Finding The Light

The Explanation (edited)

For nearly a quarter of an hour Harry spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about both of us hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that we were hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest.

That Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "So you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword, but then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary - or Ginny or me.

Ginny was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. I didn't look up, i didn't want to see disappointment, or fear, or even worry from anyone, i just wanted my bed.

"What interests me most," said Dumbledore gently, "Is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny and Belle, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

"W- what's that?" said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not . . . Ginny hasn't been . . . has she?"

"It was this diary," I spoke up, "Kid Vol - er Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen . . . ."

Dumbledore took the diary and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"All he needed," I took in a breath, "Was us to write in it, and he had us."

"That's why in Myrtle's bathroom . . . you looked terrified of it but we never asked," Ron said, looking at me.

I gave a small nod to which he and Harry looked insanely guilty - like they blamed themselves.

"Brilliant," Dumbledore said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen."

He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered. Probably at how Dumbledore could describe the lunatic as 'Brilliant'. He obviously noticed as he started to explain for them.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school . . . travelled far and wide . . . sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

I rolled my eyes, of course no one connected the two of them. Young Tom Riddle was a relative hottie, and Voldemort was a bad example of plastic surgery.

If it wasn't for his massive ego and interest in Harry i never would have made the connection either. God, i would never look at Voldemort the same, not after finding his younger self attractive.

"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with - with - him?"

"His d-diary," Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year - i made Belle write in it -"

"Ginny!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything. What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? And how could you get poor Belle involved in it? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic-"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it -"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. And Miss Sparrow. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort."

He strode over to the door and opened it, turning back to the family with a gentle smile that put their worries at almost-ease.

"Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, his eyes twinkling down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" said Ron brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," Dumbledore confirmed, giving the girl a small pat on the shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken. He turned back for me but I shook my head, he hesitated but followed his wife and daughter.

"You know, Minerva," Dumbledore said thoughtfully to McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter, Sparrow and Weasley, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Are you sure you don't want to go, Miss Sparrow, you look-"

"Just get on with it, please," I sighed.

"I seem to remember telling you three that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," said Dumbledore. Ron opened his mouth in horror. "Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on, smiling. "Harry and Ron will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart's valentine flowers and closed his mouth again. Harry and i caught each other's eye and snickered despite the situation.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

"Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "There was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart -"

"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

I burst out laughing, god even his memory-less self knew it. I would have much preferred this Lockhart to the other.

"He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.

"Dear me," said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver moustache quivering as he held back his own laughter. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" said Lockhart dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed at Harry. "He'll lend you one." "

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?" Dumbledore said to Ron. "I'd like a few more words with Harry and Belle."

That really wasn't comforting, and Harry seemed to reciprocate my feelings as he watched Ron leave in terror.

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