CHAPTER SEVEN:

Third Person P.O.V.:

By the time the holidays came around, students were rushing to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that they could return home. Everyone had become immensely panicked since the double attack on Justin and Sir Nicholas.

As the snow fell and majority of the students had been taken to the train by carriage, Harry, Charlie, Ron and Hermione all sat in a nearly empty Great Hall for Christmas dinner. The brown eyed boy sat next to Hermione, as always, while Ron and Harry sat on the opposite side of the table. It was the first holiday where they were all together. Not to mention, it was when they were planning on using the polyjuice potion on Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini.

Charlie looked around the Great Hall and spoke sarcastically, "At this rate, we'll be the only ones left. Us and Malfoy and his goons. Oh, what a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Harry and Ron laughed while Hermione looked around to make sure no one was listening to what she was going to say next.

"Everything's set," Hermione whispered, "We just need a bit of who you're changing into."

"Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini." Harry nodded.

"We also need to make sure that the real Slytherins can't burst in on us while we're interrogating Malfoy," Hermione continued.

"How?" Ron inquired.

"I've got it all figured out," The bushy haired girl explained as she took out three cupcakes from her robes, "I filled these with a simple sleeping draught. Simple, but powerful. You guys know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, hide them in the broom closet, pull out a few of their hairs and put on their robes."

The three boys looked at one another curiously. They didn't know whether to be relieved that Hermione had thought everything through or scared that the girl was capable of talking about such activity with so much ease.

"Hermione, I don't think - "

"That could go seriously wrong - "

"Are you mad -"

But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had.

"The potion will be useless without their hair," she said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

"Oh, all right, all right," said Harry.

"But what about you?" Ron asked, nervously, "Whose hair are you ripping out?"

"I've already got mine!" said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. "Millicent Bulstrode. Slytherin. I got this off her robes. And she's gone home for Christmas - so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back." She paused for a moment, before gathering her things, "I'm going to go check on the polyjuice potion, make sure that Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini find those cupcakes."

With that, Hermione got up from the table and walked out of the Great Hall in a hurry, so she could get back to working on finishing the potion.

When the girl was out of sight, Ron spoke to his two friends with a worried expression, "Have you ever heard of plan where were so many things could go wrong?"

Charlie laughed as he picked up his water glass, "Well, you heard her. The potion won't work unless we do this. We have no other option."

The brown eyed boy took a sip from his glass as Harry nodded in agreement with him, "Come on then, let's get to work then."

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The three Gryffindor boys lurked in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas dinner. They were waiting for Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini to stop shovelling down fourth helpings of trifle at the Slytherin table.

Harry had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When the three Slytherins came running out of the Great Hall, Harry, Charlie, and Ron hid quickly behind a suit of armor next to the front door.

"How thick can you get?" The brown eyed boy whispered ecstatically as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and Zabini and then, grabbed them eagerly.

Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, all three of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, the three of them keeled over backward onto the floor.

By far the hardest part was hiding them in the closet across the hall. Once they were safely stowed among the buckets and mops, Harry yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Goyle's forehead, Charlie took a few hairs from the back of Zabini's head, while Ron pulled out several of Crabbe's hairs. They stole their robes and ties, and then left the three Slytherins in the broom cupboard, unharmed, in their dress shirts and dress pants. Then, still stunned at what they had just done, sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

As they entered, Hermione was sat in her normal corner of the room, stirring the cauldron carefully. The three boys stared into the cauldron. From close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud. It was absolutely disgusting.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the potion's instructions. "It looks like the book says it should... once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Ron whispered.

"We separate it into four glasses and add the hairs." Hermione explained.

She scooped out four glasses filled of the muddy-like potion. Each one of them took one and reluctantly looked at one another before each adding the hairs of the person they were transforming into.

"Cheers," Charlie said, holding his glass in the air, as a way of lightening the mood.

His three friends smiled slightly before raising their glasses as well. As their glasses clinked, they brought them to their lips and each took a swig.

Immediately, Charlie's insides began to writhe, as though he had just swallowed a dozen live snakes. Then, there was a burning sensation that stemmed from the pit of his stomach and reached all the way to his fingertips and toes. The young boy felt sick, and apparently he wasn't the only one. All three of his friends seemed to feel that same as they all groaned in disgust.

"God, I'm gonna be sick," Ron said, clutching his stomach, before he ran towards a bathroom stall.

"I'm with you, mate. Ugh." Charlie said as he swore he could feel his insides attacking him. He too, ran to a stall.

Hermione nodded before running into a stall of her own, "Me too!"

Harry remained in the main area as he watched his face start to bubble and change into that of Goyle. After a minute of so, both, Charlie and Ron emerged in Slytherin robes as Zabini and Crabbe.

Each of the boys looked at one another in amazement. The potion actually worked. They were undoubtedly transformed into the three Slytherins which they despised.

Charlie took in his appearance in one of the mirror's beyond Harry, and was astonished to see Blaise Zabini staring back at him. Blaise was a new Slytherin pure-blood transfer student who had taken a liking to Malfoy and his goons upon his arrival. Zabini looked nothing like Charlie. Blaise was a tall, dark skinned boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes. Yet in that mirror, Charlie was Zabini. There were seemingly no differences that were easily spotted. Even his voice had gotten a little lower through his transformation.

"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose, "Unbelievable."

"We'd better get going," said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow..."

"I know where it is, don't worry." Charlie reassured.

It pays off to practically be able to call Hogwarts your childhood home.

Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking."

Charlie laughed as he banged on Hermione's door, "C'mon 'Mione, we need to go - "

A high pitched voice answered him, "I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You guys go on without me."

Ron spoke with a laugh, "Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you -"

"No - really - I don't think I'll come.
You three hurry up, you're wasting time - "

The girl sounded different, but not like Millicent Bulstrode at all. More like herself, but more startled and nervous.

Charlie looked at Harry and Ron, bewildered, before turning back to the stall door, looking concerned, "'Mione, are you alright?"

"Fine - I'm fine - go on - "

Harry looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed, "She's right, Charlie. We've got to go."

The brown eyed boy placed his hand on the door one more time, and whispered so Hermione could hear, "We'll meet you back here, all right?"

The three boys opened the door to the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off. Charlie led his two friends down a nearby staircase towards the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was located.

As the three of them turned the corner, they spotted a figure emerging from the other end of the corridor, "Excuse me!"

The figure came towards them. Charlie, Harry, and Ron's hearts began to sink as they took in the figure's appearance. It was Percy Weasley, Ron's older brother and a Gryffindor Prefect.

"What're you doing down here?" said Ron in surprise.

Percy looked offended, "I happen to be a school Prefect. You, on the other hand, have no business wandering the corridors at this time of night. What're your names again?"

"I'm -"

"Crabbe! Goyle! Zabini!"

A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry, Charlie and Ron. Draco Malfoy was strolling toward them, and for the first time in his life, Charlie was pleased to see him.

"Where have you three been?" He questioned angrily, "Pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?"

The three boys looked at one another before subconsciously agreeing to nod all together.

Draco then turned to Harry as Goyle, "Why are you wearing glasses?"

Ron and Charlie shared a nervous glance. How could they had been so stupid as to not remind their friend to remove those damn glasses?!

Harry gulped as he took them off, "Uh - I was reading."

Draco looked at him curiously, "Reading? I didn't know you could read."

He seemed to drop the topic because he turned his attention to Percy with a glare, "And what are you doing down here, Weasley?"

Percy looked outraged, "Mind your attitude, Malfoy."

Draco simply smirked devilishly before walking passed him. Charlie, Harry, and Ron all followed after him quickly. Malfoy led the three of them into the Slytherin common room much to its convenience.

The blonde haired Slytherin plopped down on the couch, while the three disguised boys looked at one another reluctantly before Charlie lead the charge and sat down, causing Harry and Ron to do the same. The Slytherin common room was exactly how Charlie imagined it. It was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and greenish chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Not to mention, a fireplace was crackling under an elaborate serpent head mantelpiece ahead of them.

"You'd never know the Weasley's were pure-bloods," Draco began in a disgusted tone, "Not with the way they behave. They're an embarrassment to the Wizarding World. All of them."

Charlie adverted his gaze from Malfoy and saw Ron clutch his fist.

"What's wrong with you, Crabbe?" Draco inquired.

The brown eyed boy subtly nudged Ron's foot to snap him out of his obvious hatred. The ginger boy seemed to get the message as his face softened and he grunted, "Stomachache."

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering.
"You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."

Charlie could feel his anger begin to rise as Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Collin Creevey, "'Hawthorne! Can I have your picture, Hawthorne? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Hawthorne?'"

This time it was Harry who nudged Charlie to calm him down. Far too late, the three boys forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied.

"Saint Hawthorne, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy slowly. "I don't know how someone with so much potential ended up like he did. Look at him! Fraternizing with mudbloods, blood-traitors, and pathetic excuses of wizards like Harry Potter. Ha! I still can't even believe people think that Potter is Slytherin's heir!"

Much to his anger, Charlie held his breath at the mention of the heir. This was it. Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him -

"I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."

The brown eyed boy shared a shocked glance with his two friends. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice, and Harry, thinking fast, said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all..."

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time... As for me, I hope it's Granger," he said with a smirk.

That was the last straw for Charlie. The brown eyed boy lunged forward off of the couch with every intention of punching Malfoy square in the face, but was quickly stopped by Ron and Harry holding him back.

"What is that matter with you three?!" Draco yelled.

Harry spoke quickly, "Must've been something we ate." He then turned to Charlie who was furiously glaring in Malfoy's direction and whispered, "You have to calm down."

Charlie simply rolled his eyes. He knew Harry was right, but he couldn't help but feel the immense anger that built up inside at everything Malfoy said. First, he blatantly ridiculed his grandfather as headmaster, then he poked fun about a petrified kid in the hospital wing, and now? Wishing death upon Hermione Granger? Oh boy.

Draco was beyond lucky that Charlie got held back, because god only knows the wrath that would've been unleashed on him. A broken nose wouldn't even compare to the damage the brown eyed boy could've done if he managed to get his hands on Malfoy in that moment.

"U-Uh," Ron stuttered as he pointed to Goyle's forehead, which snapped Charlie out of his thoughts, "S-Scar."

Harry's famous lightening bolt shaped scar was now appearing on Goyle's face. Meaning, the hour was nearly up and the potion was wearing off.

The Chosen One gulped as he looked at Zabini. Charlie's dark, wavy hair was beginning to grow out of Blaise's buzz cut, "H-Hair."

Charlie gasped as he moved his hands to the top of his head before looking to Crabbe's face and seeing the infamous Weasley marks appear on his face. His eyes widened, "Uh, Freckles."

The three of them wasted no time before starting towards the door, covering the parts of them that were turning back into their original selves.

"Hey!" shouted Malfoy after them, "Where are you going!"

His three "friends" didn't answer as they simply ran out of the common room and sprinted towards Myrtle's bathroom.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them once they were safely inside, "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and ask him about Lucius Malfoy."

Charlie checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal. Harry put his glasses back on as Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's stall.

"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you - "

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

Harry, Charlie and Ron looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Charlie sincerely, as he moved towards the door, "You must be back to normal by now, we are - "

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. It was the first time that the ghost had been seen with an amused smile plastered on her face, "Oooooooh, just wait until you see! It's awful!"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, his eyes widened in concern.

Ron joked to lighten the mood, "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink. Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"Uh oh," said Ron, which earned a slap on the back of the head from Charlie as he thought he was being insensitive.

"Poor girl. Now, you'll understand what it's like to be teased!" said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry quickly.

Charlie nodded with a small reassuring smile, "Yeah, Harry's right. We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey never asks too many questions..."

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom, but she did so out of Charlie's sincere request. She trusted him when he said that everything would be okay. He had even promised that he'd stay in the hospital wing with her as long as he could, before Madame Pomfrey kicked him out. This made her smile for the first time since she took that damned potion.

Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way out, completely ruining the moment, "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"

Hermione buried her face in Charlie's arm as he guided her towards the hospital wing, with Ron and Harry following closely behind.

Once they arrived, Madame Pomfrey took one look at the brown eyed boy and sighed, "What have you done to yourself this time, Charles?"

Charlie smiled lightly as he shook his head, "Not me this time, Madame Pomfrey." He shifted his gaze to the sobbing girl on his arm before moving back to the nurse, "Any possibility that there could be a patient and doctor confidentiality agreement put in place?"

The nurse furrowed her brows at the young boy before she nodded, reluctantly.

With that, Charlie urged Hermione to look up. The bushy haired girl lifted her head off of the boy's shoulder and looked up at Madame Pomfrey.

All Pomfrey did was gasp.

-------------

Hermione had remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. Every day, whenever he had the time, Charlie would go and visit her. It soon became his favourite part of the day. He knew from his own experiences that the hospital wing could get boring quite fast, so he tried his best to make Hermione laugh while he visited her. Her spirits were lifted whenever Charlie would enter the room. Not to mention, she was beyond relieved that all the fur had gone from her face and her eyes were slowly turning back to their normal auburn brown.

Ron and Harry would join Charlie during the evenings, and the four of them would work on their homework together just like they had done in the library many times before. It wasn't surprising how eager Hermione was to continue her studies despite her current state. Much to Ron's complaints on the matter, her answer always remained the same; she needed to keep up.

"I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" Hermione asked one evening in a whisper, so that Madame Pomfrey couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.

"What's that?" asked Charlie, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her.

He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:
"To Miss Granger, I am wishing you a speedy recovery! From your concerned teacher,
Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."

The brown eyed boy felt a weird feeling similar to disgust in the pit of his stomach. He rolled his eyes as he muttered, "That man has to got to be the most smarmy and conceited man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting."

Harry and Ron laughed, but before Hermione could defend the fact that she didn't gush over Lockhart anymore, Madame Pomfrey ushered the boys out as she approached the girl with her evening dose of medicine. The boys said goodbye to their friend as they gathered their things.

As the three boys left the infirmary, they hurried towards Gryffindor tower. Much to their inconvenience, Snape had given them an absurd amount of homework that they had to yet to finish. Ron had just finished telling the other two that he had wished he asked Hermione for her answers when an angry outburst from the floor above them reached their ears.

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

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

"Of course not! That's not possible," Charlie joked, "Harry's been with us the whole time."

Ron laughed as Harry smacked Charlie on the back of the head with an amused smile. They were snapped out of their small moment at the sound Filch's voice again, 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 - "

His footsteps receded along the out of sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.

The three boys poked their heads around the corner. They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. Then, 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 that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Now what the bloody hell is up with her?" asked Ron, curiously.

Charlie and Harry simply shrugged as they started towards the bathroom door which had a sign saying, "OUT OF ORDER" that had never been there before.

The three boys ignored it as they entered. Moaning Myrtle's cries filled the room. They were, if possible, louder than ever before. She sat hunched over in the middle of the flooded room, wailing uncontrollably.

"Everything alright, Myrtle?" said Charlie, genuinely.

"Who's there?" glugged Myrtle miserably as she turned to face the boys. "Come to throw something else at me?"

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

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, standing abruptly, which splashed more water onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me..."

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

The ginger boy had clearly 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 funny, yet HURTFUL game!"

Ron had been startled by Myrtle's sudden anger towards his comment and took a step back slightly, to which Charlie shook his head, amused.

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

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

Harry, Charlie 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. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Charlie suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Harry.

"You sure you wanna do that?" asked the brown eyed boy. "I mean, there must be a reason someone threw it away in the first place."

Harry thought for a moment, clearly thinking about what his friend had insinuated. The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.

"But, we won't know for sure unless we look in it," he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor.

Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly.

On the first page he could just make out the name, "Tom Marvolo Riddle" in smudged ink.

"Hang on," said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name... Tom Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

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

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

Charlie laughed hysterically as Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank.

"He never wrote in it," Harry stated, disappointed

"Well," Charlie began, "It's not much use to us if it's empty. Let's get out of here before Filch comes back and blames us for this whole mess."

Harry stared at the book once more. The boy felt a weird connection to the black leather-bound book. So, he pocketed it without further question.

-------------

The boys were quick to share with Hermione about what they had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Ron had even explained the significance of Tom Riddle's award in the trophy room.

It took Hermione all of 2 minutes to make the connection that the diary had been written during the time that the Chamber of Secrets was last opened and the maybe, that was why Tom Riddle was given an award in the first place. This was a perfect example of how lost the three boys were without Hermione Granger. She really pulled through for their little team.

"What if he wrote about what he saw?" The girl asked, excitedly, "It's possible he knew where the Chamber was, how to open it, even what sort of creature lives in it. If so, whoever is behind the attacks wouldn't want this diary laying around, would they?"

Charlie nodded, "It's a brilliant theory, Hermione. There's just one little problem. There is nothing written in that diary."

"You lot are thinking about this way too much. 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."

"Maybe," Charlie agreed quietly.

But Harry knew there was something else and he couldn't part with the diary until he figured out what it was.

-----------

A day or two later, Harry approached Charlie, Hermione, and Ron in the courtyard while he was immensely out of breath. He had just ran all over the castle trying to find his friends to tell them about what he had recently discovered about Riddle's diary.

"Take a breath, mate," Ron laughed.

But Harry was too eager, he told them the entire story of the conversation he had with Tom's diary, before concluding it with, "It was Hagrid!" He breathed out, "Hagrid opened the Chamber 50 years ago!"

Charlie was quick to shake his head, "There's no way! It can't be Hagrid, it just can't be."

"I agree with, Charlie." Hermione nodded, "There is no way Hagrid would be capable of doing something like that."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "We don't even know this Tom Riddle! He sounds like a bloody snitch if you ask me!"

"The monster had killed somebody, Ron!" Harry defended, "What would any of us have done?"

"Look," Hermione said with a sigh, "Hagrid's our friend, maybe we should just go ask him about it."

Charlie laughed, "I can only imagine how that conversation would go; 'Hello Hagrid! Tell us have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?' -"

"Mad and hairy?" said a deep voice behind them. The four of them turned to look up at the half-giant who had a smile on his face, "Yeh wouldn't be talkin' 'bout meh, now, would yeh?"

"No." All four of them said in a nervous unison.

Before Hagrid could question their weirdness, Neville Longbottom came running out to the courtyard from a nearby corridor, "Harry! Harry! I don't know who did it, but you best come quick!"

Harry looked to his friends before taking off after Neville. Ron followed suit, but Charlie and Hermione had stayed back a second to excuse themselves to Hagrid. The half-giant understood and went on his way, happily.

As Hermione and Charlie raced after Neville, Ron, and Harry, they found themselves run all the way to the Gryffindor common room. The two of them walked up the stairs to find their friends looking at the boys' dorm room that was now completely destroyed.

Charlie's mouth gaped open as Ludo had crawled out from underneath a blanket on his bed. The furry companion barked happily at the sight of his owner standing there, almost as if the puppy was relieved and all the fear seemed to escape him. The brown eyed boy walked over to the dog and sat next to him, causing Ludo to nuzzle into his lap. Charlie gave him a pat on the head before turning to his friends, "What the bloody hell happened?"

Harry didn't say anything as he moved towards his bedside table and furiously searched through his destroyed belongings, clearly looking for something.

"It had to be a Gryffindor," Hermione stated, looking at the room, aghast, "No one else knows our password. Well, unless it wasn't a student."

"Whoever it was, they must have been looking for something," Ron said with a gulp.

Harry frustratedly threw a book down on his bed, "Yeah, and they found it." He said with a huff, "Tom Riddle's diary is gone."

Charlie sighed, clearly annoyed, "Brilliant."

------------

A month or so had gone by and the four Gryffindors still had no luck in retrieving Tom Riddle's diary.

They were honestly too preoccupied with choosing their courses for next year, as well as finishing up the work that had already been assigned to them. Not to mention, Harry and Charlie had many Quidditch practices that they had to attend in order to prepare for their upcoming match against Hufflepuff.

On the day of the match, Charlie and Harry were looking forward to the game as a way of lifting their spirits. They had joined their teammates as Oliver Wood gave his signature pep talk before they were about to be announced.

Charlie was just about to mount his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous megaphone.

Charlie's heart dropped like a stone and Harry's face had fallen immediately.

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts.

Oliver Wood, looking devastated, ran towards Professor McGonagall. "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 and Charlie over to her, "Hawthorne. Potter. I think you two had better come with me..."

The two boys looked at one another confused. How could she possibly suspect that they had anything to do with whatever was happening? They've been with the Quidditch team since the afternoon!

Charlie looked to the stands nervously to see Ron detach himself from the panicked crowd as he came running up to them before they set off toward the castle.

To Charlie's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object. "Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley..."

"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... another double attack."

The brown eyed boy's insides did a horrible somersault while Harry and Ron seemed to share the same feeling. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and the boys entered.

Madame Pomfrey was bending over a fifth year girl with long, curly hair, that Charlie recognized as Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw Prefect that was smitten for Percy Weasley.

And on the bed next to her was -

"Hermione!" Ron groaned.

Charlie's eyes widen as his heart sunk further into his stomach than he ever thought was possible, "Oh my god..."

The brown eyed boy quickly ran over to her hospital bed and looked down at her. Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.

"H-How did this happen?!" Charlie stuttered, fighting back obvious somber emotion.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall as she shook her head. "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.

Harry and Ron shook their heads, while Charlie simply kept his concerned gaze locked on Hermione.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students all at once."

"No!" Charlie protested, "I'm not just going to leave her here... not like this!"

McGonagall approached the boy before she put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Please,Charles. There is nothing you can do for her now. All you can do is await instruction like everyone else."

"But Profess-"

"Please," McGonagall pleaded once more.

Charlie was clearly not going to win this battle. So, he gave Hermione's petrified body one last glance before he hestitantly walked towards the exit of the infirmary with Harry and Ron trailing sadly behind him.

As the three boys left, Charlie shut out the minimal chatter between Harry and Ron. The boy was too focused on the image that now haunted his mind.

There she was, Hermione Granger, looking close to dead in her petrified state. The boy shook his head to try and clear the thought from his head. He couldn't think about it anymore or else he might breakdown.

The worst part for him was the fact that McGonagall was right, he couldn't do anything to help her.

His best friend was lying emotionless and dead behind the eyes in the hospital wing and all he could do was wait for Professor Sprout's antidote. The mere thought of continuing on without Hermione by his side killed him; it ate him up inside.

This was never supposed to happen... especially not to her.

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

Honestly, these chapters just keep getting longer and longer because I just want to love on to Prisoner of Azkaban ahahaha.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! You know what to do if you do!

Much love, until next time!

xo, Selena