SERPENT'S SONG | Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets [2]

𝘅𝘅𝘃 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗰𝗸

Hermione watched Harry as he stared down the Gryffindor table, eyeing all the students. He'd barely touched his sausages.

  'Report it,' she said. He and Ron looked at her. They both knew what she was talking about.

  Harry lowered his eyes. 'No.'

  Hermione, growing more and more frustrated, closed her borrowed copy of Ancient Runes Made Easy. 'Harry, report it. You won't find out who took it otherwise. The teachers can conduct an investigation and--'

  'No, Hermione.' The sharpness in Harry's voice made her fall short. 'If I report it,' he went on in a lowered voice. 'Then I'll have to explain what it does and what we know. And if I do that, then Hagrid's gonna get in trouble, and I bet you most people here have no idea he was even expelled, let alone why.'

  Ron nodded. 'He's got a point.'

  For once, she had no argument.

  As the three were leaving the Great Hall, Hermione was mulling over who the book thief could possibly be, when Harry shouted.

  She and Ron jumped, startled.

  'There! I heard it again!' His face had gone white. 'The voice--! Didn't you--?!'

  Ron shook his head. Hermione, however, clapped her hand to her mouth.

  'Of course!' she cried. 'Harry-- I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library--!'

  Without waiting for either of them to reply, she spun on her heel and sprinted up the marble staircase.

  By the time she'd reached the library she was out of breath. She ignored the glare Madame Pince sent her way and began skimming the shelves. It had to be here somewhere... where had it been that she'd read it...

  Her heart skipped a beat as she landed on the book.

  She pulled it from the shelf, pulse racing a million times a minute, her fingers almost shaking as she skimmed through the pages... where was it, where was it...

  There! That was it!

  Hermione gasped and tore the page from the book; she didn't have much time - if Harry had just heard the voice, then it meant the Heir of Slytherin was on the move.

  Her eyes darted over the page... fatal gaze... spiders flee before it... but how was it getting around?

  Shoving the book back into the slot in the shelf, Hermione seized her quill from her pocket. She scribbled down a singular word, then, the cogs in her brain whirring, she dug around for the small, handheld mirror she kept on her.

  There it was.

  This was it. She needed to get back out onto the grounds. She had to tell Ron.

  Opening the mirror, she held it in front of her, peering over her shoulder. Coast was clear. She turned again, darted down the corridor, reached the corner, held the mirror in front of her--