HARRY, RON, HERMIONE AND HARPER 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, Harper 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, Harper could imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a lead and collar on it. But Harper was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.

Again and again, Ron, Hermione and Harper made Harry recount what he'd seen.

"Riddle might have got the wrong person," Hermione said. "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," Harry said 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 as Harper just listened to them in disbelief.

"Riddle does sound like Percy—who asked him to grass on Hagrid, anyway?"

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

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

Ron bit his lip. "You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?"

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

"Are you all kidding me?" Harper spoke up, in disbelief. "Do you really believe that Hagrid opened the Chamber?" She shook her head. "I cannot believe it. Anyone but Hagrid."

The four of them fell silent.

"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?" Hermione carefully asked.

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

In the end, they decided that they wouldn't 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.

Peeves had finally got bored of his Oh Potter, you rotter song, 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 and Harper. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the Hospital Wing."

The second-years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione and Harper, at least, took very seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," she told Harry, Ron and Harper, as they poured over lists of new subjects, marking them with ticks.

"I just want to give up Potions," Harry said.

"We can't," Ron said gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I'd've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" Hermione said, shocked.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches is," Ron replied and Harper nodded. "I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose."

"I quite like it," Harper admitted, "but we really need a decent teacher."

Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than Study of Ancient Runes.

Dean Thomas, who had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on.

Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.

Harry and Harper were discussing their subjects when Percy interrupted up and eagerly began sharing his experience.

"Depends where you want to go, Harry, Harp," he said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studdies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them—look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry, Harp."

In the end, Harper chose the same subjects as Harry and Ron: Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. At least she wouldn't be alone then.

• ✧ •

GRYFFINDOR'S NEXT QUIDDITCH MATCH would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practice every night after dinner, so that Harry and Harper barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match, Harper went up her dormitory to drop off her broom, feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup had never been better.

She had just put her broom on her bed when she heard Dean swear loudly. She dashed over to the boys dormitory and her eyes widened as she saw the mess that had been made in their room.

"What happened?" Harper questioned, standing next to Dean and Seamus.

"No idea," he replied but Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out.

"Someone's been looking for something," Ron said. "Is there anything missing?"

Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk.

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

"What?"

Harry jerked his head towards the dormitory door and Ron and Harper followed him out. They hurried back 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 knows our password . . ."

"Exactly," Harper replied grimly.

• ✧ •

THEY WOKE NEXT DAY TO BRILLIANT SUNSHINE and a light, refreshing breeze.

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

Harper smiled at his enthusiasm and started eating it. She saw Harry staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Riddle's diary was right in front of their eyes. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, but Harper knew Harry didn't like that idea.

As the four of them left the Great Hall to go and collect their Quidditch things, Harry stopped abruptly at the beginning of the marble staircase.

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

Ron and Harper shook their heads, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

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

"I'm coming with you!" Harper exclaimed, knowing she wouldn't be safe as the monster was indeed back on its track.

"You can't," Harry said, pulling her back as Hermione sprinted away, up the stairs. "We have a Quidditch match."

"But what if the monster gets her?" Harper asked in a terrified voice. "I'd never forgive myself for not going with her."

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

Harry and Harper raced up to the Gryffindor Tower, collected their Nimbus Two Thousand's and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds. They pulled on their scarlet robes, as Harper was still thinking of Hermione.

Please let her be safe.

The team walked onto the pitch to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goalposts, Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics. When Harper caught Cedric's eye, he gave her a smile.

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

Harry and Harper exchanged a worried glance.

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

"But Professor!" he shouted. "You can't cancel Quidditch!"

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 Head of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

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

"Potters, I think you'd better come with me . . ."

Ron detached himself from the complaining crowd and came running up to them as they set off towards the castle. To my 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, Ron and Harper 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," Professor McGonagall said in a surprisingly gently voice as they approached the Hospital Wing. "There has been another attack . . . another double attack."

Harper's insides did a horrible somersault. There would only be one reason why the three of them would be brought here.

Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and the three of them entered. Madam Pomfrey was bending over a sixth-year girl with long curly hair. Harper recognized her as the Ravenclaw Ron'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. Harper didn't know what to feel. She stood frozen on the spot, her hazel eyes fixed on her best friend.

"They were found near the library," Professor McGonagall said. "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.

They shook their heads, still staring at Hermione.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," Professor McGonagall said heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

• ✧ •

"ALL STUDENTS WILL RETURN TO THEIR HOUSE common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No students is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson 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 chocked 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, one Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff," said 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.

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

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

But Harper was only half listening. She 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, Hogwarts would be closed.

"What're we going to do?" Ron asked quietly. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

"We've got to go and talk to him," Harper said, making up her mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll 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 . . ." Ron began.

"I think," Harry spoke up, more quietly still, "it's time to get our dad's old Cloak out again."

• ✧ •

HARPER WAITED UNTIL LAVENDER AND PARVATI were asleep before dressing up again and making her way down the stairs to the common room.

Harry and Ron came in not much later and they threw the Cloak over themselves.

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. Teachers, Prefects and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape was standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open.

It was a clear, starry night. They hurried towards the lighted windows of Hagrid's house, and pulled off the Cloak only when they were right outside his front door.

Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face to face, with him aiming a crossbow at them, Fang the boarhound barking loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you three doin' here?"

"What's that for?" Harry asked, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

"Nothin' . . . nothin'," Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin' . . . doesn' matter . . . Sit down . . . I'll make tea . . ."

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" Harper asked him. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," Hagrid said, a slight break in his voice. He kept glancing at the windows. He poured them large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate, when there was a loud knock on the door.

Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry, Ron and Harper exchanged panic-stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by as second, very odd-looking man.

The stranger was a short, portly man with rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression. He was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pin-striped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak and pointed green boots. Under his arm carries a lime-green bowler.

"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"

Harry and Harper elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up.

Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.

"Bad business, Hagrid," Fudge said, in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," Hagrid said, looking imploringly at Dumbledore, "you know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir . . ."

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," Dumbledore said, frowning at Fudge.

"Look, Albus," Fudge said, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something—the school governors have been in touch."

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," Dumbledore said. His blue eyes were full of a fire Harper had never seen before.

"Look at it from my point of view," Fudge said, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty . . ."

"Take me?" Hagrid said, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," Fudge said, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology . . ."

"Not Azkaban?" Hagrid croaked.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door. Dumbledore answered it and it was Harry this time who earned an elbow in the ribs: he'd let out an audible gasp.

Mr Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good . . ."

"What're you doin' here?" Hagrid said furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your—er—d'you call this a house?" Lucius Malfoy said, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the Headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" Dumbledore asked. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.

"Dreadful things, Dumbledore," Mr Malfoy said lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension—you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," Fudge said, looking alarmed, "Dumbledore suspended . . . no, no . . . last thing we want just now . . ."

"The appointment—or suspension—of the Headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," Mr Malfoy said smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks . . ."

"Now look, Lucius, if Dumbledore can't stop them . . ." Fudge said, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"

"That remains to be seen," Mr Malfoy said, with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted . . ."

Hagrid leaped to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.

"An' how many did yeh have yet threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" he roared.

"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid," Mr Malfoy said. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can't take Dumbledore!" Hagrid yelled, making Fang cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," Dumbledore said sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside."

"But . . ." Fudge stuttered.

"No!" Hagrid growled.

Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy's cold grey ones.

"However," Dumbledore continued, speaking very slowly and clearly, so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

For a second, Harper was almost sure Dumbledore's eyes flickered towards the corner where she, Harry and Ron stood hidden.

"Admirable sentiments," Malfoy said, bowing. "We shall all miss your—er—highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any—ah—killin's."

He strode to the cabin door, opened it and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground and took a deep breath.

"If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge stared at him in amazement.

"All right, I'm comin'," Hagrid said, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again.

"An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away."

The door banged shut and Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak off.

"We're in trouble now," he said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."

Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door.

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April 16th 2023
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)