Hari had known Hagrid for years now. He was gentle and kind and completely non judgemental, one of the strongest and fiercest anti-Voldemort wizards around. Sure, he had a slightly questionable taste in larger and more dangerous creatures like dragons or massive three-headed dogs, but Hagrid was one of the least likely culprits for deliberately setting a murderous creature onto students for their blood status.

Following entering Tom Riddle’s memory and learning about Hagrid’s reason for expulsion, Hari was miserable. Ron, Hermione and Draco kept having him recount everything he saw in the diary, discussing his guilt and the likelihood of him opening the Chamber of Secrets until he eventually retreated to the depths of his blankets, hidden behind his curtains.

Ron, Hermione and Draco were on the other side of the curtains, still repeating the same conversation about whether they should talk to Hagrid about it. Hari was only half listening, head shoved under his pillow and clutching onto his plushie deer as he tried not to listen to their conversation.

“That’d be a joyful visit to Hagrid’s, wouldn’t it?” Ron said, “Knocking on his door asking if he’s been setting something mad and hairy on muggleborns again.”

Hari huffed and burrowed deeper under the covers. He felt movement to his left and turned sideways to find Draco holding open the curtain. Draco arched an eyebrow. Silently, Hari shuffled over to let his friend settle down beside him. He removed his head from under the pillow and glanced up at his friend, still gripping Prongs.

“You still don’t think it was him, do you?” Draco muttered, closing the curtains and shutting out Hermione and Ron’s discussion.

Hari nodded. “You think it was him, then?” he asked, frowning.

Draco sighed, flopping onto the pillow and looking up at the ceiling of Hari’s four poster bed. “I really don’t know. It doesn’t sound like him, but we already knew he was expelled and the attacks stopped after that…”

“I just can’t imagine him doing something like this,” said Hari miserably.

Draco bumped their shoulders together, petting the fluffy fur of Hari’s plush toy. “Me neither, honestly,” he said, shaking his head. “I overheard Professor Sprout saying that the mandrakes should be ready for brewing quite soon. As soon as they start trying to share pots, then they can make the potion to revive everyone.”

Hari hummed. “I suppose there’s that, at least…” He couldn’t help but focus on Hagrid, however. His eyes were starting to burn with the effort of not crying.

“D’you want to go fly our broomsticks for a bit?” Draco suggested, peering at Hari’s bloodshot eyes. “It might take your mind off Hagrid.”

Hari agreed and they clambered out from behind the drapes, and headed out of the dormitory to race each other on the empty Quidditch pitch.

As Hari pushed off into the air, he felt invigorated and far more cheerful instantly. As the cool March air brushed past him, messing up his dark curly hair off his face and he circled the pitch, Hari felt his worries melting away. Draco was darting around the pitch, weaving between the three goal hoops at the opposite end, his laugh carrying all the way over to Hari. Grinning, Hari leaned forward on his broom and shot over to Draco.

“Any idea what subjects you’re choosing for next year?” Draco asked conversationally, doing a barrel roll on his broom.

“Honestly? No idea,” Hari admitted, hovering up and down between two of the hoops. “I think I’ll pick whatever subjects Ron is doing so that I at least have a friend taking them.”

Draco snorted. “Of course that’s your tactic,” he teased, floating closer to punch his shoulder. Hari rolled his eyes, trying to punch Draco back, but the blond only darted away out of reach. “Oops,” Draco said, beaming.

“What subjects are you taking, then?” Hari asked, darting up to catch Draco.

“Arithmancy, definitely. And probably Magical Creatures.”

“Ooh, Arithmancy?” Hari teased, wiggling his brows, “You’re just so smart, Draco.”

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head. A strand of white blond hair fell into his eyes. “Smart enough not to get caught by the likes of you,” he said. Hari saw the mischief in his eyes for a split second before the blond took off in the air. Hari gasped, leaning forwards and chasing after him. Draco roared with laughter, diving and twisting, moving this way and that as Hari tailed after him, breathless.

This carried on for a good few minutes of Hari racing after his friend, both of them shrieking with laughter. Finally, Hari managed to snag Draco’s robe with Seeker’s precision, pulling him back until he almost toppled off his broom. Draco screamed as Hari grabbed him and they both landed on the ground, Hari tackling Draco to the grass with a yelp.

“I hate you,” Draco mumbled as he was held onto the ground by Hari’s knee on his chest.

Hari chuckled, green eyes glowing with mirth. “Mhm. Love you, too, dumbass.”

¤¤¤

A few days later, Hari was coming back from a particularly successful Quidditch practice, feeling more confident in their chances of winning. He made his way up the stairs to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick, his stomach rumbling loudly, looking forward to dinner.

However, standing at the top of the stairs and looking frantic were Draco and Neville.

“Hari, I don’t know who—it was like this when we got here,” said Neville anxiously.

Draco opened the door to the dormitory, exchanging a nervous look with Neville as Hari stepped inside the dormitory. Hari’s area of the circular room was in complete chaos. Everything in his trunk was lying scattered on the floor in heaps and one of his cloaks was torn on the ground. His blankets were pulled off the bed and piled onto the floor while the contents from his bedside drawer were lying on his mattress, a large ink patch staining the fabric from a poorly closed bottle of ink.

“Blimey,” Hari muttered, walking over to his things, jaw dropped. Draco and Neville were helping Hari sort out the mess when Ron, Seamus and Dean entered the room.

“Shit, Hari. What happened here?” Dean asked, eyeing the mess.

Hari shook his head and replied, “No idea. It was like this when we got here.” Ron bent down and lifted Hari’s ripped cloak off the floor, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“It looks like someone was looking for something,” he said, indicating the turned out pockets of his robe. “Do you see anything missing?”

They continued cleaning up the mess, everyone putting things back in drawers and his trunk and Draco repaired Hari’s ripped items with ease. As Hari threw the last Lockhart book into his trunk, he realised what he was missing.

“The diary is missing,” he said in an undertone to Draco and Ron, bent over the ink stain.

“What?”

“Seriously?”

The three boys stepped outside of the dormitory and down the stairs. They found Hermione in the common room, reading a pamphlet about studying Ancient Runes. She looked up from her pamphlet at their appearance, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Once they told Hermione about what happened, she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “What? But how? You’d need a password to get in!” she stage whispered, gaping.

“It could only have been a Gryffindor,” said Ron with certainty.

“Precisely,” said Hari.

¤¤¤

The next morning, Hari woke up early to birds chirping and the sun peeking in between the blinds around his bed. It was the morning of the Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor match and Hari welcomed the good weather as he started getting ready to go downstairs.

“Conditions look perfect,” Wood said at breakfast, walking down the table and inspecting everyone’s plates of breakfast. “Hari, you need to eat so that you’re in top shape.” Hari startled out of his thoughts and began shovelling toast with marmalade in his mouth, still eyeing the table with suspicion. Could he be sitting next to the person that stole Riddle’s diary?

“Careful, Oliver,” said Fred from Hari’s other side. “Don’t go giving Hari another martyr complex like last time.” Oliver huffed, scowling as the rest of the team laughed at Fred’s joke.

Hari was heading up to the dormitory with Ron, Draco and Hermione to get his broomstick and Quidditch gear when he suddenly froze. Ron rammed into the back of him as he stopped, blood running cold as he heard it again:

“Kill this time… let me rip…”

“Hari? What’re you—?”

“The voice!” Hari yelped, looking around frantically. “Can’t you guys hear it?”

Ron and Draco shook their heads, looking alarmed. Hermione, on the other hand, gasped and slapped her forehead.

“Hari! I just realised—I’ve got to go to the library!”

She sprinted off in the direction of the library, leaving Hari, Ron and Draco staring after her, slack jawed.

“What has she just realised?” said Hari incredulously, still peering around nervously for any signs of the monster nearby.

“Dunno. More than I do,” replied Ron, shrugging, “Why’s she going to the library though?”

“It’s what Hermione does,” said Draco. “Whatever you said about the voice must have…” Draco’s eyes widened. Ron and Hari blinked at him. He looked similarly horrified as Hermione, gaping fearfully in the direction Hermione just ran off towards. “I have a horrible feeling about this…”

“You can tell me in a sec,” said Ron, turning to Hari. “Hari, you should hurry and get your broom.”

Hari hurried upstairs and grabbed his broomstick and uniform, sprinting down through the crowd of people heading to the Quidditch stands. He caught sight of Remus in the crowd as he hurried through, waving to him quickly before diving into the locker room with the others.

Hari hastily pulled on his scarlet robes, ignoring Wood’s speech about their tactics and grabbed his broom. He followed the rest of the team onto the field to the roaring crowd, smiling at the already familiar buzz of the cheers surrounding him on all sides. He loved the organised chaos of the crowd in the stands, the mix of yellow and red scattered throughout the stands. Madam Hooch released the balls into the air, the Hufflepuffs huddled nearby in a last minute discussion, Hari’s fellow teammates laughed at something George said. Hari was just about to mount his Nimbus 2000 when he saw Minerva hurrying across the field with a large megaphone, followed closely by a terrified looking Draco.

Hari’s stomach dropped as she lifted the megaphone to her mouth and the crowd naturally silenced. He exchanged confused and worried looks with Draco across the field.

“This match has been cancelled!” Minerva said into the purple megaphone. Wood pushed past Hari and marched over to Minerva, scowling. She said something to him that made him back away instantly and she turned back to the crowd. “Please proceed off the pitch and straight to your common rooms where you will be given further information after this time! Quickly and calmly, please!”

As the crowd began to reluctantly file out of their seats and make their way out of the pitch, Minerva and Draco hurried over to Hari. She put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Hari, you’d better come with me…”

Up close, Hari could see familiar shining tear tracks down Draco’s cheeks. Hari gave him a concerned look, but Draco merely shook his head once. As they moved to leave the pitch, Ron came jogging over to them, looking worried as he neared. “Oh, Weasley, you better come as well,” said Minerva, looking down at the panting Ron.

Hari, Ron and Draco followed Minerva through the crowd of students and teachers heading up to the castle as a swarm. They followed her up the marble steps into the entrance hall and up a flight of stairs, Hari feeling himself getting weighed down by dread. He had a horrible feeling about why Draco had been crying and why Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Surely they didn’t think Hari did something this time…

Instead of going to Minerva’s or even Dumbledore’s office, they turned off towards the hospital wing. Draco clutched Hari’s robe shakily as she pushed open the door and they stepped inside. “This will come as a shock,” said Minerva softly, leading them across the room. Madam Pomfrey leaned over a curly haired Ravenclaw girl, lying stiff on a bed.

However, on the other bed beside her—

“Hermione!” yelped Ron in horror.

Hari gasped and stared down at his friend. Hermione was lying supine on the bed, frozen as a plank of wood, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Her bushy black hair was splayed out around her face like a halo on the pillow, the morning light streaming in through the windows and giving her deep copper brown skin a ghostly shine.

“Draco found them both by the library,” said Minerva sadly. Hari looked at Draco, who was staring wide eyed at Hermione on the bed. Minerva reached over to the bedside table and lifted a small silver hand mirror with floral accents. “Can any of you explain this? This was found next to them.”

Hari, Ron and Draco shook their heads, all too focused on staring at their friend to speak. Minerva looked at them with a sympathetic tilt of her head and a frown.

“I will escort you three to Gryffindor tower. I need to explain the situation to the others as well,” she said. They reluctantly nodded and followed her out of the infirmary, Draco still grasping Hari’s sleeve and Ron dragging his feet.

¤¤¤

“All students must return to their common rooms no later than 6 o’clock or leave at any time after that. Teachers will lead you to each lesson. All Quidditch practices and matches are postponed until further notice, as well as all other evening activities.” Minerva addressed the packed Gryffindor common room, reading off a scroll of parchment. “These precautions are made to ensure your safety as much as we can. I cannot stress the importance that you all follow these rules for yours and others’ safety.”

Silence followed her speech as she rolled up the parchment and slipped it inside her robe pocket. She looked sternly at the students over her spectacles, but Hari caught the nervous glint in her eyes. Her voice wavered slightly as she added, “I can confidently say I have rarely been so distressed as now. It is likely the school may close unless a culprit is found, so please come forward if you have any information.”

She cast a short look in Hari’s direction, eyes apologetic. With a short nod, she climbed out of the portrait hole, leaving the students in the common room.

“So that’s three Gryffindors, including Nick, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff,” said Lee Jordan, George and Fred’s friend, ticking off his fingers. “Anybody else noticing the pattern? Not a single Slytherin has been attacked by Slytherin’s heir. Isn’t it obvious?” This earned scattered agreement among the listening students.

“Is it true you were the one that found them, Draco?” Fred asked. Draco stiffened, nodding robotically. Fred blew out through his lips, shaking his head. “Must’ve been horrid.”

“What’s up with Percy?” Ron asked from beside Hari, hoping to change the subject. He indicated Percy, who was sitting alone in one of the armchairs, looking as if he had been Petrified as well.

George glanced at his older brother and leaned in towards Hari and Ron. He whispered, “That Ravenclaw girl, Penelope Clearwater, was a Prefect. I think he was convinced the monster would never dare attack a Prefect.”

Hari was only half listening. Draco sighed heavily from where he had his head in Hari’s lap on one of the couches, having silently done so as soon as they got to the common room. He hadn’t said a word since Hari saw him before he went to get his broomstick. It was unusual to see him so speechless, his skin paper white with anxiety. Hari was carefully running his hands through the soft, platinum blond hair in hopes of calming him down slightly.

Hari couldn’t get the image of Hermione out of his mind. He had never really stopped to consider the possibility that Hermione might be at risk of getting attacked, but felt he should have realised sooner. She was a Muggleborn, after all. Hari wished desperately to find out who was going around attacking people.

“What’re we going to do?” asked Ron in a low voice. “D’you think they suspect Hagrid?”

“We need to speak with him,” said Hari, “I don’t think it was him this time, but he might know more about it.”

“But McGonagall said—”

“Who cares?” said Draco, sitting up. “We can’t just sit around here doing nothing.” He turned to Hari. “Get your dad’s cloak, Hari.”

¤¤¤

“Hagrid, it’s us!” Hari called, knocking on Hagrid’s front door and pulling the cloak off of them.

The door to the hut swung open to reveal Hagrid, looking morose. “Oh, it’s you three,” he said, letting them inside the hut. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said as Fang jumped up on them, barking excitedly.

Hagrid made himself busy by making tea, avoiding their eyes. He kept looking out his window as if he was waiting for something to happen. “Hagrid, are you okay?” Hari asked, “You heard about Hermione, didn’t you?’

“Oh, I heard about it,” he said gruffly, hands shaking.

There was a knock at the door. Hari threw the cloak of himself and Ron and Draco and they shuffled into a corner. Hagrid checked they were out of sight and opened the door. Dumbledore stepped inside, looking very grave, dressed in sweeping robes of white and silver. A grey haired man entered behind him, dressed in a pinstripe suit, purple boots and a green bowler hat.

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

“Bad business, Hagrid,” said Cornelius Fudge curtly. “No choice but to come. Four attacks now. The Ministry has got to act.”

“I never did it,” said Hagrid slightly desperately, looking at Dumbledore. “Professor Dumbledore knows I didn’t.”

Dumbledore nodded seriously. “I have made it very clear, Cornelius, that I do not believe it was Hagrid.”

“All the same, Dumbledore,” said Fudge fiercely, “The Ministry must take action. Hagrid’s record is against him and people are asking for action from the Ministry. I’ve got no choice but to take Hagrid.”

“Take me where?” said Hagrid, trembling all over. The teapot he had been holding dripped boiling hot water onto the ground in his fear. “Not—not Azkaban?”

Fudge was starting to say something, possibly to reassure Hagrid, when there was another knock on the door. Dumbledore, closest to the door, opened it.

Draco gasped audibly and Hari slapped his hand over Draco’s mouth to silence him. Stepping inside Hagrid’s hut, sneering around the hut scathingly, dressed in expensive black robes that contrasted with his long pale hair and complexion was Lucius Malfoy.

“Ah, you are all here. Very good,” he said approvingly.

Hagrid looked outraged. “What’re you doin’ in my house, Malfoy? You have no right!” he snapped, eyes darting to where Hari, Draco and Ron were hidden.

Lucius Malfoy sneered, eyes venomous. “Dear me. You call this a house?” he said scathingly, eyeing the inside of the small hut, “Believe me. I have no interest in staying long. I am merely here to see Professor Dumbledore.”

“And what did you wish to speak to me about, Lucius?” asked Dumbledore politely.

“Terrible, terrible thing, Albus. But the governors have all agreed that, given these tragic circumstances involving attacked Muggle-borns, it would be best if you were suspended. The governors believe that you have not handled this situation appropriately, as you have failed to stop these attacks—”

Fudged spluttered, dropping his bowler hat on the floor. “But, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can’t stop these attacks, no one can! I hardly think suspending him will do anything to help!”

“Well, seeing as all the governors have signed, unfortunately, Dumbledore has no choice but to leave.”

Hagrid started to protest, but was silenced by Dumbledore, who agreed to leave with Lucius Malfoy. Hagrid was still outraged, Fudge was perplexed and fearful and Hari could feel Draco shaking beside him under the cloak.

“I will go with you, Lucius, but you must understand that as long as those who remain loyal to me are still in this castle, I will never truly be gone. Help will always come to those who ask for it,” said Dumbledore lightly. Hari swore his blue eyes looked in his direction for a split second.

Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy stepped outside of the hut together. Fudge started towards the door as well, putting his hat back on and waiting for Hagrid. Hagrid stood his ground and said, “Let it be known that if anyone wants to find stuff out, they need only follow the spiders! That’ll lead them right.” He stepped outside after the others and Fudge closed the front door behind them, leaving Hari, Ron and Draco alone in the cabin.

Ron pulled off the cloak, ears scarlet with anger. “With Dumbledore gone, there’ll be an attack every day, now! They might as well shut the bloody school tonight!” he croaked, fists shaking at his sides.

“Of course my father would be here to take Dumbledore away,” seethed Draco as they made their way back to the school, hidden under the cloak. “Probably bribed or threatened half the governors into suspending him.”