( 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 )

x. stolen diaries

Matilda stared at Padma Patil standing over her. She was bundled in her covers, stifling a yawn as the annoyed eyes of Padma stared down at her. Annoyed and sleepy. Matilda furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what she could have done to warrant such a look. She couldn't have been talking in her sleep. Matilda knew she didn't do that... she'd even once recorded herself while sleeping over the course of two weeks to make sure that she wasn't sleep-talking, too afraid she might be giving up secrets when her brain was asleep.

"What are you the night stalker?" Matilda's voice was tired and raspy as she pulled her covers tighter and turned away to lay on her side, facing the wall.

"You have a visitor," said Padma, short and annoyed.

The light had barely begun to show through the once-black sky. The moon was still shining. Shiny drops of dew slid down the glass-paned window. The sky had just started turning that white-blue shade it turns as the night sky slowly starts to fade out.

It was early. Barely morning time at all.

"Harry Potter is here to see you," Padma said, rolling her eyes. "And he isn't taking no for an answer..." Matilda grew even more confused, watching Padma turn back around and crawl into her own bed, snuggling deep under the covers. "Trust me, I tried."

Matilda lay there a moment longer. The temptation to close her eyes and snuggle deep into her warm bed was strong. Surely, Harry would take the hint and leave.

But Matilda did none of that. Instead, she threw her covers aside and welcomed the cold morning air with a scowl. Her bare feet padded across the wood floor and to her chest of clothes. Still tired, she picked the first outfit from the top of the messy pile that she found.

She dressed in a deep red, nearly maroon-colored corduroy overall dress that stopped just above her knees. She pulled on a pair of black tights and paired the dress with a multi-colored, striped turtleneck. And before leaving her room, Matilda braided her hair, tying it off with a pink ribbon at the end. It wasn't the best braid she's ever done, but it'd do since she was pulled from sleep hours before she needed to be.

"This better be good, Potter," she said, just as soon as she pulled the wooden door from her Common Room open.

"You were right, Tilly," he turned from where he'd stood staring at the winding staircase to face her. His eyes were wide but the dark circles beneath them told her he'd gotten even less sleep than her.

Matilda shrugged, "No shock there. I'm always right," she folded her arms across her chest, looking at Harry. "But what was I right about?"

"You were right about the diary," he said quickly, and how he had so much energy, Matilda didn't know. "Tom Riddle stored his memories there. I've seen everything, Tilly."

"What did you see, Harry?"

"You're wrong."

Matilda had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. There'd been a rumor that during her first year, the groundskeeper had tried to keep a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a while before people stopped whispering about the giant, three-headed dog he was said to have hidden away. And if, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, Matilda knew that he'd do anything for a mere glimpse of it. He'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and maybe thought it just needed to stretch its legs. But that doesn't mean he was responsible for the killings.

"Riddle might have got the wrong person," said Hermione. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people..."

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

"It's a big castle," Matilda shrugged. "Lots of rooms. Lots of lost hallways and passages."

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

"He was expelled, big whoop," Matilda rolled her eyes. "Doesn't mean he's guilty of the deaths of multiple students..." she looked between Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I mean, the three of you have done plenty that should've resulted in expulsion... doesn't mean that you're innocent."

Ron tried a different tack.

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

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

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

Matilda's eyebrows furrowed, "Does that not give Tom Riddle a motive to lie."

"Was he that kind of person, though?" asked Hermione. "I mean, we've seen his awards. He was a perfect model student."

"You fail to realize the things some people will do to achieve greatness," said Matilda, knowing the need for greatness too well.

She shrugged, "Not to mention, Hagrid would make the easiest target. The big guy who likes all kinds of odd creatures would be the model person to frame should a monster suddenly appear in the castle."

For a moment they were all silent. But Matilda knew none of them was really understanding her.

"You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?" someone asked.

Matilda rolled her eyes.

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

"Are you saying the monster is a giant slug, Harry?"

No one answered Matilda. The four of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.

"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?"

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

And surprising everyone, Ron was right.

"Well, I believe I'm done here," sighed Matilda, standing from the couch while wiping the invisible dust from her lap. "Since no one wants to listen to me, or take anything I say seriously, despite me having been right at every turn, I will no longer be participating in any of this. And I certainly won't be sitting around to hear any more of your completely ridiculous and wrong opinions."

With that Matilda turned away from the golden trio, ignoring their pleas for her to come back, and their promises to listen, and walked out of the Gryffindor Common Room with her shoulders back and a deadpan expression on her face.

She simply did not have the time for people who wouldn't take her seriously.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, you –" Matilda stopped as she regained her footing before nearly falling back into the portrait of the fat lady singing. "Oh, Neville, hello." she coughed, the aggression leaving her voice.

His eyes were wide and he trembled. Matilda heard him gulp before opening his mouth to speak, which took a few moments longer than it should have, "I am terribly sorry, Matilda..." he sputtered nervously, his eyes roaming, trying to look at anything but her. "I'll watch where I'm going better, swear it."

Matilda sighed, having to keep herself from rolling her eyes, "It's fine, Neville," she told him. "Honest."

His mouth shook as he tried to push more words out, but Matilda didn't stand around to wait for him to say anything else. Instead, she gave him a tight-lipped smile and walked around him to begin her journey back to her own common room.

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 seemed to get bored of his "Oh, Potter, you rotter," song. Which he'd sing every time he'd spot Harry. And he'd single as loud as he could. His off-tone voice would echo off the stone walls, threatening to rupture everyone's eardrums.

Then, in March, several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse three. This seemed to make 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 the class. "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 Matilda took very seriously. She'd been writing to her mum and dad for weeks now, asking for their advice and then ignoring it. Matilda already knew what she'd be doing in her third year. She just wanted her parents to feel as if they'd played a part in helping.

"Perhaps I won't take Arithmancy," said Padma as she sneaked a peak at Matilda's written schedule. "I've heard good things about Divinations. Heard it's quite easy."

Matilda scoffed, "Yeah," she said. "Because it's a joke of a class."

Padma's eyebrows furrowed, "But you have it on your schedule – in fact, Matilda you have everything—"

"Stop trying to make your schedule based on what I choose for myself," Matilda quickly slapped a hand over her paper. "You already have to copy all my notes for Potions and Transfiguration..."

"Well, how else am I supposed to know what to do?" she asked, exhausted, and jutting out her bottom lip into a pout.

"Padma, what do you want to do when we're out of school?"

Padma's eyes widened, "What? I don't know!" she said, starting to panic a little. "We'll only be in our third year..."

"Do you at least have an idea?" Matilda asked.

"I like astronomy..." she suggested. Shrugging. "Maybe I'd like to teach it?"

Matilda nodded, she could work with that.

"Okay, sure, sign up for Divinations..." she told Padma who smiled happily. "But you should also take Study of Ancient Runes... believe it or not, many are rumored to have a lot to with astronomy."

Padma nodded quickly. She wrote down everything Matilda suggested and went quickly to turn it in to Professor Flitwick, making sure to thank Matilda before she went.

Not long after Padma had gone, Matilda also went to have Professor Flitwick sign off on her preferred schedule for next year.

She sat behind the short desk, facing Flitwick as he hummed while reading over her proposed list of classes. He stroked the ends of his mustache, eyes scanning the paper. Matilda would watch him pause, open his mouth as if he was going to say something, and then go back to reading.

"Well, the workload will be quite heavy," he finally said, putting her paper down and meeting her gaze from across the desk.

Matilda nodded, "Yes, I know that."

He looked at her, eyes sparkling in delight, "And you'll be able to handle all of this without issue?"

Professor Flitwick knew the answer to this, but he had to ask.

"Yes, of course, Professor," she told him. "Ask any of my other Professors, I am weeks, if not months, ahead of the coursework."

But of course, he already knew that too. She was well ahead of the lesson he was teaching in their Charms class and had already turned in the assignments he'd put on their syllabus for the next two weeks.

"No need," he shook his head. "I will just trust your word."

Professor Flitwick adjusted himself on the stack of books piled high on his seat and reached for one of his many quills scattered about the desk. He took a moment more to look at Matilda then signed off her proposed schedule.

Matilda smiled.

The school was buzzing with talk of the next Quidditch match. It was quickly approaching and Luna could think of nothing else. She'd even begun making signs and banners for other students to hold in support of their house, or whoever they'd be cheering for.

The next Quidditch match would be Gryffindor and Hufflepuff going at it. Many had expected Matilda to show her support for Hufflepuff since her sister was one of their better payers. She hadn't. There would never be an occasion that would have Matilda Winters excited about quidditch.

She'd seen Hermione, Ron, and Harry around. Nearly a month had passed since she'd talked to any of them. They'd tried. Still do. They've all apologized, but it always fell upon deaf ears. Hermione would wave, and Matilda would look away. If they didn't want to listen to her, there was no reason for them to talk, ever.

But she'd become quite bored. She hated to admit that there was a little excitement to be had in getting caught up in Potters' adventures. Now, she was back in the library every evening, pouring over books she's already read. Her evenings were spent watching Luna fuss over her crafts and listening to Padma go on and on about minuscule things that Matilda had no interest in. Sometimes when she'd argue with Cho it'd give her a boost of energy, but it was short-lived, as Cho would always give in too quickly.

One evening, Matilda had just finished in the library and was starting towards the Great Hall, already late for supper. The halls were empty and quiet. However, she could hear the commotion from dinner echoing nearly throughout the entire castle. As she neared it the noises grew. Conversations became louder and she was even to make out a word or two. Though the voices all still jumbled together. It was clear though that Quidditch was the main topic of discussion that evening.

Then she'd been grabbed. A hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, pulling her aside. She went to yell or reach for her wand, but it was too late, she'd already been pulled into a dark corner just a few feet away from the Great Hall. And as she caught sight of her assailants she knew there was no need to go for her wand. They didn't frighten her a bit.

"Are the three of you crazy, or something?" she yelled as Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood across from her, staring.

"Did you take it, Tilly?" asked Ron, gulping loudly.

She looked between the three of them, not having the slightest clue what was going on, "Take what?"

"The diary," said Harry. "Did you take it?"

Matilda almost laughed. What would she need with Tom Riddle's diary? And then it hit her...

"Wait," she said, a sly smile creeping up on her lips. "The diary is missing?"

"Didn't say that!"

"Then why would you ask if I had it, then?" she shrugged innocently.

"Look, you're right, okay?" Hermione stepped up, shoving Ron back with her elbow. "Someone's stolen the diary from Harry's room."

Matilda nodded, she liked hearing that she was right, "And you're sure that it was stolen?" her eyes landed on Harry who had stayed far back against the wall, saying nothing. "It's not just misplaced or overlooked?"

"Someone went into my room," he told her simply. "They were looking for it, I know it."

There was no explanation Matilda could find that explained why she believed as easily as she did. But she did – she believed Harry Potter.

"Ever think to interrogate your fellow housemates then?" asked Matilda as she crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at the three of them again.

Ron scoffed, "Why would another Gryffindor—"

"Because they knew where to find Harry's room," said Hermione, stopping Ron. "It's someone we know. Someone who knows us... well."

She'd caught on slower than Matilda would have thought, but at least she got it. Merlin knows the other two wouldn't have.

A tight-lipped smile formed across Matilda's lips, "Now you've got it."

"What do we do?" Harry asked.

A scoff escaped her and she gave a dramatic shrug, "Well, how on earth would I know?" Matilda sighed, twirling her hair around her finger. "I mean, how could I possibly contribute anything when clearly you three just know everything."

"Told you she'd be like this," Ron huffed.

Hermione slapped at him, hushing him.

"And you were right to think that, Ronald," she stopped, smiling at him – smiling at all of them. "Now, I'm quite hungry, so I'll see myself out."

And she did. Walked past the three of them, still wearing a pleasant smile, and offered not another word. 

Dust floated in the air of the empty room. Untouched condensation coated the large glass windows as a new morning light shone through them. The sun danced along the unmoving bookshelves. It reflected off the chandeliers and sent a cascade of colors across the high ceilings. A calm silence had come upon the room. Pages turned and quills scratched at parchment as homework was being rushed through to finish.

The library was near empty. Matilda sat at one of the long wooden tables alone. A couple of books laid out before her. She looked around the large room. Only three other students were in here with her, and Madam Pince, who stood behind the desk, eyes down and her glasses slipping on her nose.

A faraway roar sounded. Matilda knew it was the echoes of hundreds of students piled outside, awaiting the Q quidditch match that had been scheduled to happen that morning.

Luna had been able to talk about nothing but. Neither had Cho. As they dressed in their scarves and warm coats, they asked Matilda to come with them one last time, to which she declined, again.

Matilda dressed slowly that morning. Finding a puffy-sleeved flower-printed shirt to pair beneath a green corduroy dress. She took her time in pulling on her tube socks and leather mary jane shoes that strapped across her ankle. She splashed cold water over her tired face and once again braided her hair back, this time tying it back with a silk green ribbon. She'd eaten a late breakfast, her table mostly empty as everyone rushed to find the best seats in the stands. And then she found her way to the library where she'd started on the books she'd gotten for Christmas.

She hadn't gotten through much though. Not before she closed the book and collected her things.

"Leaving so early?" asked Madam Pince.

She had barely even glanced at Matilda as she continued stamping down on books and sliding them into the bin beside of her.

Matilda sighed, "Seems like it," she said. "Maybe I'll go for a walk."

Madam Pince pushed out a breathy laugh, "Have a nice day then."

As she started down the long and lonely corridor, away from the library, Matilda was passed. Hermione Granger nearly flew past her. Not evening stopping to acknowledge her, she just ran past. Matilda rolled her eyes, continuing toward her common room, whatever was going on she did not want a part in it. That was until she took just one more step and a loud, piercing scream echoed off the stones and broke through Matilda's eardrums. She covered her ears, turning toward the sound, eyes wide and confused.

Her wand was wrapped tightly in her hand in a moment's time. And her feet had already started carrying her deeper into the shadowy corridors. Nearing where the scream sounded. Her heart pounded in her chest, not with fear – no, with excitement. This would be her moment. She'd save the school and —

"Hermione?"

There was another girl beside her. A Ravenclaw. She was in her fifth year but Matilda didn't stop long enough to look at her face to get a name. Instead, she walked around her and bent down beside a frozen, petrified, Hermione Granger.

Still tight in the grip of her hand, a mirror. Matilda looked down at it, her eyebrows furrowed.

Matilda looked around them. They were alone. The monster – whatever it was, had already vanished. Leaving them to lay here, alone and afraid.

A loud gasp sounded suddenly as Professor McGonagall rounded the same corner Matilda had just minutes before. A hand reached up to cover her open mouth, but her wide, glassy eyes, said it all.

Quickly, Matilda stood up, dropping the hand that held her wand to her side, "I'm sorry – I – I didn't make it on time, Professor."

McGonagall shook her head, reaching up to wrap her arm around Matilda, and pulled her back and away from the petrified bodies.

"Frankly, my dear, I'm quite glad you didn't," she said, her voice cracking and shaky, but still stern. She was still strong.

She held onto Matilda until Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick had joined them in the infirmary, both of them stopping to ask if Matilda was okay. She was fine, obviously. She hadn't been the one lying on the ground, almost lifeless – kept alive only to live in that fear.

"You're sure you didn't see anything?" Dumbledore asked her again, after his initial questioning.

Matilda shook her head, defeated, "No. I didn't."

"And you're going to be okay?" asked Professor Flitwick. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey wouldn't mind taking a look at you."

Matilda shook her head, "Honest, I'm fine. I just wish I'd gotten here sooner," she shrugged. "Maybe I could have helped."

Dumbledore shook his head, "You did enough by just showing up," he told her. "You can go onto your common room now. Professor Flitwick will escort you," she nodded. "But do be careful, Miss Winters."

Just as she'd been about to leave, Harry and Ron came running through the door. Harry still dressed in his Quidditch uniform, carrying his broom.

"Hermione!" they called for her.

Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "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. The same one Matilda had found with Hermione.

Harry and Ron shook their heads, both staring at Hermione.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily to them. "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 student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

Professor Flitwick walked with Matilda back to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Where all the Ravenclaws packed inside, listening to Professor Flitwick in silence. Matilda had found a seat on the couch, beside Luna. She watched as Professor Flitwick read from the rolled parchment in his hands, and said in a choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school could close unless the culprit behind the attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks that they might know anything to come forward."

He turned and walked out of the doorway. The Ravenclaws began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff, " said the Weasley twins' friend 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.

"That's two Gryffindors, that's if we aren't counting the ghost, a Hufflepuff, and now a Penelope," said another one of Daisy Morgensterns older siblings, Asher Morgenstern. One half of a set of twins.

Penelope Clearwater. That's who it was with Hermione in the hallway. She's a Prefect.

"What was Penelope even doing there?" Claire Morgenstern stepped forward to stand beside her older brother.

"Who knows, and who cares?" said Roger Davies, standing behind the crowd, leaning up against the tapestry-draped wall. "That thing messed with one of us this time. We can't just sit back and do nothing."

Matilda rolled her eyes.

"So what do we do then Roger?" smirked Bentley Morgenstern, the other half of the set of Morgenstern twins. He sat across from Matilda but his neck was bent as he looked up at his siblings.

Roger stood up straight, shoulder back. He puffed out his chest as he struggled to find an answer because he didn't know what they could do.

"We could catch it – we could find the monster and then stun it..." offered Claire.

Matilda shook her head, "You don't even know what to look for," she sighed, falling back into the velvet couch, everyone now looking at her.

"It's a monster," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I think we'd know it when we see it."

"Stupid plan," said Matilda. "What happens when you see some big, scary creature in the Forbidden Forest? We know that they're there. Is that the monster?" she asked and Claire huffed, looking away. "Or what about those underwater creatures dwelling at the bottom of the lake, I'm sure they don't have the friendliest looks to them. Would one of them be the monsters Claire?"

With wide eyes, Claire looked down to where her brother Bentley sat, having watched the entire interaction, "Don't look at me," he shrugged. "I agree with her. None of us know what we're doing."

It was well past curfew. The corridors were dark and empty. Not even the ghosts were rushing through them tonight. It would make the perfect hunting grounds. She was alone. No one would find her until morning. And yet, she had a hard time being afraid.

Instead, she was annoyed. Matilda knew she shouldn't be walking the halls this late into the night. She was going against the rules that Professor Flitwick had stressed that they all follow. But she couldn't be in that room anymore. Not with all the counterfeit heroes. And not even in her room where she was pestered with questions by her roommates and Luna's constant need to try and comfort her when she didn't need to be comforted for anything. She was fine. She was here. And she was fine.

She heard the whispering when she found herself standing in the Entrance Hall. Looking up at the grand doorway that would take her into the Great Hall. Closed now. She heard the faint whispers of familiar voices and she knew now she wasn't alone in this nighttime adventure she'd found herself taking.

Matilda turned, "What are the two of you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same–"

"We're going to see Hagrid," Harry admitted, his voice cutting off the defensive tone that Ron had shot at her.

She looked at the blanket Harry was carrying in his arms. Balled up and wrinkled. It didn't look like something she'd trust to keep her warm during the early days of March. And that's because it wasn't a blanket at all. No. She finally put the pieces together. Her eyes opened wide and she nearly ripped it from his hands to admire the piece of magical fabric, having never had one before. But she stopped herself. She couldn't.

"Going to accuse him of hurting Hermione then?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "The two of you have great fun with that."

"No, it isn't like that, we just – we just want to talk to him. He could know something," said Harry, rushing still to get his words out. "And we want you to come with us."

Matilda nodded, "Oh, so now you want my help..." she smiled, shaking her head. "No."

"What? Why?" asked Ron, whining.

"Because, despite me being the brightest person in our year, you lot never listen to me," she told them, crossing her arms over her chest. "And besides, there's a curfew."

Ron's eyebrows furrowed, "But you're out."

"I'm sure there's a difference between wandering the halls at night and then sneaking off the grounds," said Matilda.

Ron still seemed confused, "But Tilly," he said. "The monster is inside the castle."

Matilda huffed, stomping her foot. Dammit. He was right. And she too wanted to hear what Hagrid knew – if he knew anything. She still didn't believe he was the one who set the monster loose.

"There's no way we're all fitting under that thing," she told them.

Except there was a way. And it involved being squished between Harry and Ron. Her personal bubble popped. And she hated every second of it.

It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit 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 barked loudly behind him.

"Expecting someone?" Matilda looked directly at the arrow aiming for her.

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

"What's that for?" said Harry, 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?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Thought that much was obvious," whispered Matilda, still unliking to the fact that just moments ago she was staring down a sharpened arrow.

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.

He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them both large mugs of boiling water that Matilda noticed he'd forgotten to add tea bags too 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 Matilda 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 a second, very odd looking man.

The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime green bowler.

"Cornelius Fudge."

Matilda knew him. He was her dad's boss. And he also happened to have the job that Matilda wanted.

The Minister of Magic.

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

"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge 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," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir—"

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

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

Matilda knew what Fudge was saying. The Ministry needed someone to blame. He needed someone to blame.

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

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, 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?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, 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?" croaked Hagrid.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

Dumbledore answered it. It was Harry who 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. Matilda's hands had curled into fists at her side.

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

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid 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?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

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

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy 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."

Not a loss at all to him. It would be preferred if all the muggle-borns were rid of the school. If he had it his way. Blood Purists. Matilda hated the lot of them. Might be a bit hypocritical, but she thought the world would be better without them in it.

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, 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," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks—"

Matilda wanted to scoff. As if he would do any better. She still wouldn't be surprised if they found out that somehow he was behind the attacks. Or helping to facilitate them.

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them," said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"

Me. Matilda thought and wanted to say.

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

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

"And how many did yeh have ter 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," said Mr. Malfoy. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid, making Fang the boarhound cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy.

"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside—"

"But—" stuttered Fudge.

"No!" growled Hagrid.

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

"However," said Dumbledore, 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, Matilda was almost sure Dumbledore's eyes flickered towards the corner where they stood hidden.

"Admirable sentiments," said Malfoy, 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, took a deep breath and said carefully, "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.

Hagrid was talking to them. Telling them how they could help.

"All right, I'm comin'," said Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, "An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away." The door banged shut and Ron took the invisibility cloak off them.

"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."

Matilda stood still. Staring at the door. Her hands are still fists at her side and her face is a scowl. She was shaking. If she ever got the chance, she'd kill him. Matilda knew she'd kill Lucius Malfoy one of these days. And she wouldn't even blink while doing it. She may even enjoy it.

"Tilly?" asked Harry.

She turned, "We've gotta find those spiders."

Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door.

ϟ

( 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 )

( described outfits )

ϟ

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆

This chapter has been edited. You can tell if a chapter has been edited by looking at the title font (it'll look like this one) or at the end of every chapter, it'll have a stamp of the date it's been edited.

&

As always, I ask that you leave comments on how you liked this chapter here. Comment all of your thoughts and theories here. Let me know your opinions on characters and views on characterization. Are we hating or liking Matilda? Any ideas on her role yet? I'm excited to read about all of your thoughts.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝟖/𝟭𝟲/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑