Can A Phoenix Love A Lion? (Hermione Granger x Male Reader)

18. A Frozen Hand

The next day, Y/N still thought about the diary. He tried to focus on something else, but a small voice stayed firmly in the background of his mind, whispering about what could have happened to T. M. Riddle.

He couldn't talk about it with Hermione, Harry, or Ron, because he had a complicated time sleeping and arrived late at breakfast. When he got to Transfiguration, he found for the first time the class dull. Usually, it passed too rapidly for his liking. Now, time seemed slimy as the diary occupied all the place he had in his brain.

When he finally left the classroom, he ran along the corridors where an icy wind blew. Just when they got in the park, Y/N caught up with Hermione, Harry, and Ron. They were in the middle of a discussion.

"...opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago," Harry was saying.

"Who opened the Chamber?" Y/N asked, breathless.

They all leapt in surprise.

"Ah, Y/N, it's you," Hermione said, relieved. "Harry's telling us that, apparently, it's Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secrets the last time."

"Hagrid?" Y/N was dumbfounded. He clearly hadn't expected that. "But—it can't be him. It just—can't be. He's our friend."

"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding frantically. "We don't even know who this Riddle is. If you want my opinion, it is odd."

Ron tried a different tack. "Riddle does sound like Percy—who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?"

"The monster had killed somebody, Ron," Harry said. "What would you have done?"

"Look, Harry," Y/N said. "I don't understand everything, but Hagrid wouldn't hurt a fly. He's nice to everyone."

"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?" Hermione said, her voice all hesitant.

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

Suddenly, just behind them, a voice said, "Mad and 'airy?"

They all jumped back. It was Hagrid. What had he heard of their conversation?

"You wouldn' be talkin' about me now, would yeh?"

"No!" the four of them said at once.

Hagrid seemed relieved and smiled a little. Then, there was an awkward silence. Y/N looked at a bird passing by, Hermione at her feet. Harry cleaned his eyeglasses, and Ron just stared in the distance.

"Uh...What's that you've got, Hagrid?" Harry finally asked.

"Oh, it's er...Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," Hagrid said, lifting up a green metal box. "For the Mandrakes, yeh know? Now, according to Professor Sprout, they've still got o' grown up to do. But, once their acne's cleared up, we'll be able to chop 'em up and stew 'em, and then we'll get those people down at the hospital unpetrified."

Y/N frowned. So Mandrakes could have acne? He would have to do some research about that.

"In the meantime, though," Hagrid said, lower, "you four'd best lookin' after yourselves. Alright?"

The four of them nodded.

Hagrid did a small "Hmm", then turned back and walked away. Just as he arrived near the castle walls, he said, "Hello, Neville!"

Y/N looked above Ron's shoulder. Neville was running toward them breathlessly.

He stopped just in front of Harry, trying to catch up his breath. "Harry—I don't know who did it—but you'd better come! Come on!"