Dolonia

Chapter 11

        The diary had show Harry the events that had fifty years ago when the Chamber of Secrets was opened. It had been Hagrid who opened it. We had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. During our first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before we forgot the giant, three-headed dog he'd christened 'Fluffy.' And if, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, Harry 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 leash and collar on it. But we were equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.

        Again and again me, Ron and Hermione made Harry recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long, circular conversations that followed.

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

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

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

        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," Hermione said.

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

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

        "He was buying a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," Harry said 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," I said. "'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'"

        In the end, we decided that we would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, we became hopeful that we would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. 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.

        "The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," Professor Sprout told us in Herbology one day. "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 our 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 Harry and Ron as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

        I was happy to choose our subjects. I wanted to choose Arithmancy and Divination.