Bella and the Chamber (Book Two)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Of course, me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had always known that Hagrid had a weird liking for large and monstrous creatures. Take the dragon for example. During our first year at Hogwarts, he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, (we ended up getting rid of it for him, he's now with Ron's brother), and it would be a long time before we forget the giant, three-headed dog he'd named 'Fluffy'. It still gives me nightmares to this day. If, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, I was sure he'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it. He'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; I could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a lead and collar on it. But I was equally certain that Hagrid never wanted to hurt or kill someone.

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

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

I sighed. "We always knew Hagrid had been expelled..."

"Yeah, and the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his award" Harry said.

Ron being Ron, tried a different approach. 

"Riddle does sound like Percy - who asked him to grass on Hagrid, anyway?"

"The monster had killed someone, Ron," I tell him, rolling my eyes. 

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

"This place is awesome," I sigh. "I could live here forever..."

Harry agreed with me. 

Ron bit his lip, then asked tentatively, "You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?"

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

The four of us 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," Ron said, rolling his eyes and putting a fake smile on his face. "Hello, Hagrid, tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?"

I lean back in my chair. "It's the only way we're going to find out if it is him and what happened that night...we need to do it"

In the end, we decided that we wouldn't say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice that only Harry could hear, everyone but me became more hopeful that we wouldn't need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. I wanted to, I wanted to know the truth, but none of them wanted to so I couldn't. 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 gotten bored of his 'Oh Potter, you rotter' song, Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse Three. This made 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 me and Harry. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the Hospital Wing."

*

We second-years were given something new to think about during the Easter Holidays. The time had come to choose our subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," She told us, as we pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with ticks. 

"I just want to give up Potions," Harry said.

"We can't," I said. Truthfully, Snape had been a lot nicer to me and I have no idea why. "We keep all our old subjects, or I'd ditched Defence Against the Dark Arts"

"But that's very important!" Hermione shrieked, shocked.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," Ron said gloomily. "I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose"

I look at Hermione. "And because of him, we're gonna fail our exams"

"Just give him time," Hermione tells us.

I place my list down and fold my arms. "Time! Hermione, he's had since the school year started to teach us something and he hasn't! The exams will soon be upon us and we're gonna fail because all he cares about is himself"

And with that, I stood up and marched out of the Common Room.

Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than Study of Ancient Runes. Dean Thomas, who, Like Harry, had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.

I wish I could talk to Charlie and Renee about the subjects. But, since we haven't spoken since I left the house in the summer, I decide that's probably not the best idea. So, I have to choose them alone. And there's loads...crap.

I ended up choosing Divination, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures and some others hoping I'll be good at least one of them.

*

Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that I barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match, I went up towards my dormitory with Harry to drop off our broomsticks, feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup had never been better.

But my cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the boys' dormitory, Neville Longbottom was looking frantic. 

"Harry - I don't know who did it. I just found-"

Ignoring that this was the boys' dormitory, I watched as Neville pushed open the door.

The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedsheets had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents all over the mattress.

My mouth fell open as Harry walked over to the bed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. As we put the blankets onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly. 

"Bella, you're not supposed - what happened?"

"No idea," Harry said. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out. 

"Someone's been looking for something," Ron told us. "Is there anything missing?"

Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. I helped wondering who would have done this. 

"Riddles' diary's gone," Harry said in an undertone to me and Ron.

My eyes widened. "What?"

Harry jerked his head towards the dormitory door and me and Ron followed him out. We hurried down to the Gryffindor Common Room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called Ancient Runes Made Easy.

Hermione looked shocked by the news. 

"But- only a Gryffindor could have stolen - nobody else knows our password..."

"Exactly," me and Harry say at the same time.