Harry, you're not really there, so there's no reason to speak to him," Cedric said.
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?"
"Somehow, I don't think book me has gotten the message that I'm not real to him," Harry said, slightly amused at his actions. "Still, that would be weird, to be there and yet not be there."
Still the wizard ignored him. He didn't seem even to have heard him. Thinking that the wizard might be deaf, Harry raised his voice.
"Sorry I disturbed you, I'll go now," he half-shouted.
Luna sniggered a bit at that.
"If he's deaf, it doesn't matter how loud you are, he isn't going to hear you anyways," Hermione said.
The wizard folded up the letter with a sigh, stood up, walked past Harry without glancing at him and went to draw the curtains at his window.
The sky outside the window was ruby red; it seemed to be sunset. The wizard went back to the desk, sat down and twiddled his thumbs, watching the door.
"He's waiting for someone," Cedric said.
"Probably Tom Riddle. I mean, this is his memory," Hermione said. "Which makes me wonder why he isn't there already."
Harry looked around the office. No Fawkes the phoenix; no whirring silver contraptions. This was Hogwarts as Riddle had known it, meaning that this unknown wizard was Headmaster, not Dumbledore, and he, Harry, was little more than a phantom, completely invisible to the people of fifty years ago.
"You got it pretty quickly," Hermione said. "That's good, though I will miss reading about your rather funny reactions."
"Glad to have been of service," Harry said, a bit dryly.
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.
"You mean they actually wore them back then," Cedric said, sounding surprised.
A silver Prefect's badge was glinting on his chest. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair.
"He sounds like he looks a bit like you," Luna said.
"And I'm sure that there are other people who have similar features to him, to all of us, actually," Hermione said.
"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.
"I wonder what the letter said," Harry muttered.
"My dear boy," said Dippet kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer."
"I take it that you're not allowed to stay over the summer," Hermione said.
"I've never heard of it," Cedric said.
"Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"
"If he's asking to stay at the school, I get the feeling that he doesn't want to go home," Harry said. "And, if his home life is anything like mine, it's understandable why."
"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.
An orphanage would be better than the Dursleys thought Harry.
"Yes, sir," said Riddle, reddening slightly.
"He's embarrassed by that fact," Hermione said.
"You are Muggleborn?"
"Half-blood, sir," said Riddle. "Muggle father, witch mother."
"And are both your parents –?"
"If he lives in an orphanage, probably," Harry said.
"Unless, of course, his father left his mother," Hermione said. "Remember what Cedric said, during the first book, the fact that there are some half-bloods who parents leave them because of that."
"Right, forgot about that," Harry said.
"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."
"The thing is, Tom," he sighed, "special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances ..."
"So, it is possible," Cedric said.
"However, because of the attacks, he's about to be told that he can't stay there," Harry said. It was easy to understand that.
"I wonder if Harry could stay at the castle during the summers; you know, never have to see the Dursleys and all," Hermione said.
"I don't know. I mean, I would imagine that it's the headmaster's decision on that, and, well, Dumbledore did place you with the Dursley's to begin with, even after McGonagall told him that he shouldn't. I can't see him letting you stay there if he's willing to place you there in the first place," Cedric said.
"Plus, for all we know, you have to be a certain age to even ask," Luna said. "I mean, it sounds like this is the first time Riddle asks about it, so..."
"You mean all these attacks, sir?" said Riddle, and Harry's heart leapt, and he moved closer, scared of missing anything.
The other three unconsciously leaned towards Cedric and the book, not wanting to miss anything either.
"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 the 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 ..."
"Wow. Who knew just how bad it was," Hermione said, her eyes widening.
"Yeah," Harry breathed.
Riddle's eyes had widened.
"Sir – if the person was caught ... If it all stopped ..."
"That sounds like he already knows who it is," Cedric said.
"Yeah," Hermione said, looking a bit suspicious. Why would he know who it is and not mention anything until the possibility of the school being closed came into light? That made it sound as if he was a bigot himself, all right the Muggleborns being petrified and/or killed, so long as the school remained open and he, Tom, has a place to go other than the orphanage.
"What do you mean?" said Dippet, with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair.
"He caught it, too," Harry said.
"Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"
"No, sir," said Riddle quickly.
"I get the feeling that that's a lie," Luna said.
But Harry was sure it was the same sort of 'no' that he himself had given Dumbledore.
Dippet sank back, looking faintly disappointed.
"He was probably hoping that he'd be given some clue so that he didn't have to close down the school, and so that the girl's parents would have closure that the monster that killed their daughter is dead," Cedric said.
"You may go, Tom ..."
Riddle slid off his chair and stumped out of the room. Harry followed him.
Down the moving spiral staircase they went, emerging next to the gargoyle in the darkening corridor. Riddle stopped, and so did Harry, watching him. Harry could tell that Riddle was doing some serious thinking. He was biting his lip, his forehead furrowed.
"I wonder what he's thinking about," Harry said.
Probably if it's worth having all of the attacks stopped or not Hermione thought, though she didn't say. After all, there wasn't really any truth to what she was thinking, though she did find it odd that Riddle would have made a comment that sounded as if he already knew who was doing it, and didn't plan on turning them in beforehand.
Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, he hurried off, Harry gliding noiselessly behind him. They didn't see another person until they reached the Entrance Hall, when a tall wizard with long, sweeping auburn hair and beard called to Riddle from the marble staircase.
"Uh oh," Cedric said. "Caught by a teacher."
"I wonder who," Harry said.
"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"
Harry gaped at the wizard. He was none other than a fifty-year-younger Dumbledore.
Everyone's eyes widened at that.
"He had auburn hair," Cedric said.
"That's going to be weird, seeing a teacher that I know, and him not looking the way that I'm used to seeing him," Harry said.
"I had to see the Headmaster, sir," said Riddle.
"Well, hurry off to bed," said Dumbledore, giving Riddle exactly the kind of penetrating stare Harry knew so well.
"You know, I wonder what house Riddle is in," Hermione said.
"Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since ..."
"I wonder who it was that died," Luna said.
"Whoever it is was probably a student," Cedric said. Hermione's eye brows furrowed. A student had died...and there was a young, about student age ghost around the school...
"What are you thinking, Hermione?" Harry asked, noticing her look.
"It's nothing," she said, shaking her head. There really wasn't enough evidence, other than her own ideas.
He sighed heavily, bade Riddle goodnight and strode off. Riddle watched him out of sight and then, moving quickly, headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with Harry in hot pursuit.
"I wonder where he's going," Harry said.
But to Harry's disappointment, Riddle led him not into a hidden passageway or a secret tunnel but the very dungeon in which Harry had Potions with Snape.
"Okay..." Harry said, confused.
The torches hadn't been lit, and when Riddle pushed the door almost closed, Harry could only just see Riddle, standing stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside.
"He's waiting for something," Hermione said.
It felt to Harry that they were there for at least an hour. All he could see was the figure of Riddle at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a statue. And just when Harry had stopped feeling expectant and tense, and started wishing he could return to the present, he heard something move beyond the door.
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 tiptoeing behind him, forgetting that he couldn't be heard.
"Well, I doubt the atmosphere was really helping me remember," Harry said.
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 ..."
"No," Hermione said, recognizing the method of speaking. "That can't be..."
She looked at the others, who also had looks of disbelief sketched on their faces.
There was something familiar about that 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.
"He's wrong. It can't be him," Harry said.
"But remember, he was expelled, and Riddle mentioned that whoever it was doing that was expelled as well," Cedric said, slightly miserable. He might not be a huge friend of Hagrid's – in fact, he wasn't really a friend at all – but Hagrid was one of the nicest men you'd ever meet. It was hard hearing that he might not have always been that way.
"I don't think it's Hagrid," Hermione said. "I think Riddle might just be framing him, because I can't see Hagrid willingly letting a creature roam around that might hurt someone. He might be crazy about his monsters, but I do think he'd be crazy enough to let them hurt students."
"But remember when the dragon bit Ron?" Harry said. Hermione faltered in her line of thinking. Harry was right to bring that up – it didn't help Hagrid's case in the fact that he was more concerned about a dragon over Ron, who was a student.
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."
"Yeah, that does make sound like he's just trying to pin the attacks on Hagrid because of the fact that the school might close down," Harry said.
"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 –"
"That doesn't really make sense, though," Hermione said. "I mean, he said it himself. There were several attacks before the death. Hagrid would have most likely realized that something was wrong, and probably brought the monster somewhere outside of the school if that monster was responsible."
"It never killed no one!" said the large boy, backing against the closed door.
"I don't think that Hagrid would defend the monster if it had killed someone," Harry said. "He might think the monster can't do any harm, but I can't see him defending it if it had killed someone."
From behind him, Harry could hear a funny rustling and clicking.
"That doesn't sound like a snake," Luna said.
"Come on, Rubeus," said Riddle, moving yet closer. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow."
"Muggles can come to Hogwarts?" Hermione said.
"Apparently only in extreme emergencies," Cedric said.
"The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered ..."
"It wasn' 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.
"Did you hear a spell being said," Hermione said.
"No. And he shouldn't be able to do non-verbal spells yet, because those are not taught until sixth year," Cedric said.
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 made Harry let out a long, piercing scream no one but he seemed to hear.
"That scary, huh," Luna said.
A vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a pair of razor-sharp pincers –
"It's a spider," Luna said. "Riddle definitely has it wrong, then, unless, of course, the thing that killed the girl isn't what's going around petrifying students. I mean, it is possible that they are completely different monsters."
Riddle raised his wand again, but he was too late. The thing bowled him over as it scuttled away,
"Okay, that's not a regular spider," Cedric said.
"It sounds like an acromantula," Luna said.
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!"
"Poor Hagrid," Luna said.
"Well, we definitely know that Riddle did not catch the Heir," Cedric said. "We already know that it's a snake, after all, though what kind isn't known that well. Hagrid's monster was a spider, though, so that right there shows that Riddle was wrong."
"Well, Riddle might have been wrong about Hagrid being the Heir, but there's actually no way to know if Hagrid was right about the monster not killing the girl or not at the moment," Harry said. "I, personally, don't think it did, but, since we don't know how the girl was found or if there was any indication of what killed her, we can't rule it out. I mean, just because Hagrid was staunch in his defense doesn't mean that he's completely right; he may just not know that the spider killed the girl."
"You know, I wonder if Riddle is a Slytherin," Hermione said. "I mean, remember in the first book, with his words about Slytherins. If Riddle is one, it could be why he doesn't care for them, or the members of that house."
"Or it could be the fact that he was thought to have been Slytherin's Heir that caused it," Harry pointed out.
"Both of those reasons are very likely," Luna said.
The scene whirled, the darkness became complete, Harry felt himself falling and, with a crash, he landed spread-eagled on his four-poster in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle's diary lying open on his stomach.
"Well, we now know why Hagrid was expelled," Harry said glumly.
Before he had had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.
"There you are," he said.
"He must've come up and tried to find me," Harry said.
Harry sat up. He was sweating and shaking.
"What's up?" said Ron, looking at him with concern.
"You must look awful," Hermione said.
"Makes sense. As far as my book self knows, I just found out that my friend was apparently the Heir," Harry said.
"It was Hagrid, Ron. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."
"That's the end of that chapter," said Cedric, handing the book over to Luna.