The Three Brothers: The Cure

A Riddle to Solve

AN: The text in bold has been borrowed from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling

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14th November 1992

"— and then we came here to tell you, sir," Mark finished.

A brief silence followed; the only sound that could be heard was from a peculiar looking brass instrument ticking away on Professor Dumbledore's desk. Ginny's gaze was still fixed on her shoes, occasionally wandering to the small cracks on the old stone floor. Mark's retelling of the events in the chamber had refreshed her memory of all the events that she desperately wished to bury away, but the gnawing in her chest refused to leave her alone.

In a way, Ginny was grateful that Mark was here today. Sitting here, in the Headmaster's office, she wasn't sure if she would have managed to tell Professor Dumbledore anything. But Mark seemed to have no problem. He had recounted everything with a clinical detachment, not embellishing any descriptions, downplaying the emotions involved—and his own part in killing the basilisk. The way he spoke, it was as if it was some mundane report; the kind her Dad often wrote for his work with the Ministry.

Ginny knew that she would've broken down trying to tell everything. Perhaps even chickened out of the meeting. If she was being honest, the urge to just get up and run out the door hadn't completely disappeared yet. Yet, she wasn't sure if she could; there was something holding her here, immobilizing her in this large, plush chair.

She was jerked back from her thoughts when Mark gave her a nudge. She looked up and her eyes briefly met Professor Dumbledore's.

"Ms Weasley," he said, his face sad and tired—probably full of disappointment in her.

"Sorry, sir," she replied immediately, her gaze back at the floor.

"How are you, Ms Weasley?"

"I'm — I'm okay, sir," Ginny replied, swallowing the small lump in her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark's grip on the armrest of his chair tighten.

"Ms Weasley, please do not fret," said Professor Dumbledore, "This ordeal must have been horrible for you. It is alright to be not okay."

Ginny found another lump in her throat already. She gulped it down as she nodded in reply. Steeling herself, she clutched her chair and looked into Professor Dumbledore's eyes.

"What will it be sir?" The sympathetic expression on the Headmaster's face muddled into one of confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My punishment. What will my punishment be, sir? I won't be expelled for this will I?"

Of all the reactions she had possibly thought of, she had never imagined something like this. Though it was only for a moment, Ginny was sure she would have the image burned into her mind for as long as she would live. Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald and the greatest wizard in the world, looking utterly defeated.

"Ms Weasley," said Dumbledore after a long moment. "Ginny," he added, even gentler than before. "It is I who is responsible for this. As the Headmaster, it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of the students. And I failed to protect you."

Trying to cheer her up, he further added, "Besides, I don't think Mr Smith will let me off my promise that easily."

"But —" Ginny found herself retorting despite herself. "I—I wrote in that diary, sir. I risked the safety of —"

Professor Dumbledore straightened up in his chair, his posture back to its usual wisdom and authority.

"Ms Weasley, Tom Riddle has managed to fool many a wizard in his lifetime. You were not the first," he took a pause, "and I'm afraid you won't be the last. If I'm not mistaken, he must have put a series of complicated charms on the Diary." He looked directly into her eyes, the twinkling of his eyes resembling a piercing beacon, "Charms which would create a compulsion on the user to write in the Diary." Leaning back into his tall chair, he continued.