Chapter Twenty Two
Hermione visited him two days later and found him sitting upright in the lavish chair beside his bed. He was wearing his robe and grey slippers and still looked quite pale. He brightened slightly seeing her and attempted to stand up. He succeeded and opened his arms with a wide grin. "Pomfrey has to let me go soon, right?"
"You'd probably be safer and happier in here," she responded quietly as she ushered him onto the bed and sat beside him. He caught the depressed tone in her voice and cursed himself again for not being able to do anything. He contemplated holding her hand but a strange nervousness kept him from doing so.
"I have an idea," he said cutting through the silence. She looked at him suspiciously and shifted around to see him better, drawing her legs over the edge of the bed and crossing them. "What is it?"
"Well the reason I went to talk to Ginny that day was to get a diary from her. She'd been writing in it for weeks. She was involved Hermione. I know she was…I have to get that diary. From what I've heard, her roommates took her bag and put it back in her dorm. So once I get it, well we can just progress from there."
Inwardly, Hermione was frightened at the prospect of him running off into danger before he was completely recovered but she knew that there was nothing to stop him. Harry had very few boundaries as he broke many of them down in order to ensure safety for others. "I'll do it." She stated firmly surprising him. "It will be easy if I do it. They'll just think the Weasleys asked me to get something of Ginny's."
"Well…that's perfect. But still be as quiet as you can. I don't want anybody to know what we're doing. It's risky enough as it is."
"Hello Harry." They both looked up to see Mr. Davis grinning at them. He was holding a box of Honeydukes chocolates and was wearing a blue sweater vest. Placing the chocolates on the bedside table he settled into the seat across from them. "Madam Pomfrey said you were healing well. Out soon I suppose," he said cheerily.
Harry knew that Mr. Davis was fishing around for conversation. His nervous stuttering side was still apparent but he had improved greatly, especially due to his relationship.
"I want to get straight back to training," Harry said determinedly. Seeing Mr. Davis attempt to protest he continued. "You know as well as I do who could be doing this. So the need to train increases. My fighting capabilities are crucial, no matter what way you look at this."
Davis removed his glasses, wiped them and returned them to his face. "I suppose it will help returning you to full fitness. Now that the Quidditch Tournament has been cancelled I suppose you can concentrate more."
Harry had already been notified about the cancellation. Though shocked he realised it would take some pressure off him when he regained his training.
"I thought that Dumbledore would keep it running, to give the students something to look forward to," said Hermione thoughtfully.
Davis shook his head. "No, I'm sure he wants students to be on constant alert mode. This way they have no where to be but in classes, the Great Hall or their common rooms. It's safer."
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"Got it," Hermione sighed, relieved, as she slowed her sprint when she reached his bed. A day had passed since Harry had spoken to her about it and the Hospital Wing was devoid of all lively people. "There was nobody in her dorm so it was easier than I thought it would be. It's strange because there doesn't seem to be anything written in it."
Harry took it pensively and flipped through the cracked ancient pages. Hermione was indeed correct in her assumptions, only the date adorned the pages. Turning to the back cover he ran his hand across gold lettering that indented the leather. "It's nearly fifty years old," he muttered, bewildered.
"Look," he instructed, handing it back to Hermione and indicating the writing. "There's a date and address. Obviously a muggle address which indicates that the owner of this is not Ginny. She must have found it somewhere. I think that this is the source of this…power or whatever it is."
Hermione carefully placed the crinkled diary on the bed between them. "But where's the writing? Oh…" she said excitedly. "It could be invisible ink." She waved her wand across the pages and muttered a revealing charm. "I guess not," she deadpanned. Harry remained staring at the blank pages. Suddenly Hermione bolted to her schoolbag and removed a standard quill from inside it. Leaping back onto the bed beside Harry she touched the tip of the quill on the page. She glanced at Harry's confused expression before continuing to write carefully the word Hello.
They both drew a sharp breath as the ink dissolved into the yellow page and new words formed on the surface. Well hello to you too. Whom, may I ask, am I currently writing to?
Hermione went to resume writing but Harry caught her wrist. "This is dangerous," he whispered almost afraid the mysterious writer would overhear.
"I know but it's all we've got Harry."
Do you know anything concerning the Chamber of Secrets?
Their hearts quickened as new words appeared in neat looping fashion. Yes. It played a large part in my life when I was a student in Hogwarts. Now, who am I writing to?
You give me your name and I shall give you mine?
There's no need to be so suspicious or cautious. I won't bite! My name is Tom.
"Hermione, stop." Harry cautioned. "He's lying."
"How do you know?" she asked incredulously.
"Cause I've heard that name before. I just…can't remember," Harry said rubbing his head. It was important but he just could not place it. "Harry, please …it's a very common name," Hermione sighed in frustration. Harry felt like something very significant had been wiped from his memory. He turned to see Hermione scribbling again.
What do you mean? Was it opened before?
Well you are perceptive. It wreaked havoc in my time. I suppose it's doing the same in yours.
"No Hermione stop," Harry warned furiously. He tried to snatch the quill from her hand but she grabbed the diary and moved away from the bed. "Don't you see how dangerous this is?! It's already causing us to fight." She looked at him slowly and he climbed off the bed towards her but before he reached her she was being sucked into the diary. With a small flump the diary landed on the floor, it pages facing the vaulting ceiling. "Hermione!" he bounded over to the diary. Written on its pages were the words
Let me show you.
Just as Harry was contemplating running for help Hermione was thrown out of the diary and lay sprawled on the floor, her chest heaving. Harry sighed as he realised she was not hurt. "What happened? What did he show you?"
"It was Hagrid, Harry. He showed me how he had caught Hagrid with some sort of monster and…and then how they had expelled Hagrid."
"No it can't be. He wouldn't hurt a soul, not purposefully. Why on earth would he hurt me? It doesn't make sense Hermione."
"But that's what he showed me. I saw it," she cried as he helped her to her feet.
"It might not have been true. It could just be a fantasy or…"
"It was a memory Harry. And somebody was dead…why would he show me that?"
"Hermione, that's what I've been saying from the beginning. This diary is dangerous. Look at what it's done to Ginny. Somehow…this diary, or memory or whatever it is, it's controlling what is happening. Whoever this Tom is, he was using Ginny. And he has just tried to use you…"
"No," she yelled cutting across him. "He is telling the truth. He's trying to help us Harry."
"Do you honestly think he helped Ginny?!" Harry roared at her. Anybody else would have cowered in front of Harry's fury but Hermione did not flinch.
"It wasn't him. I know it wasn't," she ascertained. It dawned on Harry that the diary had already taken affect on Hermione.
"Ron told me that Ginny was trying to defend something the day before she was attacked. Kept muttering incessantly about how it would be fine as long as it stayed with her." He paused letting the words sink in to Hermione. "Hermione, your mind is being messed with so just…"
"It is not! How can you say that? Harry it's me and I'm telling you that the attacker is Hagrid. It was then and it is now."
"Hermione," he said softly taking a step closer to her. She pushed him away roughly which sent a wave of indescribable dread through him. "You have to listen to me," he said tensely. "Remember what happened to me, to Ginny, to Colin, to Roger and Justin. Don't let the same happen to you."
"No, you listen to me. It was not Tom, it was Hagrid. We have to go and tell the authorities so we can stop him." She clutched the thin green manuscript closer to her chest.
"Do you even remember Hagrid?" Harry asked fearfully. Hermione rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Of course I do. Now come on we have to..."
"If you remembered him then we would not be having this argument. Hermione, somebody has tainted your judgement."
"For the love of Merlin Harry my judgement has not been tainted!" she exclaimed waving her arms emphatically.
"Then why did you shove me away. The Hermione I know, the thinker, no…" he laughed darkly "she'd never do that."
He watched edgily as she shut her eyes in a vain attempt to think clearly. After what seemed like an age she took a shuddering breath and clapped her hand to her mouth in shock. "I'm so sorry…I don't know what happened. I just…"
Steeling himself Harry approached her again and when he got close enough he reached out to her shoulder. "It's alright. It isn't your fault but we have to get rid of the diary now before it gets into unreachable hands." He released a sigh as she practically thrust it into his hands. "Okay let's get this to Dumbledore."
With two cracking sounds the diary had vanished from his hands. "What the hell!"
"Where did it go?" Hermione yelled in amazement. Harry who found himself holding thin air with his vacant hands felt all his worst fears realised. He fruitlessly dove under his bed, rifled through all his belongings and pulled all the sheets off his bed. "Harry, it didn't run away from you…somebody took it." Harry growled angrily and slumped against the bedside cabinet.
"As for whom I have no idea," Hermione continued. "I mean who on earth can apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds."
"Dobby," stated Harry dejectedly. He had no clue how to get in contact with the melancholy House-Elf. "He knew how lethal the diary is and he tried to protect me from it."
Hermione slouched down close beside him so that their feet were outstretched in front of them. "Wow, that didn't last very long."
"What didn't?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"That small teeny glimpse of hope," he replied, holding his hand out and measuring the distance with his index finger and thumb. "Basically over before it began."
She touched his outstretched hand with hers softly and closed the distance between his fingers. "I'm glad you're back…now I don't need to depend on hope alone."
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