Mysterious Girl (Harry Potter Fan Fiction)

Detective Work

 “Rubeus Hagrid was accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.” I stated, staring down Dumledory’s X-ray like blue eyes. I currently stood in the middle of his office while he sat behind his desk doing whatever he does as Headmaster to make this place awesome. I’d ended up giving up on finding his office… ‘Manually’ shall we say and settled for just apparating here; I recognized the room instantly as the one from the Riddle boy’s memory although a few things had changed; like the guy who used to be sat where Dumbledory is had turned into a moving picture behind him.

“Robyn,” Replied Dumbledory as polite as ever, but his expression was full of pure bemusement and there was an underlying question in the greeting. At my narrowed eyes and expectant question, Dumbledory subtly sighed. “Yes, he was.”

“He still works here…” Again another statement, I was just assuming based off Harry and his friend Ron’s reaction.

“Yes, he’s the groundskeeper here at Hogwarts.”

“Did you believe the accusation?” The question flew out my mouth before I could stop it; it was pure conjecture on my part to think Dumbledory had been here for fifty years, and yet the strange assurance of my statements felt infallible. The Jesus Man will know. Dumbledory regarded me for a long time, within which I felt the barriers of my mind shudder against an intruder; my eyes narrowed accusingly.

“No, I did not and still do not believe Rubeus Hagrid to be responsible for ever opening the Chamber of Secrets.”

“And Tom Riddle?” I asked, just to gauge what kind of reaction he might have to the snake-like boy.

In response, the Jesus man tilted his head forward, regarding me over his half-moon spectacles as if he could see into my soul. My discomfort levels rose but I was determined to see my detective work through to the end. I will not be a coward! “He was a student here.” A guardedness had appeared in Dumbledory’s voice, despite burying it under politeness. He thought it was Riddle. I concluded, deciding that was the best answer I would get from the all knowing one.

“Ok, thanks Dumbledory.” I grinned, focusing on apparating out of his office before he could questiom the origin of my information.

* * * *

From that point on nothing significant happened; Professor M said she was increasing impressed and satisfied with my process through the school work she gave me, apparently I was now working to the same level as the current second years. She even asked me what subjects I would take as a third year! I didn’t let myself think anything special about that though, I didn’t want to get my hopes up; I merely thought of it as Professor M informing me of what I would have to research if I wanted to continue my Wizarding education after I left Hogwarts, which I most certainly planned to so I appreciated the information.

The Easter holidays were really fun; especially my pranks on Juice Face boy and the twins. I very nearly peed myself laughing, watching the two giant phantom chickens I’d created chase the twins through the hallways of Hogwarts, and I could still feel my six pack from putting a hex on Juice Face boy to lay eggs for the whole day; the excuses he had to come up with for why eggs kept rolling out his trousers and why he had to suddenly run to the bathroom, if he sat on one, were absolutely hilarious. Prank Queen coming through everybody!

Dumbledory had informed me of another up and coming Quidditch match between Harry’s team Gryffindor and Hufflepuff; the game itself fascinated me, I would’ve love to have a go actually playing Quidditch but more than likely I would get hit in the face with a bludger or fall off my broom if I tried... it wasn’t like I’d ever be really able to have go anyway. A girl can dream… not of falling off a broom obviously but of having a go at Quidditch…then again that might be the same thing… Wow, I’m such a idiot! On the morning of the match, I woke up to the sickest churning in my stomach, shivering under a burning temperature as I lay in bed, an icy sweat blanketing my forehead. Professor M’s touching concern at my lack of facial colour made me smile; at her insistence, Madame Pomfrey saw me before the game was due to start and that was when I heard it again.