It'd been days since (Y/N), Harry and Ron dropped Hermione off at the hospital wing. Like most things at Hogwarts, her disappearance set the school ablaze with rumor and speculation; everyone thought she'd been attacked. Students spent most of their free periods trying to catch a glimpse of her in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had to place curtains around Hermione's bed to give her a moment's peace.

Every evening, (Y/N), Harry, and Ron went to visit her. The night before term started, she insisted that they remember to bring her every day's homework.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table. "I'd take a break from work."

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up." She reached for a textbook straightaway. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?"

"Nothing," answered Harry.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron.

"Were you?" (Y/N) asked irritably. "Even after I told you it wasn't?"

"Yeah, yeah," he rolled his eyes; they had that conversation many times before.

Harry hurried to talk about something else, opting to point at the gold paper under Hermione's pillow. "What's that?"

"Just a get-well card," Hermione tried to tuck it back under her pillow and out of sight, but Ron was too quick. He snatched it to him, opened it up, and read:

"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 Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."

Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.

"You sleep with this under your pillow?"

Luckily for Hermione, Madam Pomfrey arrived just then to give her her evening dose of medicine, whisking the three of them away.

They decided to head back to Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them enough homework to last for the term and they knew they should get started.

"Say, (Y/N)," said Ron, climbing the stairs. "How many rat tails do we add to a Hair Raising Potion again?"

"Two," she said, "sliced. And don't forget th--"

(Y/N) stepped right into a puddle of cold water. She staggered backward, bumping into Harry. He pressed a hand to her arm to help steady her and (Y/N) felt her face burn.

"Yuck!" Exclaimed Ron, shaking off his shoe.

"Looks like Moaning Myrtle's flooded the bathroom," Harry said.

From somewhere far down the corridor, (Y/N) could hear Myrtle wailing louder than ever before. "What do you think happened?"

"Let's go see," Harry pulled his robes above his ankles and began through the water.

(Y/N) and Ron shared an apprehensive look; comforting Myrtle was the last thing they wanted to do. Still, they followed after him.

By the time they arrived, the water rose up to (Y/N)'s ankles. Myrtle moped in the window, illuminated by the setting sunlight behind her. The bathroom had gone dark besides that, for all of the candles had been extinguished by the great rush of water from the sinks.

"Come to throw something else at me?" Myrtle asked miserably.

Harry frowned. "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me!" Myrtle stood and floated to them. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."

"But it can't hurt if someone throws something at you. I mean, it'll just go right through you." Ron shrugged. 

He'd said the wrong thing. Myrtle, eyes welling with fresh tears, puffed up and shrieked, "Oh, sure! Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it! Ten points if you get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head!"

"Myrtle," (Y/N) tried instead. "Do you know who threw the book at you?"

"No," she answered pitifully. "I didn't see them. I was just sitting in the U-bend thinking about death," she sighed wistfully. "And it just fell right through the top of my head."

Crying again, but quieter than before, Myrtle sulked back to her place in the window, staring at the setting sun.

Harry moved deeper into the room to fetch a small, black book that lay in the water. Ron's arm flew out to stop him.

"Are you mental?" he exclaimed. "It could be dangerous!"

"Dangerous?" Harry smiled. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"It's a mysterious magic book someone tried to flush down the toilet, Harry," said (Y/N).

Ron nodded profusely. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated Dad's told me -- everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives."

"I've read of one that burns your eyes out," (Y/N) added.

"And some old witch in Bath had a book you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And--"

"All right, I've got the point," said Harry.

(Y/N) eyed the book, plain and soggy.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," Harry said quickly, and he ducked around Ron's arm and picked it up out of the water.

(Y/N) watched him turn it carelessly in his hands, flipping without fear through the pages. "At least be careful!" She insisted.

"It's just a diary," he assured her. "And there's nothing in it besides this." He pointed to T. M. Riddle written on the first page in smudged ink.

"Hang on," Ron cautiously peeked over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name! T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

(Y/N) frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," he grumbled.

(Y/N) looked at the diary again. "You're sure there's nothing in it?"

Harry shook his head, flipping through the pages once more. "Nothing,"

"Then why would someone bother to throw it away?"

Ron stared at it for a moment before he decided, "Well, it's not much use to you."

"Wait, maybe Riddle wrote in invisible ink!" said (Y/N). "We should hold onto it."

"For what?" Ron crinkled his nose. "To read about who he fancied?"

"The diary is fifty years old, isn't it? And that's when he got his award. Draco told us the Chamber was opened fifty years ago..."

Ron stared blankly but Harry understood what she was saying. "He might've caught the Heir of Slytherin!"

"Exactly, and if that's true, the diary might tell us everything! Let's keep it," said (Y/N). "Hermione might know a spell."

Harry agreed and he pocketed the book. When they asked Hermione after she was released from the hospital wing, she tried everything she could think of to reveal the diary's secret, but nothing worked. They didn't get their answer until February.

It came, in some strange way, thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart. He'd taken it upon himself to provide the school with a morale booster on the fourteenth of February -- at breakfast with large, bright pink flowers plastered to the Great Hall Walls and heart-shaped confetti that kept falling on (Y/N)'s toast. Worst of all we're the dwarfs Lockhart forced to deliver valentines to students. They were surly-looking; (Y/N) and Dean spent most of breakfast trying to decide if it was because of their ridiculous costumes (golden wings and heavy-looking harps) or their task. His card-carrying cupids, Lockhart called them. (Y/N) called them unnecessary.

She and her friends ate what they could salvage from the confetti, then they were off to class.

They'd barely left the Great Hall when a dwarf chased Harry down to deliver a valentine. He tried his best to escape, but the dwarf was relentless. He went to every extent: apprehending Harry by his bag (which made his bag rip and his scarlet ink spill all over his schoolbooks), pushing Ron away when he tried to help, and even tackling poor Harry to the ground in the middle of the crowded hallway. Once he was sure Harry couldn't escape, the dwarf sang a loud song about his emerald eyes and his triumph over the Dark Lord. Harry's face went as scarlet as his ink.

"Wow," said Seamus, barely able to hold in his laughter. "You really wanted Harry to get that valentine."

"What?" (Y/N) was sure her face was just about as red as Harry's. "I didn't send that!"

She spent the rest of the walk to Charms trying to convince Seamus and Dean to let it go.

It was halfway through class when Harry leaned over to (Y/N), hair still messy from his run-in with the dwarf. "Look at this," he whispered, passing T. M. Riddle's diary along to her. "All of my other books -- they're still covered in ink. But this one is fine!"

(Y/N) flipped through the pages, and Harry was right. It looked as though it hadn't been inked at all, the pages as plain as they'd always been. She reached for her quill, dipped it in the ink, and drew a line down the center of the page.

Together, she and Harry watched as the line seemed to melt away to nothing. (Y/N) dipped her quill again, trying to think of something to say.

"Hello," she wrote. "My name is (Y/N),"

The words shone momentarily on the page until they, too, sank away without a trace. It was then that something finally happened.

"Hello, (Y/N). My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

Harry gazed at (Y/N) in amazement. "Tell him someone tried to flush it," he said.

"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet,"

They waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.

"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"Meaning?" (Y/N) scribbled.

"Meaning, that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"(L/N), Potter," said Professor Flitwick, startling the two of them apart. (Y/N) hurried to close the diary and tuck it under her desk. "Would one of you care to demonstrate the charm for the class?"

Neither one of them could, but luckily Hermione's hand shot straight into the air.

That night, Harry went to bed before anyone else. (Y/N) thought it was because Fred and George wouldn't stop singing "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad," but he said he wanted to examine Riddle's diary again and figure out what he could.

Come morning, Harry had learned everything. He told them, again and again, what Riddle had shown him last night, leaving them with only one explanation.

"It was Hagrid," He told (Y/N), Hermione, and Ron in a low voice the next morning after breakfast. "Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago!"

"It can't be Hagrid," said Hermione, voicing what they all wanted to believe. "It just can't be."

Hagrid always had a love for large, monstrous creatures. (Y/N) hadn't forgotten about the dragon he tried to raise in his wooden house, nor the giant three-headed dog he'd named Fluffy. She imagined that if Hagrid learned about a creature who lived under the school, he'd think it'd be a shame that it had to be cooped up there, and he'd want to let it out for a chance to stretch its legs. "He may not have known," (Y/N) tried. "Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody."

Hermione bit her lip anxiously, still trying to make sense of it. "Riddle might have got the wrong person. Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people..."

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

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

"We don't even know this Riddle! He sounds like a dirty, rotten snitch to me," decided Ron.

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

"Look," Hermione took a breath, then hesitantly said, "Hagrid's our friend. Why don't we just go ask him about it."

"That'll be a cheerful visit!" said Ron, sarcasm lacing his tone. "'Hello, Hagrid! Tell us: have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'"

"Mad n' hairy?" boomed Hagrid's cheerful voice. "Yeh wouldn' happen ter be talkin' abou' me, would yeh?"

"No!" insisted (Y/N), but all three of her friends said it just as urgently as she did and Hagrid did not fail to notice their strange behavior.

"W-What's that you've got, Hagrid?" Harry hurried to change the subject.

"Oh," He lifted the canister he held in his hand. "It's Flesh-Eating Slug Repellen'. Fer the mandrakes, y'know. Accordin' ter Professor Sprout, they've still got a bit o' growin' up ter do. But once their acne's cleared up, we'll be able ter chop 'em up and stew 'em--" Hermione gasped. "--and then we'll get those people at the hospital un-Petrified. In the meantime, though, I suggest yeh four had best be lookin' after yourselves. Alright?"

They nodded all too quickly. "'Course, Hagrid," (Y/N) managed, just to fill the silence.

He nodded, satisfied with their answer, and then he stalked off. Just as he'd gone, Neville Longbottom came racing out of the corridor, struggling to catch his breath.

"Harry -- I don't know who did it, but you better come!" And just as quickly as he arrived, he scurried off, leaving the four students no choice but to follow them.

Neville lead them all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, up the stairs, and to the left to the boys' dormitory.

Their room had been ransacked. Crumpled-up parchment lay amidst the shattered glass and broken picture frames. Someone had torn down the curtains off of someone's bed and most of the pillows had been ripped open. Their feathers were scattered around haphazardly atop a pile of school books. Hedwig was so riled up, she'd tucked herself in a far corner of the room.

Harry was the first to move. He went straight to his books and hurriedly began sorting through them.

"It had to be a Gryffindor," said Hermione. "Nobody else knows our password."

"It looks like something Peeves might do," (Y/N) said hopefully.

"I don't think so," Harry looked over at her. "Tom Riddle's diary is gone. Someone must've taken it."

***

The next morning was sunny and cool.

(Y/N) purposefully left her scarf behind in her dormitory when she met with Harry and Ron in the Common Room for breakfast. Lucky for her, Harry'd already brought his scarf along suggested that she wear it, so he wouldn't have to go back upstairs. But, she'd seen the way his face lit up when she descended the steps without her scarf. She wondered if he'd hoped she'd forget it again.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Ron as they began to leave.

"The library," (Y/N) answered. "She said she'd figured something out and ran off before I could ask what. She said she'd meet us at the pitch, though."

But by the time Ron and (Y/N) were in the stands and Harry was doing a few warm up flights around the goalposts with Oliver Wood, Professor McGonagall came marching onto the pitch with purpose.

"This match has been canceled!" said McGonagall, pointing her wand to her throat. Students booed and shouted and a devastated Oliver Wood landed and ran towards her, shouting: "We can't cancel Quidditch!"

Professor McGonagall didn't pay him any attention. "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!"

"What do you think happened?" Dean asked, still staring down at the field.

"Another attack?" (Y/N) tried.

"Then what's she want with Harry?" Seamus pointed below. McGonagall had beckoned him over and was talking to him urgently.

"She can't suspect him...?"

"She shouldn't! He's been with us all morning!" Ron started towards the exit. "Let's go!"

"We'll go with you!" said Dean.

"Wait," said (Y/N). "If it really was another attack, you should go back to the common room with everyone else. It's Muggleborns they're after."

She almost felt bad for saying it, but Dean only nodded. "Okay, sure," he said, looking brave. "We'll see you there, then."

So, the four parted ways. (Y/N) and Ron met with Harry just off the pitch. McGonagall didn't even give them a moment to insist upon Harry's innocence before she said: "Yes, perhaps you two had better come along, as well..."

(Y/N) could tell by her grim tone that McGonagall didn't suspect anyone. Something horrible must've happened.

She brought them back into the castle and up the marble staircase. But not to an office like (Y/N) half expected. She'd brought them to the infirmary instead.

"I warn you, this could be a wee bit of a shock."

(Y/N) felt sick. Madam Pomfrey was bent over a small, bushy-haired girl who lay frozen in her cot. (Y/N) couldn't bring herself to move as Ron and Harry stepped past McGonagall to see her glassy eyes staring at the ceiling. She hoped it wasn't true. She hoped she was dreaming.

"Hermione!"

"She was found near the library, along with this." McGonagall held up an ornate golden mirror (Y/N) hadn't ever seen before. "Does this mean anything to you?"

"No," came Harry's grim reply.

McGonagall pressed a hand to (Y/N)'s shoulder; a bit of a shock for both of them. "I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," she said. "I need to address the students in any case."

Dean and Seamus were eagerly waiting for the news when (Y/N), Harry, and Ron arrived. (Y/N) couldn't say it, but Harry told them what they'd seen. Lavender Brown, who was close enough to overhear, turned to the Patil twins and began whispering fearfully to them. Dean and Seamus looked as ill as (Y/N) felt.

"Could I have your attention, please?" said McGonagall. All of the frenzied students quieted down. "Because of recent events, these rules will be put into effect immediately: 'All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock every evening. All students will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No exceptions.'"

(Y/N)'s heart raced. A few of the older students shared apprehensive looks that did nothing for her nerves.

"I should tell you this," McGonagall sounded very grim. "Unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will be closed."

It wasn't until McGonagall climbed out of the portrait hole that any Gryffindor student dared to speak. Lee Jordan, who was quite convinced all the attacks were a Slytherin's doing, suggested chucking all of the Slytherins out. A few of the Gryffindor's applauded him. Meanwhile, George was whispering to Fred about a Ravenclaw prefect who'd been attacked: Penelope Clearwater.

Harry leaned closer to (Y/N), looking quite panicked. "We've got to talk to Hagrid." He told her and Ron in a low voice. "I can't believe it's him, but if he did set the monster loose last time, he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

"But you heard McGonagall!" Ron tried to keep his voice low, too. "We're not allowed to leave the tower except for class."

Harry brought his voice down even lower still, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "I think it's time to get my Dad's old cloak out again."

So, (Y/N) went to her dormitory with Lavender, Parvati, and Padma, waited until they exhausted all of their theories and fell asleep, and went down to the empty common room to meet with Harry and Ron.

She hadn't realized how much the two boys had grown until all three of them stood smushed together under the cloak. The entire journey through the castle, she worried one might step too far and poke their foot out from the cloak. Normally, it wouldn't be a worry in her mind – she and Harry had explored the castle at night many times and it was never busy – but that night, the corridors were crowded with professors, prefects, and even castle ghosts. They reached the front doors in time and snuck outside with great relief.

The night was beautiful and clear and the stars glistened above them. All three of them hurried to Hagrid's hut, (Y/N) knocked twice, and not two seconds later, Hagrid flung open the door and pointed a crossbow right at their noses.

"Hello?" he called. "Hello?"

They hurried to shrug off the cloak and Harry, still looking quite startled, shouted, "What's that for?"

"Oh," Hagrid lowered his weapon. "Nothin'. I-I was expectin', ah... It doesn't matter." He opened his door wide and moved inside. "Come on in. I just made a pot o' tea."

(Y/N) could tell Hagrid didn't quite know what he was doing. He burned his fingers reaching for the pot. The teacup he filled spilled over as he glanced cautiously outside his window.

"Hagrid, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he answered. He finally stopped pouring the tea, only seeming to notice just then what he'd done. "I'm alrigh'." He moved to the next cup.

(Y/N) moved forward cautiously, reaching for a rag on the table. She began cleaning up the mess he left behind just so she wouldn't have to meet his eyes when she asked, "Have you-- er, heard anything about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard about tha' alrigh'." (Y/N) thought she heard his voice break just a bit. He spared one more nervous glance over his shoulder.

"Look," said Harry and (Y/N) almost sighed with relief. "We need to ask you something." He took a breath, then mustering up all his courage, asked Hagrid, "Do you know who's opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

Hagrid dropped his gaze as if he were afraid to meet their eyes. He shifted his weight nervously. "What you have ter understand about tha' is--"

There were three sharp knocks at the door, startling (Y/N) enough to make her drop the rag she was holding. Hagrid shooed them into the corner. "Quick, under the cloak. Don' say a word, any o' yeh."

(Y/N) rushed to Ron and Harry, only briefly catching a glimpse of their panicstricken faces before Ron draped the cloak over all three of them. They'd just settled in when Hagrid opened the door.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" Hagrid exclaimed, sounding relieved.

"Good evening, Hagrid. I wonder, could we...?"

"Of course!" Hagrid hurriedly stepped aside. "Come in! Come in."

Dumbledore entered, followed by a man (Y/N) scarcely recognized. He had rumpled gray hair and an uneasy expression. She remembered him by his strange choice of dress; she'd seen him once or twice when she went to the Ministry with Lucius.

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

Harry elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up.

Fudge stepped forward, looking grim. "Bad business, Hagrid, very bad business. Had to come -- three attacks on Muggleborns. This have gone far enough; the Ministry's got to act!"

Hagrid looked appalled and had gone pale. "Oh, but I'd never! You know I'd never, Professor!"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, turning to the Minister. "I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence."

"Look, Albus," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record is against him. I've got to take him."

"Take me?" Hagrid looked mortified. "Take me where? Not Azkaban Prison!"

(Y/N) watched with widened eyes as Fudge dropped his gaze to the ground. "I'm afraid we have no choice, Hagrid."

(Y/N) hadn't realized she gasped until she felt Harry's hand clamp over her mouth. She staggered backwards as Fudge glanced her way, and she was almost certain they'd been found when--

"Already here, Fudge? Good."

(Y/N) was grateful for Harry; she'd nearly gasped a second time. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, his cold eyes peering disapprovingly around. He was dressed in his dark traveling robes, his long, pale hair tied neatly with a silk black ribbon.

"What're you doin' here?" Hagrid was furious. "Get outta my house!"

"Believe me," Lucius stepped closer to where (Y/N) and her friends stood. She didn't even dare to breathe. "I take absolutely no pleasure being inside your -- er, you call this a house? Hm." He peered right over their heads, making a face she'd seen on Draco hundreds of times before: disgust. "No, I simply called the school and was told the Headmaster was here."

"Well, what exactly is it that you want with me?" Dumbledore spoke to him politely, but there was no mistaking the anger that shone in his blue eyes.

Lucius was always quite astute, so he did not miss it. (Y/N) recognized the refined look of disapproval he wore. "The other governors and I have decided it's time for you to step aside. This is an order of suspension." He passed along a rolled-up piece of parchment, his thin lips curling slightly upwards. "You'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you've rather... lost your touch. Well, what with all these attacks, there'll be no more Muggleborns left at Hogwarts. I can only imagine what an awful loss that would be to the school."

"Yeh can' take Professor Dumbledore away!" Hagrid bellowed. "Take him away an' the muggleborns won't stand a chance! Yeh mark my words, they'll be killins next!"

(Y/N)'s godfather turned and raised a brow. "You think so?"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid." Dumbledore sounded calm, as always. "If the governors desire my removal, I will, of course step aside. However, you will find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." His piercing blue eyes fell right on the three students huddled close together under the invisibility cloak. (Y/N)'s breath caught and she felt Ron tense behind her.

"Admirable sentiments," Lucius said dismissively. "Shall we?"

He left without looking backwards, and Dumbledore, with one final glance at the trio of second years, followed.

Hagrid shifted awkwardly where he stood. Fudge eyed him expectantly. "Come, Hagrid." But he did not budge. "Well?"

Hagrid coughed, glancing not-so-subtly where (Y/N), Ron, and Harry stood. "If, uh... If anybody was looking for some stuff, then all they'd have to do would be to follow the spiders." (Y/N) and Harry shared an apprehensive look. "Yup! That would lead them right! That's all I have to say. Oh, and someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm away."

Ron pulled off the cloak as soon as the door shut behind Hagrid and Fudge. "Hagrid's right! With Dumbledore gone, there'll be an attack a day!"

Harry looked past Ron, green eyes narrowing as he approached an open window. "Look,"

He'd found two rows of large spiders scurrying up the wall and outside. There was something unnatural in the way they moved. As if they were hurrying off to some important meeting.

Harry reached for the heavy lantern on the wall, starting towards the door without a hint of hesitation. "Well, come on!" He said, beckoning for (Y/N) and Ron to follow. "Come on, Fang."

When Hagrid said follow the spiders (Y/N) hoped he hadn't meant something so literal. She swallowed the lump in her throat and followed Harry out of the door. Ron whimpered and kept close behind her.

"Come on," Harry looked back at (Y/N) and Ron, clearly not pleased with how slowly they were moving.

Ron, however, had gone pale. He looked at (Y/N) in utter disbelief before addressing Harry. "What?"

"You heard what Hagrid said: 'follow the spiders.'"

"They're headed into the Dark Forest!" Exclaimed Ron.

But Harry pressed on anyway.

"Why spiders?" Grumbled Ron as he followed. "Why couldn't it be 'follow the butterflies'?"

The forest was just as dark as (Y/N) remembered, and much colder. She could hardly see through the thin layer of fog ahead of them, so she stuck close to Harry's side, her heart racing. She wished she'd brought a coat, or at least the scarf he'd let her borrow.

"Guys, I don't like this..." Ron squeaked behind them.

They pressed forward, deeper into the forest than they'd gone before. (Y/N) tried to ignore the way she could hear the swarm of spiders -- which had notably grown -- crawling across the ground.

Ron tripped over a root. "Guys, I don't like this at all,"

"Shh!" Harry shined the lantern on the ground, revealing even more spiders than (Y/N) had thought. Her breath hitched and her hand caught Harry's in the dark.

Even in the dim light, she could see the scarlet that dusted his cheeks.

"S-Sorry," She knew she should've let go, but she felt as though she couldn't move.

Nothing quite matched the comfort she felt when Harry tightened his grip on her hand (even though she hadn't tried to pull away). "It's okay," he said, unable to meet her eyes.

Her face flushed. She wondered if Harry liked the comfort of feeling her close to him; to be able to know without looking that she followed.

They began to move ahead, but (Y/N) felt something hot and heavy cling to her arm. She nearly screamed, but upon turning around, found it was only Ron.

"Can we go back now?" He asked, tears shining in his eyes.

Harry looked annoyed, but gentler than he'd been before, he said, "Let's go,"

So they listened, and deeper into the forest they went, past more and more spiders and further into the darkness of the unknown. Ron had all but climbed on top of (Y/N). He hugged her arm like a lifeline, whimpering at every new spider that crossed in his path. Once or twice, he'd tearfully told (Y/N), "Ask Harry to go back. He'll listen to you." But (Y/N) thought of Hermione, Dean, and all the other Muggleborns at Hogwarts. She thought of Hagrid, on his way to Azkaban. They could not go back, not without answers.

Finally, they reached a clearing dimly lit by the moonlight peeking through the trees.

"Something's moving," whispered (Y/N). She felt her heart race as she tried to tuck herself behind Harry. "There, in the trees,"

Ron hugged her arm tighter, squeaking just about as much as his rat. Harry, who was much braver than his two friends, squeezed (Y/N)'s hand just a little tighter, and shined the lantern towards the trees.

"Who is it?" asked a low, raspy voice.

(Y/N) staggered backwards. She was sure Ron was likely to faint.

"Don't panic," whispered Harry.

"Brilliant," she said breathlessly. "Hadn't thought of that,"

"Hagrid, is that you?" The voice asked again.

"We're friends of Hagrid's!" Harry called over the thrashing branches.

Eight long, hairy legs emerged from somewhere in the ground and a spider the size of a small elephant slowly approached. Ron stumbled away, pulling (Y/N), and then Harry with him.

"And you?" (Y/N) could hear the unease in Harry's voice. "Y-You're Aragog, aren't you?"

"Yes..." He said, black, glassy eyes peering lazily at them. "Hagrid has never sent anyone into our hollow before..."

"He's in trouble. Up at the school, there have been attacks. They think it's Hagrid! They think he opened the Chamber of Secrets like before."

"That's a lie!" Said Aragog. "Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Then you're not the monster," said Harry, visibly confused.

"No! The monster was born in the castle. I came to Hagrid from a distant land, in the pocket of a traveler."

(Y/N) found it hard to believe that Aragog, who was bigger than they were combined, once was small enough to fit in someone's pocket.

"Harry." Ron whimpered.

"Shh!" Harry waved him off. "But if you're not the monster, then... then what did kill that girl fifty years ago?"

"We do not speak of it. It is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others."

"You've seen it?" (Y/N) was surprised to hear herself speak.

She wished she hadn't. Aragog's black eyes focused on her and glued her to her spot. "I never saw any part of the castle but the box in which Hagrid kept me. The girl was discovered in a bathroom. When I was accused, Hagrid brought me here."

Ron tugged on (Y/N)'s arm and pointed a trembling finger up. Up at the large spiders descending from the treetops. Up at the pincers and webs and extended hairy legs. She swallowed the lump in her throat, already starting to back away when she found her voice.

"Harry..."

He glanced back at her, followed her gaze, and saw the spiders pressing closer and closer on all sides. Aragog seemed to be done talking; he began backing slowly into where he rested before, not even bothering to tell his spiders to go away.

"Well," said Harry, trying his best to hide his fear. He was not fooling (Y/N) -- she felt him bring her closer and saw the way he started to inch backwards. It only made her nervous. "Thank you. We'll just... go."

"Go?" questioned Aragog. Ron nodded meekly. "I think not. My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid on my command, but I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst."

Ron was hugging (Y/N)'s arm so tightly she'd nearly lost all feeling. Spiders smaller than Aragog, but still about their size, crept in on them from every direction, clicking their massive pincers. (Y/N) fumbled for her wand.

"Goodbye, friends of Hagrid," and Aragog descended back into the ground in which he came.

"Can we panic, now?" whimpered Ron.

Harry was the first to move, wildly swinging about the lantern they'd brought from Hagrid's home. Ron drew his wand with trembling hands, pressing his back to (Y/N)'s. Harry joined them when Ron managed, "know any spells?"

"One," answered Harry. "But it's not powerful enough."

"Where's Hermione when you need her?"

(Y/N) stared, wide-eyed, at the wall of spiders in front of her. She knew it was hopeless, but she recalled the pixies in Lockhart's class and the spell Hermione used to stop them. "Immobulus!" she cried.

A few spiders froze where they stood and tripped up their siblings. Just when (Y/N) started to feel brave, more overtook their place, creeping in on them even faster.

She was sure they were done for when a blinding light burned through the darkness. Mr. Weasley's car tore through the trees, knocking spiders this way and that. It screeched to a halt right in front of the trio and threw open its doors. Harry caught (Y/N)'s wrist and tugged her forward. "Let's go!"

Fang hopped into the backseat before anyone else could. The three of them clambered into the car, slammed the door shut, and the car took off without warning. It drove for ten long, bumpy minutes until the trees thinned and the spiders fell behind. Hagrid's hut appeared over the horizon and finally, (Y/N) could relax.

When the car stopped, Harry opened the door. Fang leaped over them and ran back inside with his tail between his legs.

"Follow the spiders! Follow the spiders!" Bellowed Ron, slamming his door shut. "If Hagrid ever gets out of Azkaban, I'll kill him!"

As soon as (Y/N) and Harry were out, the Anglia's engine sputtered and it sped back into the forest without fear. Ron didn't even seem to notice as he continued on, red in the face.

"I mean, what was the point of sending us in there! What have we found out!"

"The monster's much scarier than we thought," mumbled (Y/N). If those gigantic spiders feared it above all else, she couldn't begin to imagine what lurked in the chamber.

"No," said Harry. "Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets! He's innocent!"