A FanFiction by Arabella

Based on "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets"

by J.K. Rowling

Disclaimer: Not even a little bit mine. Except for Gwen – who actually belongs to herself.

Thanks to Anne for asking to archive this fic, Zsenya, for making me put it up for all eyes, And to Honeychurch, for helping

me to know Gwen better.

Hello, Guinevere! Have you been having a nice vacation at Miss Vauclain’s?

Soon there will be more stories, I promise you. School can’t start quickly enough for me! I’ve had a very nice rest, I suppose, but enough already. I ran into some people from my old school the other day, Gwen. Susie Raviski- you know- the mean one who used to tease me?

Yes. Well I saw her in the park with her whole gang. I was walking down to the bridge, on my way home, when she sort of came out of nowhere with her friends and said, "Where’ve you been all year, Mangy Granger?" Everybody laughed, but for once my feelings weren’t hurt at all. I had my wand in my pocket.

Just listen. Very calmly, I said, "I’ve been at Hogwarts." Susie didn’t know what that meant, of course. She burst into giggles and said, "Hogwarts! What’s that, where they send all the pigs?" Which set everybody off laughing again, snorting like swine. She held up her hand for them to stop and said, "Anyhow, I heard you’re a witch, some funny witch, and your whole family’s in some kind of cult. My mum’s always said your mum’s a strange one- too nervous."

I had hold of my wand very, very tight, and my mind was screaming all kinds of curses- I could just see Susie growing mushrooms in her ears, or having her nose fall off, or blistering with a body full of boils. But I made myself picture Professor McGonagall, that time when she gave me detention, and I knew I wanted to avoid that at all costs. So I said nothing.

"Cat got your tongue, Granger?" said Susie, "Or did you have to sacrifice it to your cult?"

"Yeah, let’s see your tongue, Granger."

"Open wide and show us those big teeth."

"Come on, Mangy, tell us about your freaky family!"

Aren’t they, though.

What, and let that crew get me expelled? Never. I just.... scared them a bit. I took out my wand and pointed it right at Susie’s face. Suddenly, the laughter stopped.

"What’s that?" she said, trying to sound indifferent. But I knew she must be remembering her teeth. "A twig you picked up? Oh, I’m scared."

"Yeah, it’s a twig," I said. "Just a bit of twig, really." And then I did my wrist-flick. Sparks shot out the tip of my wand, and they all jumped back a step.

Oh, sparks aren’t anything. Every time I practice my wrist-flick, I get sparks. It shows that a wand’s in good working order- that’s what Mr. Ollivander at the wand shop told me.

Anyway, I shot a few sparks and they jumped. Susie paled, and I had to laugh a little.

"What do you have," said one of her friends, "a sparkler?" Susie looked a bit relieved at that. "Oh, that’s really thick, Hermione, trying to bother us with a stupid sparkler."

"D’you see any matches?" I said. "How am I lighting the sparkler, Susie?" She didn’t have an answer. All of them were backing away, step by slow step. "Better run if you like your teeth the way they are," I said, and flicked my wrist hard. A burst of bright sparks flew up, and they positively bolted! I just stood there laughing—imagine any student at Hogwarts running away from a bunch of little sparks!

I’m glad you got them- but Hermione, now won’t they really think you’re a witch?

Who cares? Nobody would ever believe them. And it was worth it... oh, wasn’t it worth it! I wish Harry and Ron could’ve seen it! Harry and Ron.

As if I know. I’ve written them twice each. Harry didn’t write back at all, and I’m rather worried about him as he’s living with those dreadful people. I got one letter back from Ron, and I know about as much about him as I did before. Want me to copy it?

"Dear Hermione,

Got your letter. You sound busy. What, are you studying? You better not be. I’ve been playing Quidditch and doing chores and stuff. Did you get a letter from Harry yet, because I didn’t. Hope those gits aren’t torturing him. Ginny’s worried- she’s going on about it right now- I think she fancies him. What an idiot.

Everybody here says hello.

Bye,

Ron"

Well really. Doesn’t he have anything to say?

I just wrote back and told him not to bother Ginny- she can fancy whomever she likes and it’s none of his business. I hope he’s not teasing her. Ginny’s going to be a first year, and I don’t really know her yet, but I probably will. Every other Weasley has been in Gryffindor. Oh, Gryffindor! How will I ever make it all the way to September?

At least Ron sent a Chocolate Frog with that short note of a letter. I told him last time I wrote that my parents won’t let me have any sugar because they’re dentists, so I haven’t had a single sweet all summer. I guess he thinks that’s bad. I think I’m going to go eat it.

‘Bye!

July 23

Just got an owl back from Ron. Can you believe this:

"Dear Hermione,

Right, that’s it. Still no letter from Harry and so Fred and George are going to help me bust him out. I’d tell you how we’re going to do it, but you’d just have a fit. Don’t worry. I’ll write you when I’ve got him.

See you,

Ron"

And here is the letter I am sending back:

"Dear Ron (and Harry, if you’re there)

I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn’t do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I’ve been really worried, and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off.

I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course, and we’re going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don’t we meet in Diagon Alley?

Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can.

Love from,

Hermione."

Oh, I hope they’ll write me soon. I hope Harry’s okay! I hope they can come to Diagon Alley. We got our book list from school, and there are several Defense Against the Dark Arts ones. I hope that means that it will be a real class this time because we’ve got an entire year to make up for. All the books are written by Gilderoy Lockhart, whom I’ve never heard of, but he must be really amazing if he knows so much about the Dark Arts.

I got something else from school, too, Gwen. It’s a Certificate of Special Achievement, for my marks last year! Professor McGonagall sent a note along with it saying she’s sorry I didn’t get it earlier, but it had to be signed at the Ministry of Magic—by the head of the Department of Witching and Wizarding Education, and the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge! Mum and Dad had it framed. They are really the best!

Thanks. It’s something to live up to though, isn’t it! I can’t wait to get my schoolbooks and start studying. I really need to prepare!

I can do that?

Really? Do I need my password?

Of course! That’s so fascinating! Oh, so many reasons to be excited- my books, Diagon Alley, visiting you, and I hope seeing Harry and Ron! I’ll bet time goes really, really slowly until next Wednesday. It always does when I have anything fun to anticipate.

Oh, there’s Mum calling. It’s lunch. See you!

July 26

Harry’s okay, and they’re all going to meet me in Diagon Alley. Here’s how I know:

"Dear Hermione,

See, I knew you’d throw a fit and you don’t even know what we’ve done. And you’re not going to know either. We’ve got Harry, so quit harping. Quit studying too- how can you be- we’re on vacation! Seriously.

Mum says we can all go to Diagon Alley on Wednesday. How about we meet at Gringotts, since we all have to go there first anyway?

See you there,

Ron"

"Dear Hermione,

Sorry I couldn’t send you any letters. My uncle wouldn’t let me let Hedwig out of her cage all summer. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get any of your letters either, because a house-elf named Dobby was stopping my mail. It was a bad summer, and I’m really glad to be staying at Ron’s now, because it’s much better than my house. Hope your summer was great.

See you next week,

Harry"

A house-elf named Dobby was stopping his mail. You know, Gwen, that sort of thing just doesn’t surprise me anymore. After a year at Hogwarts, the fact that there’s something called a house-elf, and it goes ‘round stopping people’s mail, just sounds like a perfectly normal part of life.

In any case, I’m glad Harry’s with Ron, although I don’t like the sound of whatever they did to get him out. And the way Ron talks about studying, you’d think it’s some kind of ancient torture. I’m sure the only reason those two are even excited to go to Diagon Alley is to get ice cream at Fortescue’s.

That’s not what I—oh, never mind, Gwen. I’ll see you at Miss Vauclain’s on Wednesday, okay? I’ll pop in before we go over to Gringotts.

Hello, it’s Hermione Granger. Is Gwen in there, please?

Er- yes. Are you a diary?

Could you find her?

Thanks!

Did I hear someone say Hermione?

Yes, I’m Hermione.

Hanini! How good you are. You must know how we die for Quidditch- Guinevere has told you?

She certainly has. More than once.

Well, if she’s bad, I’m worse. You will keep us informed of the Quidditch this term, won’t you?

I promise.

You are a peach, hanini, do you know that?

Gwen! Who was that? What’s a ‘hanini’?

That’s so nice! How interesting to meet all your friends, Gwen. They all seem to know me.

Oh, good.

Sweet girl! How wonderful to finally meet you after all the raving I’ve heard from Guinevere. She speaks so highly of you- I hear that you’re top of your class?

Oh, it’s nothing. Yes, I am.

And you’re here to get your schoolbooks, I imagine? How lovely to be going to school!

I agree! I just can’t wait to go over and get all my new school things- there’s nothing I like better than all new notebooks and quills and books and folders—

Well! I’m Hermione Granger, if that’s what you mean.

Um...... okay.

What?

I will! Goodbye, Gwen--- Goodbye, everyone!

August 1

Sorry I didn’t write right away, Gwen, but ever since we got my books, I’ve been-

Yes, well there’s so much to read- we’ve got seven Defense Against the Dark Arts books, and they’re all written by Gilderoy Lockhart, and we even met him at Flourish and Blotts, and he’s going to be our teacher at Hogwarts, and Gwen, he looks like he should be a film star, I mean, honestly, I’ve never seen anybody up close who looked like that, and I’m going to be looking at him all year long, so how will I ever stand it!? I have to memorize every word of his books.

I know, it’s hard, but I think I can do it for Professor Lockhart.

They’re fine. Look, in "Gadding with Ghouls" Professor Lockhart says he managed to rid a haunted castle of a poltergeist that had been plaguing it for over a thousand years! It’s about time we had a real Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—I bet he’ll get rid of Peeves if we tell him to—d’you suppose I ought to wear my lavender sweater on the first day of his class? In "A Year with the Yeti" he says his favorite color is lilac, but I haven’t got anything really lilac.

No, not entirely, it fastens in front but nips open at the top and then parts under the clasp.

Yes, I think I will. We haven’t gone shopping for my school clothes yet, except my robes of course, so maybe Mum will let me get something lilac. I got some purple ink and a new quill for that class already. I’d wish it were September, but I need every minute left in this vacation to commit these textbooks to memory.

Oh. Well, there’s second year level of everything I was taking before, plus an extra class in place of Flying, which you don’t have to take after first year. My new class is called Elementary Spellish, which is the study of Wizarding terminology, you know, Latin derivatives and magical dialects and witching slang. Isn’t that fascinating? It’s only twice a week—Professor McGonagall wants me to ease in to extra work, to make sure I can really handle it before I try to add any more. I’m sure I’ll be fine—my marks last year are proof of that!

I have to tell you, Gwen, it was so nice to be in the wizarding world again. I feel like I’m starving for magic. Diagon Alley was just wonderful, and getting to say hello to you at your headquarters was such a treat. How are all your friends?

They’re just fine. We all enjoyed it, too. But aren’t you going to tell me about your friends, Hermione dear?

Yes, but I have to do it later. I already feel really guilty about writing for this long when I haven’t even touched "Break With A Banshee" and I’ve only barely skimmed "Travels With Trolls". Lockhart is clearly serious about our education, and I mean to rise to the occasion. Talk to you soon.

August 12

Well, I’ve done it. I’ve read them all. My head feels heavy. Gwen—Gilderoy Lockhart has done so much. Why on earth is he stopping such an unbelievable career to come teach us at Hogwarts?

So many people will suffer without his help. But I am glad he’ll be helping us, instead. Is that awful?

I still haven’t told you about Diagon Alley, have I? Now that I’ve finished all Lockhart’s books, all I can think about is how nice it was to see everyone again. I didn’t realize how much it would feel like a family reunion, what with Harry and Ron and Percy, Fred and George, my parents, Ron’s parents, his little sister Ginny, and even Hagrid! We were all in a bunch on the top of the steps at Gringotts, finally back together, and I just wanted to smile ‘til my head fell off.

Ron’s dad was really fascinated with my Muggle mum and dad, and he towed them off to buy them a drink so he could quiz them about what our life is like. They’re still talking about it. That was their first chance to really sit down and talk with an adult from the wizarding world, and they thought Mr. Weasley was just as fascinating as he thought they were.

Harry bought Ron and me ice creams at Fortescue’s, and then we window shopped for all the things we want to buy when we’re rich. Ron wants a racing broom, newest model, Nimbus 2001. Harry wants exactly the same thing. They’re so original. I saw a set of scales I’d die for- it’s called a Prioritizer. You write two tasks on slips of paper and place them in the scales, and it tells you which is truly the most important to do first. I need that thing. It would really help me to schedule properly during exams. But it was far too expensive to even think about.

After that, we met up with my parents and all the Weasleys at Flourish and Blotts to get our books—which is where we met Professor Lockhart. I’ve never seen robes like his, they were so blue, and they matched his eyes exactly, and he has blond, wavy hair, and the most perfect teeth I have ever seen. I wish I had teeth like that. He’s won Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award five times! He was doing a book signing, and when he saw Harry, he grabbed him up to the front and presented him with a complimentary stack of all the textbooks! The news people were all taking pictures- I mean, Gilderoy Lockhart and Harry Potter, that’s a double celebrity. Harry didn’t look too pleased- I saw him dump all his books over in Ginny Weasley’s cauldron. (Really, Gwen, I thought it was really sweet of Professor Lockhart to give Harry all those books. But I guess it was also nice of Harry to give the books to Ginny, since Mrs. Weasley has to buy five sets.)

That’s when everything started to go downhill, though, because Malfoy came over to us. If there is one thing I didn’t miss about the magical world, it’s Malfoy. He hasn’t made any improvements over the summer. If anything, he’s worse. Started taunting Harry right off about all the press attention he’d gotten with Professor Lockhart, gibing at him with "Famous Harry Potter" and all that.

Ginny Weasley jumped right to Harry’s defense—Ron and I would have done it, but we were fighting our way over to him through the crowd. I watched her, and she looked livid, which was interesting considering she didn’t say one word or draw one speck of attention toward herself the whole day. But she had no trouble standing up to Malfoy! "Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that," she said. I was impressed. Malfoy was not. "Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend," he said, as if a girlfriend were the most absolutely revolting thing he could think of. Ha. He should be so lucky. I noticed that Ginny turned really red when he said it, though, so I think Ron might be right—she does like Harry. It’s her business, of course, but I definitely hope she’s in Gryffindor so I can find a way to ask her. Anybody who can’t stand Malfoy is all right by me.

Malfoy. He said to Ron, "Surprised to see you in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." Harry and I both had to grab Ron by the back of the jacket to hold him off, because Mr. Weasley was coming over with my parents, and I didn’t need them to see us fighting! If they hadn’t been coming over, though, I might have let Ron at him. Malfoy deserves.... but I don’t approve of violence. Anyway, my parents got an eye full of fighting a moment later.

Mr. Malfoy came up to us. He’s just as nasty as his son, and treats Mr. Weasley in the same way that Draco treats Ron. He was getting down on him for being poor, and grabbed up one of the second-hand books Mr. Weasley was buying for Ginny and started to make fun of it. Beastly.

Then Mr. Malfoy looked over at my parents, and at me, and I mean, he looked at us like we were just the filthiest trash you’ve ever seen. Nobody’s ever looked at me like that, not even Susie—not even Snape. He sneered and said, "The company you keep, Weasley.... and I thought your family could sink no lower"—which is when Mr. Weasley knocked him into a bookshelf. They brawled so hard I thought they’d destroy the store- our whole section was demolished- Mrs. Weasley was hollering at her husband to stop it- Ron and all the boys were cheering him on- my parents looked petrified- and THANKFULLY Hagrid came in and pulled them off one another. It all ended with Mr. Malfoy tossing Ginny’s book back in her cauldron and saying, "It’s the best your father can give you."

Ron says Mr. Malfoy hates his dad because Mr. Weasley is the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, and so he’s always after Mr. Malfoy for having illegally enchanted possessions. Malfoy thinks since he’s rich, he should be allowed to have whatever he likes, and he resents Mr. Weasley for trying to tell him otherwise.

But I wonder why Mr. Malfoy has such an obvious grudge against me and my family? We’ve got nothing to do with him. I suppose he’s just all-around horrible—no wonder his son is such an idiot. Honestly, two grown men fighting in a shop—not that I blame Mr. Weasley one bit, but my parents simply don’t know what to make of it, and they keep throwing questions at me. Violence- is it encouraged in wizarding? Is there fighting all over at Hogwarts? Do children put curses on each other? Do teachers use magical punishments? Do I feel quite safe? I told them that there isn’t much fighting, and that if there were any cursing going on, I'd be all right as I’m very well versed in counter-curses. And I told them that teachers certainly do not use magical punishments. I didn’t tell them about the punishments Filch always threatens, because they were terrified enough. Oh, dear. I wonder what they’d do if they knew about the Sorcerer’s Stone?

Are you kidding me? Trolls, poisons, three-headed dogs and plants that try to choke you? They’d never let me come back to Hogwarts again. But you know, Gwen, I really don’t think the wizarding world is any worse than the Muggle one. Anywhere you go, you can find rotten people who want to pick a fight. Just look at Susie Raviski.

I wouldn’t know. She won’t come near me. Hah! At least I’ve managed to defeat one of my enemies. Sooner or later, we’ll find a way to shut Malfoy up, too. But fighting is certainly not the answer, so I’m going to have to find some kind of mature alternative. Maybe I could charm myself to be selectively deaf to everything he says.

Ooooh, Charms. I have to go. I still have to get through all my non-Lockhart textbooks. See you later, Gwen.

August 28

I leave for Hogwarts next Tuesday! Mum let me get a lilac colored sweater, and I’m going to wear it to our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and I can’t wait to start learning all the techniques he talks about in his books. I hope I learned enough to keep up!

Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it. Mmmmm, Gwen, Mum’s just brought me some Brambleberry Tea she bought in Diagon Alley at Mrs. Weasley’s suggestion. It’s heavenly. It’s actually supposed to be self-brewing, and you’re supposed to use a Boiling charm, but it works quite nicely on a regular stove. Mum got all types of things on this trip. She bought the "Big Book of Magical Dentistry"- she wants to see what it’s all about. I keep begging her to let me get my teeth shrunk, but she’s highly skeptical about medicinal magic. She also got a Lister for the kitchen, which tells you the second you run out of something, and she got some jam from the Forbidden Fruit Company—all their products increase your brain capacity, and we’ve been putting it on our toast every morning. I don’t know if Mum’s supposed to eat magic stuff, but as she hasn’t sprouted any extra parts yet, I suppose it’s all right.

I’ve got all my inks and quills and parchment and books..... ahhhhh. I love the smell of new school things. It always makes me so excited, all the fresh pages, the idea of how much I can learn! I just love putting things away in my head. I can never understand people who don’t like school. Also, I’m still getting my magical books of the month from my subscription last Christmas. August is "Spelling From the Heart- Stores of Love Charms Gone Perfectly Right and Desperately Wrong". It’s helping me entertain myself in these last few days before school starts. I’m actually reading right now about a girl who slipped a Devotion Draught to one of her professors! But that’s one that turned out Desperately Wrong, because you can’t use a Devotion Draught until you’re a fully fledged witch, and if you try it before that, it just charms the other person into a heightened awareness of your feelings for them. How embarrassing! But it’s her fault- she mustn’t have read the spell properly and thoroughly. I’ll bet I could find a workable love charm. If I wanted. But I don’t.

Just four days, Gwen. Four days and I’ll be back on the Hogwarts Express and I’ll be able to point my wand and do whatever I like! (within reason.) I’m itching, just itching, to do magic. Summer was far too long.

September 1

Well I’m miffed. Harry and Ron aren’t on this train. No, I’m not miffed, I’m worried. Why aren’t they on this train? Fred and George are here- I saw Percy- and Ginny’s right next to me writing in her diary. Where is Ron Weasley if all his siblings are here? And where is Harry? They’d better not be doing anything bad.

I think Ginny’s diary is enchanted too, Gwen. She keeps stopping her writing and waiting and nodding, sometimes giggling, just like I do with you.

Sometimes, when you’re funny. There, she just giggled again and murmured something. It has to be enchanted. I want to ask her if she likes Harry, but that’s really none of my business. It’s just that this is such a perfect opportunity, with them not here.... but I’ll hold back. I don’t want to make her nervous. I mean, I hardly know her, so it would be rude.

You’re right. All right.

I cannot believe them! Why on earth aren’t they on this train? Our first day back and I was so looking forward to a good long talk.... I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.

Well why don’t you ask Ginny about that?

Oh, right. Good thinking, Gwen. ‘Bye.

September 2

It’s not funny. They’re both lucky they haven’t been kicked out of Hogwarts for good, but the way everyone’s behaving, you’d think that coming to school in a flying car and crashing it into a Whomping Willow is some kind of marvelous joke. It’s ridiculous. They said they couldn’t get through the barrier for platform nine and three quarters, but why didn’t they just send an owl? Think about it. You know it’s a bad beginning when the first words I hear from Harry are "Well, we haven’t been expelled," and the first from Ron are, "Skip the lecture."

Fine, I’ll skip the lecture. I won’t mention that you could have been killed, you’ve damaged school property, you could have lost a thousand House Points for Gryffindor, you might’ve ruined your father’s reputation at the Ministry of Magic, and you’ve terrified your little sister not to mention me! Rude, thoughtless, foolish. Percy’s the only one who doesn’t seem to think it’s a cool way to make an entrance, but as he’s a prefect who abides by the rules and gets good marks, Ron and Harry don’t care what he thinks. I wonder if I’ll be made a prefect? I hope so. Then I can give all the lectures I want and nobody can tell me to "skip" anything.

Most of all, though, they missed the First Day Feast and the Sorting. They weren’t there to see Ginny get sorted, and I think she’s a little disappointed. It was adorable- the hat slid all the way down her head, and then gave a little hop and piped "Gryffindor!" and the rest of her brothers cheered her wildly. So did I. She’s a shy girl, but I think I’ll like her- we had a sort of chat on the train and she said she knew who I was because she’d heard about me over the summer, how I’m top of the class and all about the Sorcerer’s Stone and everything. I’m surprised Ron told her about that- but then wizarding families probably aren’t as shocked by that sort of thing as my mum and dad would be.

I think so, yes. I mean, at one point she stared down at the page just reading for five whole minutes, and then gave a little sigh and said "Oh, Tom," and started writing furiously. If it’s not enchanted, then she needs to have her head checked.

I think that’s what she said. Oooh, I need sleep. Tomorrow we start class, and I want to be really rested for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

‘Night!

September 3

Hi, Guinevere! I love school!

I got thirty points for Gryffindor in one day- twenty for knowing about Mandrakes in Herbology. They’re used to restore people who’ve been transfigured or cursed, and we were repotting them all morning while wearing earmuffs, because their cries can kill. It was marvelous! Oh, how wonderful to back at Hogwarts with things like Mandrakes to work on! Then we had Transfiguration and we all had to practice turning beetles into buttons, just to get ourselves back in shape. I made a perfect set of coat buttons—good thing I kept up on my studies and practiced my wrist-flick all summer, because everybody else seemed to be having a rough time. Especially Ron, but then that’s his fault, isn’t it? His wand snapped when he flew that car into the Whomping Willow, and a wand won’t work properly if it’s there’s just Spellotape holding it together—oh, and did I mention he got a Howler this morning in the post?

His own fault. His mother lectured him right there in the Great Hall, in the loudest voice I’ve ever heard. She said everything that I wanted to say to him the other day, and for once he and Harry seemed to realize the seriousness of what they’d done. Sometimes you just have to go about it the loud way when you’re dealing with those two-- and anyway I don’t care if Ron was embarrassed because at lunchtime he grabbed my schedule and saw that I’ve drawn decorations all around my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and he didn’t care one single second if I was embarrassed. He yelled "Why have you outlined all Lockhart’s lessons in little hearts?" and it was loud enough for the whole Gryffindor table to hear. I noticed Ginny give me a sympathetic glance. I’ll bet she really knows what it’s like to be tortured what with six brothers. Poor girl.

Anyway Gwen, we had Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon, and Professor Lockhart was wearing turquoise. He has the nicest dress sense of any wizard I’ve ever seen. He gave us a pop quiz and I got full marks and he said, "Where is Miss Hermione Granger?" I raised my hand and he said I was "Excellent!" and told me to take ten more points to Gryffindor—and I swear I saw him wink at the color of my sweater! All that, and then he let out a cage full of Cornish Pixies for us to try and catch. A real hands-on lesson! They wreaked havoc in the room, but I know Professor Lockhart was just testing our capabilities. Ron and Harry, on the other hand, seem to think he has no idea what he’s doing—they think he’s made up all those things he talks about in his books. But Dumbledore would never let him be our teacher if he didn’t have merit, so I say they’re just jealous because he’s such a clever wizard. I’ve got to go and start the assignment he’s given us- "Compare the conquests of Gilderoy Lockhart to those of Ulysses in a five paragraph essay". That’s going to take far more than five paragraphs, and I mean to do it thoroughly. Talk to you soon!

September 12

Quidditch will definitely be interesting this term, Gwen.

Malfoy is the new Slytherin Seeker. His rich father bought the whole team new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, so now he gets to be on the team. They’ve kicked off the rivalry already—Ron and I were down watching Gryffindor practice this morning when the Slytherins came and tried to take over the field so they could show off. Malfoy said something really nasty of course, about our team’s broomsticks being so old they ought to be raffled off to a museum, so I said, "At least no one in Gryffindor had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

Except then Malfoy called me a "filthy little Mudblood."

He did WHAT? Never mind, don’t repeat it. I heard you. How dare he call you that—oh, wouldn’t I like to teach that brat a lesson—

Everybody else reacted that same way, Gwen. There was a general yell, Fred and George Weasley tried to jump him, Ron pulled out his wand and said, "You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and tried to curse him—but you know his wand’s broken. The curse came out the back end and poor Ron got it right in the stomach, a belly full of slugs. He started belching them everywhere and it was really disgusting. The Slytherins were laughing fit to kill. Harry and I took Ron under the arms and pulled him off to Hagrid’s. I tried to remember the counter-curse to stop him being sick, but there isn’t one; you just have to retch up ‘til they’re all out, and oh, Gwen, he shouldn’t have done that for me, I mean, who cares what Malfoy says?

He told me- between slugs- that Mudblood is the foulest name you can call somebody like me, who’s Muggle-born. It means I have common, dirty blood, and Malfoy thinks he’s better because he’s a pure-blood. Now I understand why he and his father were so vicious to my family in Diagon Alley. They’re prejudiced against witches like me.

No, no, really, it’s okay, Gwen, I don’t care. I’ve got good friends. Ron stood up for me, and he said pure-blood doesn’t mean anything anyway, just look at Neville, he’s pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up. And Hagrid says, "They haven’t invented the spell our Hermione can’t do." Our Hermione, isn’t that nice? Malfoy can’t bother me when I’ve got such great allies.

I am. Hagrid’s a dear, if he is a bit mixed-up. Professor Lockhart was leaving his cabin when we got down there, and I get the feeling Hagrid doesn’t like him. He said that if a word Professor Lockhart says is true, he’ll eat his kettle, but it is perfectly obvious to me that he’s as envious as Harry and Ron. Poor Hagrid, he must be a bit jealous, not being allowed to use magic or anything. He was expelled from Hogwarts in his third year. That’s why he’s gamekeeper instead of a wizarding teacher.

We don’t know. He won’t tell us. I think he has his old school wand inside his umbrella though, because the umbrella is over by his pumpkin patch, which is obviously growing under the influence of an Engorgement Charm. But the pumpkins do look nice. They’ll be fantastic at the Halloween Feast and so even if he is breaking rules, I couldn’t help but say that he’d done a good job on them.

He said Ginny Weasley said the same thing the other day- I guess she was down at his cabin hoping to ‘accidentally’ run into Harry.

I think so too, but Hagrid and Ron of course had to tease Harry about it. What is wrong with them? It’s sweet to be liked. You’d think Ginny were doing something idiotic, the way they go on. The only thing idiotic is that she likes somebody who’s too stupid to appreciate it.

They’re just stupid in general sometimes. Flying a car into a tree- honestly, I’m glad they’ve got detention tonight. Maybe they’ll think twice the next time they want to act like boys.

September 13

Well, Gwen, Harry’s finally gone crazy. He is now hearing voices.

Yes. He was doing his detention with Professor Lockhart, helping him answer his fan mail (and may I just say that I don’t think that’s any kind of a punishment? I mean, I’ll do that voluntarily if Professor Lockhart needs an assistant or anything. I should ask him.)

So he was in detention when he heard a voice say, "Come.... come to me.... let me rip you.... let me tear you..... let me kill you...." But Professor Lockhart couldn’t hear a thing, and he’s the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! I think Harry might need to try and get a bit more sleep. Too many early-morning Quidditch practices—he’s confused.

That is strange. Oh, Hermione- before I forget to ask you- is Ginny Weasley still writing in that diary?

All the time, why?

Yes, I think so.

Oh, Gwen, I have to go. I’ve got Elementary Spellish homework, and I want to add a few things to that essay for Transfiguration—and here’s Neville, wanting help with Potions. Oh, Neville.

September 21

Hey, Gwen.

I found out about Mudblood. I asked about the history of that term, in Elementary Spellish, and it’s.... awful. It’s like the words we have in the Muggle world that some people use to make fun of people who are of other races and other backgrounds. There are all kinds of ugly names- so ugly that I don’t even want to repeat them- and Mudblood is one of those words. Where I’m from, you have to be a serious bigot to use a word like that. The Malfoys are more hateful than I thought.

I don’t. It’s not that, I just.... I never thought that I’d be the subject of that kind of prejudice. It’s a strange feeling, being hated for something you’ve got no control over. That’s all.

Spellish is easy, by the way. If this is what it’s like to have one extra class, then I want three. I can handle anything. Muggle-born or not, I’m top witch in my class, and it’s going to stay that way. I’m going to study.

October 11

We’ve got our first tests back, and you’ll forgive me for not writing lately when I tell you that I got full marks on all of them, plus house points for my Defense Against the Dark Arts one! And Professor Lockhart wrote a note on the back of my test, which says,

"My dear Miss Granger,

Again you are the only student to correctly answer every question- take ten points to Gryffindor for knowing that my lifelong recurring nightmare is that of being chased down by six hundred Giants, and defeating them with the Impediment Charm! Also, take five points for choosing to use purple ink.

Excellent Work!

Isn’t that divine? I’m keeping this test forever!

Oh dear. Ginny’s smoking at the ears.

No, literally, she’s smoking at the ears. Percy’s been trying to make her take some of Madam Pomfrey’s Pepperup potion for her head cold, and I guess she finally drank it because it makes you smoke at the ears. Ginny’s a redhead, so it looks like her head is on fire. Ron’s laughing at her as if he wouldn’t look exactly the same, and poor Ginny’s just trying hide behind a book so Harry won’t be able to see her—no, he doesn’t seem to know what’s happening—oh, she definitely likes him, I can tell.

Yes, I’m very observant about that kind of thing. I can always see when somebody.... well, you know, when somebody has a crush. They act like idiots. I’m awfully glad I don’t behave that way over anybody- not that Ginny’s so bad, she’s just painfully shy around Harry so it makes it more obvious.

Hah! Gwen, Ron’s taking out his chess set. He owes me a game, so he’d better not start playing with Harry-- I might have beat him last time if Neville hadn’t misdirected a Flying charm and knocked over all our pieces. Yes, he’s giving me the game face. I have to go, I have to beat him. Bye, Gwen.

October 17

Hi, Gwen. I’m not feeling well. My head cold is making it impossible to study, I’ve used up a box of tissues and I can’t concentrate on anything but how sick I am. Harry’s at Quidditch and Ron’s down there with him, so I’m bored, but then I saw Ginny writing in her diary and I just knew I’d feel better if I came to talk to you. It’s a glum sort of day.

I don’t know- Diagon Alley, I expect. Why are you concerned?

Well it could be from another shop, couldn’t it? I mean, your headquarters had brains from France and Malta, so couldn’t Ginny’s diary just be foreign?

Maybe her brother Charlie sent it from Romania. Should I ask her?

I will. Gwen, you know, I’ve never really thought about it, and please don’t be offended, but.... what are you, anyway? Where are diary brains from? What are you made up of? Were you a person? Are you a ghost?

I thought you’d ask this sooner or later, and I’m not a bit offended. Let me see—how to explain it? I’m not a person, exactly. I’m a consciousness from a diary written by a person. I am the essence of that person’s thoughts and life as it was written in the diary.

You mean you’re a brain made up of Guinevere’s diary entries? The actual Guinevere?

Yes. Guinevere—well, I wrote this diary while I was in school, and then in Camelot, at King Arthur’s court. I kept it faithfully, enchanting the pages as I went along so that they would retain my secrets and myself.

Wait! Wait! What? But Guinevere- that’s only a myth- Camelot- it’s just a legend—

You..... this..... I have a diary that is the consciousness of Guinevere? Sincerely? Camelot Guinevere? All this time? Why you’re – you’re a queen – you’re a famous—goodness!

How did you get into this diary? Did you transfer somehow? How does it work?

Others? You mean you’ve been someone else’s diary before you were mine?

But no, even if all this were possible, this can’t be true-- because Guinevere wasn’t a witch!

Wow.

You know, I’m very glad I had no idea who you were when I started writing in here. I’d have been absolutely terrified to talk to you. I mean, you’re Guinevere and I’m just some second year witch at Hogwarts who happened to make a lucky purchase in a shop. But now I know you and I’ve told you so much, and you’re just.... how can I put this?

Yes. I don’t feel a bit awkward about knowing who you really are.

Oh, well. Thanks. Although I do wonder...

I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to believe – I mean, Ijust can’t imagine the real Guinevere liking Quidditch so much as you do.

Well, it isn’t the sort of thing I’d expect the Queen of Camelot to do – go ‘round cheering for a lot of flying brooms.

Oh! I only wish I’d been allowed! I didn’t get to cheer for Quidditch very much. I lived in a Muggle world most of my life, but I had developed a taste for Quidditch at school – it is a very old sport, you know; it was played in my time as well – and when I went to Camelot, I missed it so... I suppose a thing can become rather an obsession, if it gets taken away.

I suppose.... but I have another question.

All right. My last question is – well – I’ve read the legend, you know, and I just never imagined... well, I don’t know quite how to put this, but Gwen, you’re a little bit – sarcastic.

There it is again. I just wouldn’t have imagined Guinevere....

Of course they can! But the story of your life doesn’t read quite that way, you know. In the story it says–

The story of my life is just that, Hermione. A story. The facts aren’t always going to match up with the legend. Sometimes, I wonder who was responsible for giving those authors their information. Of course, if anybody wanted the true account, they ought to just read me – but I’d never let that happen.

Never?

Oh, would you? I’d like to know the true account!

So you were always sarcastic, but I’m the only one who knows it?

I’m teasing.

I know it. Actually, come to think of it, I suppose my personality now does differ a bit from the Guinevere I once was. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? I’ve been a diary consciousness for hundreds of years – some of my owners’ idiosyncrasies must’ve rubbed off on me a bit, along the way. For example, I’m certain that my use of language has changed. Why, I haven’t said "thee" or "thou" in absolute centuries.

Do you... think that maybe... I’ll rub off on you?

I have?!

Gwen!

Honestly. What’s so wrong with the library anyway?

Well, all right... but goodness, I mean, you will let me tell Mum who you are? I mean, she’ll absolutely die.

Oh, Gwen. Thanks. I think I’ll write her a letter right now. See you soon.

October 24

Hello, Gwen.

It was such a nice peaceful common room until Quidditch practice let out. Fred and George Weasley must think quiet is a sin or something. Now it’s going to take half an hour before I can bring Ron back ‘round to this Potions assignment, which Harry hasn’t even started yet. But I suppose it’s not his fault; he was at practice and then Filch kept him back awhile.

For once, no. Filch is just in a rotten mood from cleaning up the halls all day, and he wanted to punish Harry for dripping mud in them. Well Gwen, it’s raining outside and there’s dirt on the Quidditch field. What does he want? But he dragged Harry into his office anyway. He had to leave him there a minute to go scream at Peeves for something, and that’s when Harry poked around on his desk and found some sort of "Kwikspell Correspondence Course in Beginner’s Magic" letter, whatever that is. I don’t know why he’d want to poke around Filch’s desk when he was already in a bad mood- it was a dumb idea. Filch came back and saw that the letter was moved, and just about had an attack. Harry said he was actually worried Filch might try and use those ankle-suspension chains he’s always threatening. But then Nearly-Headless Nick (that’s Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor ghost,) made an enormous racket with Peeves and distracted Filch so that he got confused and forgot to punish Harry.

Wasn’t it? Harry asked Nick if there was anything he could do in return, and he said yes, we could all three come down to his five-hundredth deathday party on Halloween, and Harry said we would! I imagine not many live people have ever been to a deathday party, and I’m sure it’ll be just fascinating. I wonder if Professor Lockhart’s ever been to one? I’m sure he has. I’ll just have to ask him all about it tomorrow.

Ugh, just thought of something. Hope Moaning Myrtle doesn’t come to Nick’s party. She’s this ghost who haunts a toilet in one of the girls’ bathrooms, and she’s so depressing that no one even goes in there anymore. I mean, you say one word to her and she cries like a baby. It’s ridiculous.

OH NO--- DUCK!!!!! Are they MAD? Yes, Gwen, the Weasley twins are insane! They’ve put a Filibuster firework inside a Salamander, and the poor thing is ricocheting around the room and giving off orange sparks! Fred says they "rescued" it from a Care of Magical Creatures class. Rescued it so they could torture it! Oh yes, very funny—you tell them, Percy. Of course Harry and Ron are having an absolute fit of laughter. Well that’s going to end in a moment. I’m making them do this Potions essay right now.

November 1

Gwen, there’s a mystery. Something very odd happened last night. Odd and disturbing. And I’m not talking just about the deathday party, although that was certainly very strange. A roomful of ghosts and putrid food and Moaning Myrtle. Yes, Myrtle was there, and of course when we said hello she got offended and cried herself silly.

But the really odd thing happened after Nick’s party. We were leaving the dungeon when Harry started to hear that voice again- the one Professor Lockhart couldn’t hear that night when he was in detention. He was absolutely panicked about it. It was saying things like "I smell blood" and Harry was afraid it would try to kill somebody, so we tried to follow it. Well, follow him really, because we couldn’t hear anything. I guess the voice floats up, or something, because Harry took us all the way to the second floor, to the end of the last corridor. And that’s where it was, in the torchlight.

On the wall, in foot-high words, somebody had put:

That is disturbing.

That’s not the only thing. Underneath the words something was hanging up on a torch bracket. It was Mrs. Norris- Filch’s cat- all stiff and glass-eyed with her tail straight up like she’d just been stuffed. It was freakish.

That’s just it. Nobody has a clue. There was just the cat, the words, and a big puddle coming from the bathroom- I’m sure Myrtle just got in the pipes again. And of course there was that voice Harry had been hearing.... not that I could really verify that. Ron said we’d better get out, because we didn’t want to be found there. I thought that was right, I mean, we didn’t look too innocent standing there in the middle of all that when we should have been down at the Halloween Feast.

But that’s right when the Feast let out. Everyone came crashing through the halls. We were surrounded by students. They stared at us, trying to read the wall and take in the whole scene. To make matters worse, Draco Malfoy stepped up. He was flushed and grinning and he said, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!" Then he looked at me and he was laughing as if he meant me in particular.

Filch came over next and when he saw what had happened to his cat, he went—and I mean this—insane. Turned on Harry and us and started to shriek. Lucky someone thought to call the other teachers, because Filch was about to kill Harry, no question, until Dumbledore and some other professors came up and took the five of us away- that’s us three, Mrs. Norris, and Filch- to Professor Lockhart’s office, to try and figure everything out. (May I just say that Professor Lockhart’s office is absolutely perfect? He has his awards and pictures all up on the walls- those magic pictures that wave and smile- I wonder if he’d give me one? Harry says he sends them off with his fan mail replies ,so maybe if I sent him a letter, he---)

Oh, well we found out what had happened to Mrs. Norris. Dumbledore examined her and said she’d been Petrified. She’s not dead, but she’ll need a Mandrake Restorative Draught when our Herbology ones are fully mature. Filch just kept on crying and screaming that Harry’d done it, but Dumbledore said it’s advanced Dark magic and no second year could possibly have managed it.

Then Snape said (Snape was there, too, and Professor McGonagall,) that maybe we’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but why was that? So we explained about the deathday party and being down in the dungeon. But that didn’t explain why we hadn’t gone to the Halloween Feast afterwards, I mean, why had we gone without any supper? We couldn’t very well tell the truth: "We were chasing Harry, who is currently hearing a floating voice that smells blood." So Harry told them we were just off to bed early because we’re tired.

Our teachers know us a bit too well to believe that. Snape said Harry ought to be taken off the Quidditch team until he tells the truth.

Calm down, Gwen, Professor McGonagall loves Quidditch almost as much as you do, and the only thing she loves more is Gryffindor. So if you think she’s going to let Snape ruin Gryffindor’s Quidditch chances then you’re crazy. Harry’s still our Seeker.

Don’t scare me like that!

Well it scared us, too, but Dumbledore says Harry’s innocent until proven guilty, and he let us all go. Once we were off the hook we got out of there as fast as we could, ducked into a classroom and started whispering. Harry asked if we thought he should have told the truth, but Ron said no, that "hearing voices no one else can hear isn’t a good thing, even in the wizarding world." I think he was thinking the same thing I was—is Harry losing it? I mean, I didn’t hear a thing, Gwen. Harry must’ve felt us thinking it, because he said, "You do believe me, don’t you?" Ron said yes, but he had to admit it was weird.

It is weird. All that about a Chamber of Secrets.... the enemies of the Heir.... I guess that’s the Heir of Slytherin. I read about Salazar Slytherin in "Hogwarts, A History". He formed Slytherin House when Hogwarts was first founded. But what does that have to do with Malfoy? What does it have to do with me being a Mud—I mean, with me being Muggle-born?

Muggle-born. That’s such ROT. I mean, look at Filch, taking a Kwikspell course! We found out tonight he’s got no magic at all- he thinks that’s why Mrs. Norris was attacked- and he’s from an all-wizard family. Ron says that makes him a Squib.

Oh, Ron says it isn’t funny ordinarily—but as it’s Filch, you know—he thinks that’s why Filch hates the students so much. He’s bitter.

Yes, it’s sad. If Filch were a bit nicer, I might even feel badly for him. But it just goes to show, doesn’t it, that blood doesn’t count?

Anyway, that’s the story, Gwen. Isn’t it strange? The Chamber of Secrets.... why do I remember... I know I’ve read it somewhere.... YES! That’s it! It was in "Hogwarts, A History". I have to go to the library right now, before all the copies get checked out—I wish I’d brought mine, but I couldn’t fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books!

November 8

Gwen, hi—not only have all the copies of "Hogwarts, A History" been taken out of the library, but I’ve managed to have two very bad ideas in one week. I’m feeling edgy.

First off, I remembered what you suggested, about asking Ginny Weasley about her diary if anything odd happened. I think last weekend qualifies as odd, so I decided to ask her if the diary’s enchanted, and where she got it. And I’m not blaming you for the idea, Gwen, it’s just I have terrible timing. Ron was trying to cheer her up- she was sitting on the sofa in the common room trying not to cry any more about Mrs. Norris—the whole episode last weekend really upset her. Ron was saying things like "You haven’t really got to know Mrs. Norris. Honestly, we’re better off without her." It wasn’t helping. Especially when he said not to worry, that they’d catch the maniac who did it and expel him- he only hoped the maniac would Petrify Filch first! Ginny turned totally white and started rocking back and forth.

I think, Gwen, that Ron was actually trying to help. It’s just he doesn’t have the first clue. So I said, "Ron, go on, let me have a minute with Ginny," and moved over next to her. She said, "I’m okay, Hermione, it’s okay, I’m okay," sounding just like Neville does when he’s not okay. I told her all the things that always make me feel better: that no one can hurt us as long as Professor Dumbledore’s around, that Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world and that with teachers like Professor Lockhart around to ward off the Dark Arts, we’ve got no worries at all. She looked so much better after that, I thought it might be okay to ask her about ‘Tom’. So I did.

"By the way, Ginny," I said, "I have a question about your diary, if you don’t mind." Well, Gwen, that is as far as I got. The blood left her body so suddenly I thought she’d faint on the spot. Instead, she bolted.

I just picked a bad moment, Gwen- she was so shaken up already, and diaries are so personal- maybe she thought I’d read it or something, I don’t know. I told you she’s shy. Now whenever I’m in the room, she avoids me entirely, so I definitely botched that one, and I won’t be finding out anything about where Ginny got her diary.

My other bad idea is actually a really good, really smart idea, but it’s against about fifty school rules so I’m trying to pretend I haven’t thought of it because it’s so good that I might just have to do it. I’m completely torn.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Gwen, about what Malfoy said about the Heir, and about the Mudbloods being next. He seems like he knows an awful lot about what’s going on. My first thought was, what if Malfoy’s the Heir? His family’s all been in Slytherin and they’re certainly nasty enough-- and if they’re after Muggle-borns then I’m in definitely in danger, because they already hate me. But then I thought, no, this is Malfoy we’re talking about, and he’s not smart or powerful enough to Petrify anything—I don’t think he could possibly be the Heir of Slytherin.

But maybe he knows who it is. Couldn’t his father have told him? It’s possible. He’s the darling of Slytherin, if he’s not the Heir, and he just... he keeps looking at me.... Anyway, I was wishing all week that there was some way, any way, to get close to Malfoy and find out what he knows—but there isn’t. I’d rather drink Neville’s version of a Boil-Curing Draught than ask Malfoy's help with anything, and we all know he wouldn’t associate with the likes of me if his life depended on it, so there it is.

Unless. Unless. Oh, it’s too good, I might not be able to stop myself, and then I’ll be expelled and thrown back into my old life forever. But maybe I could manage it.

Okay. Snape was lecturing us in Potions the other day, all about different recipes that can assist in Transfiguration, and he mentioned this one called a Polyjuice Potion. You add a bit of any person you want to Transfigure into- like a hair or a fingernail clipping- and one dose of the Polyjuice Potion will turn you into that person for one hour. Well I couldn’t help but think, if I were to Transfigure into one of those lousy Slytherin girls, like Pansy Parkinson or Millicent Bulstrode, then I’d have a whole hour to ask Draco Malfoy anything I want about the Chamber of Secrets, and he'd probably tell me everything. Say it isn’t brilliant.

Except I’d have to get a book out of the Restricted Section of the library in order to get the potion recipe, and then if I managed that there’d probably be a ton of advanced ingredients, which I’d have to steal from Snape, but I just couldn’t let myself go that far—or could I—yes, I think I—no, Gwen, talk me out of it, please! It doesn’t matter! The Chamber of Secrets, well, I don’t even know what it is, and Malfoy’s just an idiot who said all that to scare me. There isn’t any Heir of Slytherin. Is there?

I guess so. I can’t think about it anymore, I just can’t think about it, it’s driving me crazy and I have to study a thousand other things. See you.

November 12

I came back early from dinner because I’m too bottled-up to eat anything, and I only have about a half-hour before everyone else comes back, so just excuse me while I get this all off my chest. I’m scared, Gwen. I won’t tell Harry or Ron, but Malfoy—the way he keeps looking at me in the halls—it’s not good. And once I get an idea in my head, I just can’t stop thinking about it, so this whole Chamber of Secrets thing has just been making me feel a little cracked. I had to find out what it meant.

I went right ahead and interrupted Professor Binns in the middle of History of Magic today, and demanded that he inform us of the legend of the Chamber. I don’t think anyone’s ever raised a question in there before- probably because no one’s ever been awake in there before- but that woke everybody right up. Professor Binns told us everything. Salazar Slytherin, who formed Slytherin House, did not believe that students should be admitted to Hogwarts unless they were of pure-blood descent. Godric Gryffindor disagreed with him, and eventually drove him out of the school with the help of Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw, all of whom believed that any child who showed magical capabilities should be given a wizarding education, Muggle-born or not.

So Slytherin was forced to leave the school. But before he did, the story goes that he built a chamber that none of the others knew about, deep in the castle, that could only be opened by his own descendants. And in the chamber he concealed a monster that, when unleashed, would fulfill his dreams of purging Hogwarts of all the Muggle-born students. Basically, there’s a mythological monster here who wants to kill everyone who doesn’t have pure-blood. And that means me.

Now, Professor Binns says that it’s just a story, a legend—but so is Guinevere and so are witches— so I say that legends are true around here. Who Petrified the cat? What is this voice Harry’s been hearing? Who put those words on the wall? It’s extremely unsettling, and I’m frightened. I’ve got to know what Malfoy knows- he must know something- he just gives me these awful stares, and mouths "You’re next."

That’s it. I have to do it. The Polyjuice Potion. I’ll tell Ron and Harry. Oh, Ron’s such a.... he wanted to copy my composition today after we had ten days to do it, and I’m feeling extremely snappish what with all this Heir of Slytherin madness, so I bickered with him hard.

"I only need another two inches, come on—"

"Forget it, Ron. We have to go to class."

"Just tell me one thing, come ON, Hermione,"

"Too late, next time think ahead."

"You’re such a know-it-all, I swear."

"And you’re lazy."

"As if! At least I get outside and do things- who’s the one always cooped up in the library?"

"Fine, tell that to Professor Binns, say ‘Professor, I haven’t got my homework assignment, but I did get in some lovely Quidditch,’ and see what he thinks."

"Sometimes I really want to kill you—"

"Good, you can help Malfoy. That’s top on his list, too."

He felt sorry after that and tried to make it up to me, but no thank you, I am in a BAD MOOD. The least he can do is try to understand why I have such a short temper right now, but he and Harry don’t have anything to worry about because they’re pure-blood.

At least I got to laugh at him a bit later when we were going to drop off our books before dinner. We passed by the place where we found Mrs. Norris-- that foul writing’s still on the wall, it won’t scrub off-- and decided to look ‘round a bit for clues. We found scorch marks of some kind, and then I saw a row of spiders marching in a line on the windowsill, dropping down a thread like little soldiers. Really, it was so bizarre! I said to Harry, "Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" And Harry said, "No, have you, Ron?"

Ron was frozen back against the wall, looking like he was trying very hard not to run. Apparently, spiders are not his favorite things. He never told me he was scared of them! He doesn’t like the way they move or something, just because when he was three, Fred changed his teddy-bear into a great big one. I tried not to giggle but you should have seen his face, and the spiders were just babies. I wonder what he’d do if he saw a tarantula! I should take one out of the cabinet next time we’re in Potions, and see.

That’s really it for clues, though. We’re no closer to finding out who the Heir is. Oh, and that flood of water was mopped up, but when Harry reminded us of it, sure enough it must’ve led to Myrtle’s toilet. (Harry and Ron both looked really uncomfortable being in the girls’ bathroom, which I also thought was funny.) We tried to say hi to Myrtle and ask her if she’d seen anything, but of course she just threw a big fit of self-pity because she’s dead, and dived down into the pipes again. So we left the bathroom and ran straight into Percy.

That might have been the funniest bit, come to think of it- listening to Percy tell Ron off for lurking around in the girls’ room- or at least it would have been funny if they hadn’t gotten into a fight. Percy said if Ron had any feelings he might think of Ginny, because she’s scared we’re all going to get expelled over what happened to Mrs. Norris, and so we oughtn’t to hang around the scene of the crime. Ron said Percy doesn’t care about Ginny, he’s only worried about us ruining his chances to be Head Boy next year. Percy got mad and took five points from Gryffindor.

Oh great, everyone’s back from dinner, and now I have to try and concentrate on Charms when all I can think about is "Enemies of the Heir, beware." I’ve been wrestling with this Polyjuice Potion for a week and now I’ve got to make a decision. Do I try it? Why does everything have to be so difficult, Gwen?

November 13

My mood is hardly improved, but at least it is decided. We’re doing it. The Polyjuice Potion. I almost didn’t tell Harry and Ron because they are getting on my nerves so badly, but we’re doing it and that’s it. Here’s the plan: I get Professor Lockhart to sign a library note saying I can take "Moste Potente Potions" out of the Restricted Section so that we’ll have the recipe. We’ll think about getting the ingredients later. What do you think?

Have you got a better one?

I finally presented the idea to Harry and Ron because they were talking about how they think Malfoy really is the HeirHHHHHH HeirH. I disagreed, but I said that if we really want to know, then what we need to do is go over to Slytherin and ask Malfoy a few questions without him knowing it’s us. Harry didn’t see how that was possible, and Ron just laughed at me- he obviously doesn’t see how upset I am over this because he is trying my nerves every second and he has a sarcastic remark for everything. He and Harry didn’t even remember Snape telling us about the Polyjuice Potion. Where would they be if I weren’t always thinking for them?

I think I’d better shut up for awhile, because I’m being lousy. I’m just tied up in knots, that’s all- I’m sorry I’m so cross, Gwen. I think I’ll go to bed.

Thanks, I hope so too. Goodnight.

November 21

We’ve got the recipe! I told Professor Lockhart that I just wanted "Moste Potente Potions" as a bit of background reading to help me understand "Gadding with Ghouls", and do you know what he said? "I’m sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help"!!! And then he signed my library note with his special peacock quill that he only uses for book signings! He’s just wonderful. And did you know he also plays Quidditch? He told Harry he’d give him some pointers, which I thought was very generous, but Harry looked at him like he was insane. Then, when we were out of earshot, Ron called Professor Lockhart a "brainless git"! He is not a brainless git! And I didn’t want Madam Pince to take that library note he’d signed for me, I wanted to keep it, but Ron wrenched it away. What is wrong with him?

We’re using Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom as our base of operations, because nobody in their right mind goes in there. We took the book into a stall and went through the recipe. I felt calm for the first time in days. Finally we were going to do something, not just sit around waiting for some monster to come and kill me. Just having that recipe in front of me made me feel a million times better.

And that’s when the boys started to complain. Harry’s worried because we have to steal so many of the ingredients. Ron’s mad because he thinks it’s sick to drink a potion that contains actual bits of Slytherin. "I’m drinking nothing with Crabbe’s toenails in it." Neither of them gave one single thought to me- to the fact I’m Muggle-born and have to do something about this— it wasjust "What about this, Hermione, what about that, Hermione, what a bad idea, Hermione" on and on and on. Finally I just let loose and yelled.

"If you two are going to chicken out, fine. I don’t want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don’t want to find out if it’s Malfoy, I’ll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in!"

That shut them up, for once. Even Myrtle stopped crying in the end stall. Ron said, "I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be persuading us to break rules," and it was the first time in two weeks that his tone of voice was friendly to me. But then Harry made the mistake of asking how long the potion will take, and when I said it takes a month, Ron was off again. "A month? Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by that time!" Well thank you, Ron. I hadn’t thought of that. I am just sick of all the whining. I will do this by myself if I have to.

I’m going up to bed because I’ve been cranky for two weeks and it’s making me tired early. I want to stay up and study, but what’s the point if I’m just going to be killed. Harry and Ron are just leaving for bed, too. There they go, up to their dormitory, laughing about something. They don’t know how scared I am, and they don’t care. How they can think about Quidditch? Well, Harry’s first match is tomorrow so I suppose— and yes, Gwen, I’ll tell you all about it first thing. Goodnight.

Wait a minute, hold on— they’re not talking about Quidditch—they’re talking about me.

Well, I wasn’t meant to hear that! I guess they figured I was out of earshot.

First they were talking about the match, and then Ron was saying-

"Seriously, Harry, just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow. I’m sick of seeing her like this."

"I know, she’s tense, isn’t she?"

"’Course she is. She’s scared because she’s Muggle-born. I’m worried about her, too."

"Right. Yeah, I’ll knock that git off his broom, don’t worry."

I feel better.

November 22

Ah, Quidditch. The joy. The agony. Where to begin? Maybe it’s better if I don’t tell you, after all, the suspense could be unhealthy—and of course there was that enchanted Bludger—but you wouldn’t want to hear about all that, I mean, I wouldn’t want to bore you—

You’re too easy, Gwen. Okay, let me set the scene. Ron and I left Harry with our best wishes, and climbed into the stands. It was a heavy late-autumn day, and there was thunder in the air, and we were going up against the most hated house in all of Hogwarts. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all cheered when our team soared out above the pitch in their red cloaks, looking ready to fight! They were followed by Slytherin in slime-green, each riding his own shining new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Both teams hovered as Madam Hooch unleashed the game balls—she blew the whistle—and the game was underway!

First thing, a Bludger hurtled at Harry’s head- he ducked and it barely missed him- and it was beaten off by George Weasley. Harry shot upwards, and started scanning for the Snitch. That’s when we heard Malfoy yell, "All right there, scarhead?" Ron jumped up next to me and hollered up, "What a waste, Malfoy, a flier like you on a broom like that!" Malfoy couldn’t hear him, but everyone in our section applauded and Lee Jordan announced, "Yes, a sad waste- couldn’t have put that any better myself! And Gryffindor Chaser Katie Bell has the Quaffle and she—ah, there’s a Bludger in her way, no score—and it’s back already to Gryffindor—Alicia Spinnet nears the hoop and she’s going to—no, there’s another Bludger—what’s going on up there, where are our Beaters? Oi, Weasleys, get in the game!"

But our Beaters were busy. The other Bludger, which had flown at Harry first thing, was continuing to fly at him with a vengeance. When batted away, it would stop in midair, turn, and zoom straight for Harry again! George and Fred took turns whacking at it, but no matter where they aimed, it would change direction and come for Harry like it was magnetized. Bludgers are supposed to tackle everybody, but this one had a mind of its own and there was nothing for the Weasley twins to do but each take a side of Harry and try to keep the rogue Bludger from breaking his jaw.

With both our Beaters and our Seeker stuck in a clump, Gryffindor could hardly survive. It left Slytherin free to control the other Bludger entirely, and they slung it at our Chasers again and again, making them miss every possible shot. They also used it to keep our Keeper occupied—Oliver Wood was shunted to the side by the Bludger and then Marcus Flint put the Quaffle through once—twice—and it was sixty points to zero for Slytherin before you could blink.

Finally when they managed to smack the Bludger into Angelina Johnson’s stomach, throwing her backwards, making her double up, and losing us another goal-shot, Wood called a time out.

We couldn’t hear from the stands what was happening in the huddle, but I knew one thing. That Bludger had obviously been fixed. Ron said "I just don’t see how, though." I said I thought Malfoy had done it, but Ron just laughed and said he’d be surprised if Malfoy could tell a Bludger from a hole in the ground, let alone be able to curse one. But I said, "No, Ron, really, think about it, why else would it keep going for our Seeker and never for himself? He knew there was only one way to beat Harry—he’d have to cheat—and somehow he’s done it!" Ron looked like he really wanted to believe me, just to have one more reason to hate Malfoy.

Time out was over. The game began again and the storm had begun by this time—rain was falling and the Bludger was still going for Harry a hundred percent. Fred and George, however, had returned to protecting our Chasers so we could catch up our score. Harry was now doing his best to out-fly the rogue Bludger on his own, in the rain.

What a sight, Gwen, I mean it. Harry dodged, he swooped, he spun to avoid being smashed in mid-air. Malfoy yelled, "Training for the ballet, Potter?" I yelled back, "Shut up, you sorry excuse for a Seeker!" and Lee Jordan whistled and announced, "Another on-the-spot comment from the stands! Did you hear that, Malfoy? It was ‘Sorry excuse for a See—‘" but Professor McGonagall had clapped a hand over his mouth.

And then it happened.

BAM!! The rogue Bludger slammed into Harry’s arm and the crunch was audible. There was a sickening gasp from three quarters of the stands but of course, the Slytherins cheered. Then, to our shock, Harry lurched downward, pivoted, and flew straight at Malfoy like a bullet! We all thought he was going to attack him and suddenly three quarters of the stands erupted in cries of "GET HIM, POTTER!" But we were wrong, Harry wasn’t attacking Malfoy—better than that, Harry had seen—

Oh, still hanging on tight, are you, Gwen? Good! Yes, it was the Snitch- it was right above Malfoy’s ear and the idiot didn’t even see it! Harry’s broken arm was hanging off him at a crazy angle, but even that didn’t stop him- he picked up his good hand from the broom, reached out, snatched the Snitch, tumbled to the ground—and fainted. The crowd went wild! People were cheering, Slytherin was hissing, Professor McGonagall and Lee Jordan were exchanging heated words with Madam Hooch- probably about that Bludger- and all in all it was a victory for Gryffindor! Tell everyone at Miss Vauclain’s.

You know I will! Oh, Hermione! But Harry’s arm- the Bludger- will he be all right? Was it Malfoy’s fault?

Well, about Harry’s arm. Ron and I ran down to where Harry had fainted, and Professor Lockhart was trying to help him. He was going to mend his arm- heal the bones. Well, anyone can make a mistake, Gwen. I mean, the point really is that he stopped Harry being in pain, isn’t it? It’s not that off target to do what he did.

Well he... he de-boned it. Instead of fixing the bones, he removed them. An honest mistake! He was the only one trying to help and I’m sure all that noise either distracted him, or somebody bumped him, I mean, it was a very tight crowd all ‘round Harry. Harry looked like he was going to pass out again when he saw his arm, but Ron and I just took him right up to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’s re-growing his bones right now, so there’s no actual harm done. I had to sit around outside the bed-curtain while Ron got him into his pajamas, all the time yelling at me, "How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" What Ron’s got against Professor Lockhart I’ll never know. I still say it’s jealousy.

Thank you, Gwen. You always understand.

Well, that’s really it. We don’t know what happened with the Bludger. I know it was Malfoy’s fault. That’s just one more question we’ll have to ask him when we take that Polyjuice Potion. Ooooh, what if we’re all sitting there, Transfigured, and he admits that he did it! I imagine we’ll all three try and strangle him at once. Wouldn’t he be shocked if Bulstrode, Crabbe and Goyle were suddenly attacking him? Oh, that’s funny.

Harry was tremendous though, Gwen. You would have loved it. He flew so well that Gryffindor’s in the lead for the House Cup, because Harry got fifty points for sticking to it even with that broken arm. Nobody’s rich father can buy them what Harry’s got—courage and talent—no, Malfoy will never be anything to Harry Potter, no matter what kind of broom he’s riding.

November 23

For one day I felt better, but that was yesterday and now I’m terrified again, and don’t tell me to calm down because Colin Creevey’s been Petrified. Just like Mrs. Norris. Ron and I heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick about it this morning at breakfast. And Colin’s Muggle-born, too- a tiny little first year- I felt sick just thinking about him and I must’ve looked sick, too, because Ron said, "You okay, Hermione?" and then offered to come back up here to Gryffindor with me. But I don’t want to sit around here. I want to start that Polyjuice Potion. We’re going down to get whatever ingredients we can out of the student store-cupboard—I’m just waiting on Ron, he’s upstairs borrowing somebody’s old cauldron. It’s taking him long enough. I told him to go on and get Harry from the hospital wing, and meet me in the bathroom- I’d get started on the potion myself. But he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, me wandering the halls alone. Honestly, as if he’s going to protect me- what can Ron Weasley do to the monster of Slytherin that I can’t?

Except maybe make it die laughing. Oh, Gwen, he’s wearing his galoshes and he says he’s got an umbrella in case Moaning Myrtle tries to flood us out with one of her crying fits. He is funny. Got to go.

Gwen, tell me something, please.

How am I supposed to survive seven years of this?

Ron and I were in the toilet stall starting the potion. We threw in the ingredients we managed to get our hands on, and I guess I was looking serious again because Ron said, "You sure you’re all right?" I told him, "I’m fine, I’ll just feel better if we can get some answers. And I wish Malfoy would stop looking at me like that." "What d’you mean," he demanded, "how does Malfoy look at you?" I tried to describe it, the way he leers and points, and whispers with his horrid friends as if he’s saying what’s going to happen to me.

Then Harry came bursting in with his bones all back together, to tell us how Colin got brought up to the hospital wing last night. I told him we already knew about it, and Ron threw the lacewing flies into the potion and practically snarled "The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better." But there’s one thing Malfoy won’t be confessing to, Gwen. Harry found some things out last night. Malfoy didn’t fix that Bludger. It was Dobby.

Yes. He visited Harry in the hospital wing in the middle of the night- Harry woke up and Dobby was sitting on him, sponging off his face. Almost frightened him to death. It seems he’s tried everything to get Harry to stay away from Hogwarts—first stopping his mail so he’d think he had no friends, then he sealed up the barrier at platform nine and three-quarters so Harry and Ron couldn’t get on the Hogwarts Express—

Exactly, and it’s why they nearly got killed by that Whomping Willow. Finally he fixed that Bludger. He hoped Harry’d get injured just enough to get sent home. Ron said if Dobby doesn’t quit trying to save Harry’s life, he’ll probably kill him.

Dobby wouldn’t say- or couldn’t. I guess house-elves don’t have very much freedom. Harry said something about "the house-elf’s enslavement" which did not sound very nice. But Dobby did accidentally let something important slip—he told Harry that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before! It’s real, Gwen! It’s real, it’s been opened, and it’s open now. Harry asked who opened it, but Dobby was too frightened to say. That’s when Colin Creevey got brought up, and in the chaos, Dobby vanished.

So I ask you again, Gwen, how exactly am I supposed to survive this place? There’s a monster. It got Colin. It could get me.

I’ll tell you one thing, though. Knowing for sure that the Chamber exists, I somehow feel better. I’d rather know. And we’re doing everything we can, what with the Polyjuice Potion, to figure out how to stop it. There’s nothing I can do except wait, which gives me loads of time to study. I really need to catch up on everything, but suddenly I just got exhausted all over. One good night of sleep, and I think I’ll be myself again. Goodnight, Gwen.

December 4

Hi, Gwen. What a week.

Ever since Colin got Petrified, the whole school is on the lookout for Slytherin’s monster. Some sixth year Ravenclaws have even started selling "protective" amulets and talismans to "ward off evil". How on earth is a big, smelly onion supposed to make a monster go away? People will buy anything. Neville bought an armload of crystals and newt-tails before he remembered he’s pure-blood. But, "They went after Filch first," he said, "And everyone knows I’m almost a Squib." I told him he’s no such thing (although, after an hour working with him on his Night Vision Potion, I’m not so sure. He nearly blinded us both.)

I’m feeling much better, though. The Polyjuice Potion’s coming along nicely. In about another week, we’ll need to add the Boomslang skin and powdered Bicorn horn, which means stealing from Snape. We’re going to do it in next week’s Potions class. I’m determined to get this Polyjuice perfect. I’m going to do the actual stealing, because I’ve got a clean record. Ron and Harry are going to have to make some kind of diversion, just a little distraction to keep Snape from noticing me.

Yes; it’s about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye. But we have to do it. We have to. Hogwarts shouldn’t be like this- people going ‘round in groups looking scared- the first years especially. Ginny’s taking it really hard because she used to sit next to Colin Creevey in her Charms class. Fred and George Weasley keep covering themselves with boils or fur, and jumping out at her as a joke. I think it’s their way of cheering her up. They haven’t noticed it’s not working. Yes, there’s Fred, covered with fur again--- here comes Ginny—oh, there it is. Now she’s sitting on the sofa, shaking like a leaf.

I don’t have to; Harry just asked him to quit it – I don’t think it was so much for Ginny as just to stop them making noise, but... oooooh, Ginny’s not shaking anymore, she’s blushing. My goodness, redheads certainly do blush hard.

Yes, but he doesn’t blush the same as Ginny. His ears turn red. It happens when he’s embarrassed, and sometimes when he’s mad, too. Like today in Potions, we had to make an Elastix Ointment, and the recipe called for two dead spiders. When I went to get the jar of them from the store-cupboard, Ron tried to trip me- who knows why, he just does that sometimes. When I got back and he tried to trip me again, I slapped the jar down in front of him and said, "If you need to shut your eyes, Ron, I’ll stir the scary spiders in for you." Harry smothered a laugh, and Ron’s ears turned red. But I just couldn’t help myself.

Well, he doesn’t mind them when they’re dead, I guess, because he flicked one into my hair. Disgusting. I kept it, though. I might send it up to the boys’ dormitory with Fred. He says if I want, he’ll plant it under Ron’s pillow, no problem, and he gave me a very appreciative smile when I asked him to do it. So there.

I don’t know. It depends on whether or not Ron behaves himself tonight while we’re studying. He’d better watch his smart mouth, that’s all I have to say.

December 11

Yes! We did it! I can’t believe we actually got away with it! In Potions today, I actually sneaked out and stole the advanced ingredients from Snape’s private stores. I can’t believe I did it. I still feel sort of... elated. I don’t know. What a strange feeling. Right before class, I reminded Harry and Ron they were responsible for making the diversion, and didn’t they look nervous! But I wasn’t. I am dead determined to make this potion.

Harry was ready, even if he wasn’t happy about it. Halfway through class, he took out one of the Weasley twins’ Filibuster fireworks, lit it with his wand and lobbed it into Goyle’s cauldron. SPLASH!! We’d been in the middle of making a Swelling Solution, and gobs of it went everywhere! I didn’t wait to see what else happened- just slipped out, ran into Snape’s storeroom, unbottled a handful of Boomslang skin and some of Bicorn horn into little jars I’d brought, hid them under my robe, and slid back into the dungeon. Snape was still giving Deflating Draughts to everybody who’d been Swelled up, and didn’t notice me leave or return! (He did, however, find the twisted remains of the firework in Goyle’s cauldron, and he said that if he ever finds out who threw it, that person will be expelled. He was looking right at Harry. Harry tried to look innocent but he needn’t bother- even if he hadn’t done it, Snape would still think it was him.)

We’ve stirred in the horn and skin. The Polyjuice Potion will be ready in about two weeks- sometime during the Christmas holidays, I imagine. That’s fine, because Professor McGonagall was making her list yesterday of all the students who are staying over Christmas, and I saw that Malfoy’s name is on it. Harry’s staying too, of course, and Ron and I signed up so we’d be here to keep him company and do the Transfiguring. Harry says he’ll be Goyle, and Ron’s going to be Crabbe. I don’t know which of those Slytherin girls I’m going to be, but we’re all three going to be ugly, that’s for sure. My face might not be anything special, and my front teeth might stick out, but at least I don’t look like a troll.

You wouldn’t say that if you saw them. I never really care what people look like, but seriously, some of the girls in that house are just as scary as the boys. Ugh, Slytherin. What I wouldn’t give to find something good on Malfoy—this potion had better work. I’ve given so much effort to it that I’ve really let my regular studies slide. I mean, I got one answer off in our Herbology pop quiz the other day.

I know. But I’m going to study right now, because end of term tests are next week- the 19^th is the last day of classes before break. I’ll bet I can do extra credit for Professor Sprout and make up that point. Maybe she’ll let me give her some help with the Mandrakes- it’s really important that they grow fast, now that Colin’s been Petrified, too, because they’re needed for the Restorative Draught. I’m going to go ask her if she wants a hand.

December 16

Oh dear, Gwen. I don’t know what to think. Harry’s a Parselmouth. He can talk to snakes.

I only just found out. Harry only just found out. Unfortunately, all of Hogwarts just found out. We were all in the Great Hall tonight because Professor Lockhart decided to start a dueling club so we could learn how to do a proper Wizard’s Duel. We all three thought that would be extremely handy, and signed right up—I especially wanted to learn all Professor Lockhart’s special techniques for dueling, I mean, what with all his experience!

So first, Professor Lockhart got up with Snape to show us how to disarm one another. First you bow- and Professor Lockhart does a lovely bow, even if Harry says it’s more like a curtsey- then you raise your wand, and then you try to set a charm on your opponent. In this case, they were only going to disarm each other. They bowed, raised wands, and Snape yelled "Expelliarmus!" which is the Disarming Charm- but he put so much force behind it that he knocked Professor Lockhart across the room and slammed him into a wall! The Slytherins all cheered, and even Harry and Ron were laughing- when I said, "Do you think he’s all right?" they both answered at once, "Who cares?" I mean, Snape wasn’t supposed to hurt him, he was supposed to disarm only, but he’s such a nasty—poor Professor Lockhart, how’s he supposed to teach us if Snape kills him?

In any case, then we were supposed to pair off and try it ourselves. Professor Lockhart paired Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, (a Hufflepuff boy who’s been working with us in Herbology). He was going to pair Harry with Ron next, but Snape came up and said, "Time to split up the dream team," and made Ron go with Seamus Finnigan. Harry tried to come partner me instead, but Snape wasn’t interested in seeing any of us enjoy ourselves—he made Harry go with Malfoy, and I got put with Millicent Bulstrode. She’s enormous- seriously- I was scared.

We all bowed and raised our wands—but that’s as far as it resembled any kind of respectable Wizard’s Duel. The Great Hall seemed to explode all around me. I shouted "Expelliarmus!" but before the spell was half-out of my mouth, Millicent had disarmed me her own way, by bludgeoning my wand out of my hand with a great swat. Then she pointed her wand, and opened her big, heavy jaw—but nothing came out. She just stared at me with her puzzled, dead eyes and stammered, "Er...." So I ducked and made a quick dive to the floor for my wand. I had just got my fingers to it when Millicent’s own wand clattered to the floor beside mine, and I felt a huge, muscled arm clamp ‘round my neck and lift me up onto my feet. She had me in a headlock. From where I was, I could do nothing but whimper and watch (upside-down) what my friends were trying to do.

Neville ducked Justin’s spell, which went behind him and hit Parvati Patil, whose own spell got reversed, and she ended up disarming herself. Then Neville aimed his own spell, but so poorly that it hit Justin in the head and knocked him to the floor. Neville was so surprised that he fell, too, and they just lay there in a pile.

Ron hit Seamus with what would have been a perfect Disarming Charm, if it weren’t for the fact that his wand’s so badly broken. The spell hit Seamus in his wand-hand, but instead of disarming him it seemed to travel up his arm and into his body, turning him into jelly as it went. He looked weak and gray. Ron had to grab him under the arms and hold him up so he wouldn’t fall down in a puddle, and all the while he was apologizing, "Sorry, sorry—bloody broken piece of—sorry, Seamus."

Harry was doing only slightly better, but he and Malfoy weren’t pretending to stick to disarming—they were really trying to duel. Malfoy hit him in the stomach with a Breathtaker Charm ("Exhalio!") which is like getting slugged. Harry struck back with "Rictusempra!", the Laughing Charm. Between gasps of laughter, Malfoy managed to choke, "Tarantallegra!" and Harry’s feet started to do a crazy tap-dance.

"Finite Incantatem!" It was Snape. All the spells in the room came to a shuddering halt. Half the Great Hall was on the floor, the other half was gasping, bleeding, or groaning, and I was still stuck under Millicent’s armpit, where it was starting to smell. Harry yanked her off me before I gagged. I was more than ready to get out of there and be done with dueling, but Professor Lockhart decided it would be useful for us to learn to block unfriendly charms. Normally I would have agreed with him, but unless he was going to teach us to box, I didn’t see how I was going to "block" Millicent.

He was going to have Neville and Justin do the demonstration, but Snape said no, it was a bad idea. He made fun of Neville’s ability (horrible) and said they’d be "sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." So he chose Harry and Malfoy to do it instead. Professor Lockhart showed Harry how to block- he did this really intricate wiggling motion with his wand, which I could hardly understand, I mean, it looked incredibly complex. I guess Harry didn’t quite catch it either, because he had no idea what to do when Malfoy shouted out "Serpensortia!"

It was just the kind of dirty charm a Slytherin would know how to do. A giant snake burst out of Malfoy’s wand, fell between them, and raised up to strike Harry! Snape wouldn’t even do anything about it. He said, "Don’t move, Potter. I’ll get rid of it," but then he just stood there, smiling like he was watching a movie with a happy ending. Thank goodness Professor Lockhart was there! He stepped up and knocked the snake away from Harry with some kind of Banishing spell- but unfortunately he knocked it in the direction of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Justin and the snake were eye to eye and it was poised to strike again— everyone was deadly quiet except Lavender Brown, who was crying—and that’s when it happened.

Harry ran forward and let out these incredibly scary hissing noises, and the snake dropped to the ground, docile. It looked up from its coils at Harry as if it were nothing but a sweet little pet. Hagrid would have appreciated it- but Justin didn’t. He looked at Harry like he’d rather have faced the snake any day, and shouted "What are you playing at?" Then he stormed out of the hall. This was followed by a general muttering and pointing, and everybody cleared a circle and started to back away from Harry. Ron grabbed both of us by the elbows and steered us out of there before anything worse could happen.

Harry didn’t even know what he’d done, Gwen! He didn’t realize he’d spoken a different language; to him it just sounded like he’d said, "Leave him alone!" But it was an evil hiss, I mean, even I thought he was egging it on or something. I’m sure Justin thought so. It’s really bad, because Salazar Slytherin was well known for being a Parselmouth- that’s why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent. And it’s a really rare power to have, and so now everybody’s going to think—

Yes. And he can’t disprove it. I mean, we know he’s not, but since he doesn’t know anything about his mum and dad’s heritage, and since Slytherin lived about a thousand years ago.... it would be almost impossible to say. It’s not good, Gwen. Not good at all.

Ow, my neck. It’s going to be permanently damaged after what Millicent did to it. I’ll probably be crooked for the rest of my life. One good thing, though- wrestling with me, Millicent rubbed some of her hairs off on my robe. I have one in a vial. I’m going to use it in my dose of the Polyjuice Potion- I’m going to Transfigure into Millicent Bulstrode. It’s a disgusting thought, but it’s only going to be for an hour.

Oh, Gwen, I hope Harry’s okay. Everybody’s so uptight about the Chamber of Secrets- they’re just looking for somebody to blame- what if they think he Petrified Colin and Mrs. Norris? I’m sure they’ll think so. He’s going to be in for a really rough time of it until we find the real Heir. If only he hadn’t gone and hissed like that in front of everybody.

Ugh, no. Half the school is up there trying to recover from bad charms. I don’t think the dueling club is going to last, Gwen. Too bad, think of all Professor Lockhart could have taught us!

Oh well. Goodnight.

December 17

Hang it! Gwen, am I never going to win a game of Wizard Chess? Ron can’t be perfect, I have to beat him some time. His chessmen are so used to mine that they have no mercy. His bishops wrestle my knights off their horses, his King and Queen won’t even speak to mine, and all my little pawns are scared to play because his ones like to thwack them in their heads whenever they’re taken. He needs to be beaten.

No you certainly needn’t. Ron reminds me all day long. "Didn’t hear you complaining when I saved your life. Admit it, I’m a genius." Honestly. Now he’s trying to get Ginny to play, but she’s just wringing her hands, looking out the window. I think she’s sick again, and no wonder! I saw her come in from the snow this morning, wet to the skin. There’s a bad blizzard out- what on earth was she doing? All the outdoor classes got cancelled. But maybe she forgot, and tried to go to Flying. It’s something I would do.

Harry’s gone off to find Justin and explain what he really said to the snake. He wanted to tell him in Herbology today, but Greenhouse classes got cancelled, too. He looked as fretful as Ginny all morning. I hope he finds Justin—and I really hope Justin will believe him.

This blizzard is beautiful, Gwen. I was going to go check on the Polyjuice Potion, but I think I’m going to curl up by the fire and read awhile instead. I got a new book of the month- "Magical Institutions: From Alpenstachen to Zarholla". It’s all about wizarding schools around the world, and it should be fascinating. See you.

Oh, it’s awful, it’s awful, it’s awful, it’s—

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly-Headless Nick were both found Petrified half an hour ago.

Harry was standing next to them, alone, when they were found.

Oh no- that is awful.

I told you! He got carted right off to somebody’s office, and rumors are just flying. Two Petrifications. Nearly-Headless Nick! How on earth can you Petrify somebody that’s already dead? And to think, I was about to go out by myself and check that potion. Oh, Gwen, Gwen, what’s going to happen? Why does Harry have such terrible timing? How did he come to be standing there—now everybody thinks he’s the Heir, and the people who didn’t think so last night are quickly changing sides. Even Gryffindors. Parvati just asked me if I’m afraid for my life. I said, "Why on earth would I be?" And she said, "Well, Harry’s- I mean, you know- he knows all about you!" And I said "No kidding. Don’t you think he’s had loads of opportunities to kill me, if he ever wanted to do it?" But she just shook her head like she’s already at my funeral. This is going to get really nasty. Ginny’s sobbing in the first years’ dormitory, and when I tried to help her she just choked, "No, no, don’t talk to me, don’t come near me!" I mean, that’s some crush she’s got. Harry’d better get back here quick and tell Ron and me just what is going on.

December 20

Hi, Gwen.

The whole school stampeded out of here this morning to go home for the holidays, and I won’t miss them. It’s sickening to see how everybody’s treating Harry- like he’s about to sprout fangs and Petrify them if they look at him sideways. At least the Weasleys and I don’t think he’s the Heir. Fred and George walk ahead of him in the hallways and say things like, "Move it, clear out, seriously evil wizard coming through!" It would be really funny—if it weren’t so awful. I keep telling people that he didn’t have anything to do with Nick and Justin, but no one listens. They keep telling me that I’m insane to stay here over the holidays and give Harry a chance to attack me. Why won’t they look at the facts?? Then they wouldn’t be in such a panic.

That Harry’s got a perfectly sound alibi. He was with Hagrid just seconds before he was found with the victims. You remember I said he went to look for Justin?

Well he didn’t find Justin, but in the library he overheard Ernie Macmillan and a whole bunch of other Hufflepuffs talking about what he did at the dueling club, and how he’s a Parselmouth. They think it means he’s a Dark wizard- they think that’s how he escaped Voldemort- they think that’s why Voldemort wanted to kill him in the first place, because he didn’t want another Dark wizard to compete with! Harry couldn’t stand to hear them go on, so he stepped forward and asked where Justin was. They wouldn’t say, they were all too terrified, and Ernie even went so far as to tell Harry not to get any ideas, because the Macmillans are pure-blood for generations.

Well, now, really.

Isn’t it idiotic? So of course Harry wanted to get away from them and come back to us. That’s when he ran into Hagrid, who was going to find Dumbledore. He had a dead rooster in his fist (well, why not, it’s Hagrid) and was trying to figure out what killed it- foxes or a Blood-Sucking Bugbear. He wanted to go up and get the Headmaster’s permission to put a magic barrier around the chicken coop. So Harry said, ‘bye then, and kept going ‘round the corner—which is when he found Justin and Nick, lying Petrified on the hall floor. It was nothing but incredibly unlucky timing. Hagrid vouched for him, but everybody’s too panicked to be logical. It’s a mess. At least Harry’s not in any trouble—Dumbledore believes him.

Yes. Professor McGonagall took Harry to Professor Dumbledore after he was found standing in the middle of that scene, and Dumbledore says he knows very well that Harry didn’t attack any of these people. Harry said if he hadn’t felt so nervous, he might have enjoyed the visit- he said the Headmaster’s office is really a sight, and Professor Dumbledore even has a Phoenix up there!

Yes, named Fawkes! Harry even got to see it burst into flames and rise up from the ashes! Professor Dumbledore told Harry that Phoenix tears heal wounds, and they also make extremely faithful pets. I wish I’d seen it! I’d love a faithful pet. Harry has Hedwig, Ron’s got Scabbers, even Neville has Trevor the toad. I need a pet. I probably won’t be able to get anything like a Phoenix, but maybe an owl? No, I can get an owl from the Owlery if I ever need one. I want a pet that fits me. I don’t know.

Anyway, Gwen, it’s just me, Harry and the Weasleys, together in Gryffindor for the whole break. I think that’ll be so much fun! (Except, of course, when we take the Polyjuice Potion. It’ll be ready Christmas Eve, or Christmas. What a merry holiday that’s going to be, walking around inside Millicent Bulstrode. Ew, ew, ew.)

Their parents are going to visit their brother Bill. He works for Gringotts, in Egypt. I’m glad they’re all here, they make me forget what a nightmare last term was. Fred and George are hysterical- they keep asking Harry who he’s going to attack next, and waving garlic at him. The only person who doesn’t think it’s funny is Ginny- she’s desperate about it, really. I wish she’d cheer up a little, I mean, how often do we get to play Exploding Snap as loud as we like? We can practice dueling, too. Maybe that’ll make Ginny feel better—I’ll teach her the Chicken Curse. Then, whenever Fred and George make her feel anxious, she can watch them walk around clucking and flapping their arms.

Percy’s just come in. He says it’s childish, the way we’re all behaving in here. He’s probably right, but for once, I don’t care. It’s fun.

December 25

Merry Christmas, Gwen!

Hmm! I’m intrigued! I wish I had something for you, though.

Thanks, Gwen. Want another one?

Good point. Well, the Polyjuice Potion is ready. We’re going to do it tonight. I have a plan all worked out. I’ve made two chocolate cakes filled with a Sleeping Draught. Harry and Ron need to make sure that Crabbe and Goyle eat them (and they’re sure to, the greedy pigs.) Once they’ve passed out, they should be locked in a broom closet, and Harry and Ron should steal their shoes and a few of their hairs. Then they’ll meet me in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, we’ll take the potion, go to Slytherin, and get Malfoy to talk.

I’m very excited to find out whatever we can. I think Harry and Ron are, too. We’re going to do it straight after supper- they’re going to try and catch Crabbe and Goyle on the way back to Slytherin from the Christmas Feast, and leave the cakes in their path. I can’t believe we’re doing this on Christmas. What a weird way to spend the holiday. It’s been very nice otherwise, though. We’re about to go down to the feast- I’m just putting my presents away, first.

I got the best thing! Remember that set of scales I saw in Diagon Alley- the Prioritizer? Well, Mum and Dad splurged and got me one! It’s going to be so helpful with scheduling, and making decisions about my studies and things- I’ll be so glad to have it when I’m choosing my classes for third year! I’m really pleased about it. Plus, my parents renewed my subscription to the Magical Text of the Month Club, and sent me nice thick socks and new gloves, and oh, Gwen! They sent a travel guide of France, and a French-English dictionary, and in the cover Dad had written, "Brush up for this summer!" We’re going to France!!!

I know, I’m practically spoiled rotten. I even exchanged gifts with my friends. Harry got me a luxury eagle feather quill, which is so funny, Gwen, because that’s exactly what I got for him. We seem to always get each other matching things. For Ron I almost got a book of Arachnid Studies-

I’m not that mean. I got a little map of the world, instead, and charmed it to show where his family all is. There’s a tiny blinking light in Egypt for Bill, one in Romania for Charlie, and one where his house is. And he got me a book called "Unexpected Witches", which is a collection of short biographies of Muggle-born girls that went on to have great magical careers. I thought that was really, really nice.

Oooh, and Gwen, I got a Christmas card from Professor Lockhart! He sent it along as the answer to the fan-mail letter I sent him and it says:

"To Miss Granger,

Yours truly,

He gave me a picture! I’m adding all this to my file.

Yes, of course, of the tests he’s marked and things.

Well, I guess I’d better go. They’re both hollering up here for me to hurry it up. "Hermione, come on, we’re starving." "Yeah, what’re you doing up there? You better not be reading that Lockhart card again, or I’ll shred it." Honestly. I need to remember my wand, and my vial- the extra robes are already in the bathroom- we’re going straight from the feast to Moaning Myrtle’s, so wish me luck, Gwen. Oh, I’m nervous. What if it doesn’t work? What if I made it wrong?

Thanks, Gwen. I’ll write you as soon as we’ve had our little chat with Malfoy.

Gwen, I ruined the potion and I look revolting and Madam Pomfrey says I’m going to be like this for a month! I’ll die of embarrassment if anyone else sees me.

I only wish. I put that hair in the Polyjuice Potion- the one I thought was Millicent’s- but it wasn’t. It was her cat’s hair. Now I look like an old, warped, ugly cat! And the potion’s not supposed to be used for animal transformations, so I’m stuck like this until probably February. I didn’t want anybody to see me, but Harry and Ron had to, because they’re the ones who dragged me up here to the hospital wing. Oh, it was humiliating. I could see by their faces that I look just frightful. I thought nothing could be as bad as Millicent Bulstrode, but this is a million times worse. I’m furry and whiskery and I have pointy ears and a tail. I’d laugh, but I just want to cry my yellow cat-eyes right out.

I didn’t. Harry and Ron had to go without me. The potion itself worked brilliantly- they got the hairs and transfigured without a hitch. But I couldn’t go with them. As soon as I drank my potion I knew something had gone wrong, and when I felt my furry face.... well, I knew going to Slytherin looking like that wouldn’t worm any confessions out of Malfoy, so I told Ron and Harry to go on. I didn’t check in the mirror until they had left.

I was never very pretty, Gwen, but I’m so ugly now that I scared myself. Moaning Myrtle started making fun of me, and I just pulled my robes up over my head and started sobbing. That’s how Harry and Ron found me. When I showed them how I look, Ron backed into the sink and almost fell down. I could have died. It took them a long time to get me out of the bathroom, and even then they had to guide me all the way up here to the hospital wing, because I wouldn’t take my robes off my face, so I couldn’t see where I was going.

How could I have been so stupid? All that planning, and I spoiled my potion. Plus, I’m a cat until February, and I just have to sit up here with the bed curtains pulled shut so no one will be able to see me and laugh at me. At least I have you. Ron and Harry promised to visit every night after dinner and bring my assignments, too. I’m going to miss a month of classes! I’m going to start crying again. Oh, Gwen, how could this have happened to me?

Of course he’s not. I knew he wasn’t. He’s an idiot. He told Harry and Ron flat out that he doesn’t even know who it is. Mr. Malfoy knows, but won’t tell him. I guess it would be suspicious if Draco knew too much, what with all these Petrifications going on. All he knows is that the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, it was fifty years ago. Fifty years ago- and a Muggle-born student actually died. Harry told me that Malfoy said, "I bet it’s only a matter of time before one of them’s killed this time. I hope it’s Granger."

I know. And Ron said, "Harry, are you crazy- don’t tell her that!" But I wanted to know. I knew anyway. Harry also told me that when Malfoy said it, Ron almost punched him in the mouth and gave away the whole plan. That made me feel.... funny. Glad. Better. Do you know what I mean?

No. But it wasn’t a totally useless trip for Ron— now he can help his dad get back at Mr. Malfoy for all the horrible things he said. Draco let it slip that his rotten dad keeps all their illegal possessions under a trapdoor in their drawing-room floor. Now Mr. Weasley can uncover all of it, and his office at the Ministry can fine the Malfoys loads of galleons!

Definitely.

No, I—well actually it’s rather funny. Remember last year, when I refused to drink the Unimaginable Draught unless Madam Pomfrey let me have you?

Well, when I was settled in bed up here today, Madam Pomfrey brought over my De-Felinious Draught (that’s my medicine to stop me being a cat) and said, "Drink up, Miss Granger." But I just looked at her, crossed my arms and said, "I won’t drink it, unless...." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oh yes, that’s right. You’re the little businesswoman about these things." Then she rolled up her sleeves and took out her wand and said, "Accio, Hermione Granger’s diary!" She remembered! As soon as I had drained the last disgusting drop of potion, she handed you over. Blech. I have to drink it every night and it tastes like cat food. If I ever have a cat, I’m giving it real food. That stuff is torture.

How am I going to sleep? If I lie on my back, my tail gets in the way, and if I lie on my side, my face-fur itches. This is so stupid. I hate this.

Are you kidding? If Snape knew, I’d be expelled. But I suppose it was rather clever.... Gwen, I’m going to try and sleep. It’s so odd- I can only get comfortable if I curl up like a kitten. I’ll certainly understand cats a lot better after this experience.

Good morning, Gwen! Happy New Year!

Most of my face-fur is already gone! I still have the ears, the tail, and the yellow eyes, but the hair was what made me look so dreadful, so I feel much better. Madam Pomfrey says the ears take the longest- my normal ones have to completely re-grow, and for now I’ve only got little pointy cat ones poking out of my hair. Harry and Ron say that I look cool like this. They think I should keep the ears and the yellow eyes. I mean, really, Gwen. They’re so weird.

I am. And Ron and Harry are spending most of their time up here with me until term starts on Monday, so I’m not too bored. Although every time they come in, Ron scratches on the bed curtains and says, "Here, kitty, kitty!" until I open them up. It’s not funny.

Gwen. Also, I’ve been reading my book Ron gave me, "Unexpected Witches", and guess who’s in there? Lily Potter. That’s Harry’s mum! She was Muggle-born, and the book says that she was one of the strongest witches to fight against the Dark Forces, although she was "struck down tragically alongside her husband James. The murder of the Potters constituted the final act of the Dark Lord Voldemort; Lily herself died in a courageous attempt to protect her infant son, Harry. Indeed, her son still lives, and there is reason to believe that Lily Potter’s sacrifice has a great deal to do not only with his survival, but with the ultimate downfall of the Dark Lord himself." There’s a picture of her, too. She’s got dark red hair and she’s very pretty. I thought about showing Harry.

But it’s so sad, won’t it just hurt him?

Well, I will. Next time he comes up. Actually, I just heard the door open, so maybe he—no, it’s Ron. He’s scratching on my curtains and meowing.

Well, I guess it sort of is.... oh, good, he’s brought our chess sets! He says, "I’ll let you win today, as I’m feeling sorry for you." Not on your life, Ron Weasley; Ill beat you fair and square. He’s telling me to quit writing.

‘Bye.

January 3

Term starts tomorrow. Harry’s out practicing his flying and Ron’s helping Ginny with hers. I can see them out the window and I’m so bored in here that it’s killing me.

Oh! I had completely forgotten! Yes, Gwen, yes, I’d love my Christmas present.

Pardon?

You mean you’re going to tell me about it.

No, I’m going to show it. I’m going to bring you inside it.

Inside... but Gwen, how is that possible?

I will??

Would I like to.... are you mad??? Gwen, this is amazing! I want to try it, are you ready? Can I turn the page?

I’m going to get to see you! To see Lancelot! To see Camelot! And you said you’d never let anybody read your diary – oh, I feel so privileged – can’t I turn the page yet Gwen? – please, please—

Oh, Gwen. Guinevere.

Like it....? It was..... unreal. I could have stayed there forever. Now I know what I would have seen in the Mirror of Erised. I would have seen myself a princess, in Camelot.

It was right out of a fairytale! That part of the legend was perfectly true, at least. And the sky really was amazingly blue, and I swear, walking down the river, there was an island with a fortress – it had "four gray walls and four gray towers" – that wasn’t really Shalott?

Was there really a Lady?

I didn’t see her in the tower.

Oh, Gwen. Lancelot.

He was.... He was....

I mean, the closest I’ve ever seen in real life is—but even he doesn’t compare now that I--- goodness. But it didn’t seem to me that he was only handsome – he had a sort of... a sort of look on his face. Like he’d seen everything, and been back again. I can’t describe it.

And the way he looked at you – oh! And you, Gwen, you!! You were simply... how could you be so... perfect? You were beautiful.

How old were you in that memory?

What did you look like when you were twelve?

Really?

I can’t imagine that. I wish I were twenty-seven. But Gwen, that memory was absolutely glorious. I’ve never seen an autumn like that in my life. I can’t believe it was really real, and that I was actually there— walking by the river in Camelot! I can’t believe you showed me that. I’m so honored. I’ll dream about it forever.

Gwen, it’s the best Christmas present anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, thank you a million times. I’ll never forget it.

Do you mind if I shut you and... think about all this?

January 8

Hi, Gwen. My tail’s almost gone.

Yes, it is. I’m starting to be able to sleep normally again. I wish I could open my bed curtains up, but everyone’s back in school, and they keep filing by to see what I look like. Parvati came to see me when she got back from holiday, and she said she thought I’d been Petrified. There are apparently all sorts of rumors that Harry attacked me over Christmas break. I said, "Oh, no, Parvati. Harry tried to Petrify me, but messed it up, and turned me into a cat instead." She thought I was serious. It took me an hour to convince her it was just a joke. I gave her the same explanation I’ve given Madam Pomfrey, because obviously I can’t admit to anyone about the Polyjuice Potion. I said that we were practicing dueling in the common room, and we just got a bit out of hand with curses we couldn’t handle.

It’s worked so far. I don’t think Madam Pomfrey really believes me, but luckily she’s not asking any questions.

Harry and Ron just left. They brought me my schoolwork for today—it’s so hard to keep up without having the in-class demonstrations. It always helps me so much to be able to see how Professor Flitwick uses his wand, in Charms. And there are certain things in these Transfiguration lessons that are almost impossible to understand without asking Professor McGonagall a few questions. I’m totally dependent on Harry and Ron to teach me some of what we’re learning, which is a really strange position for me to be in, considering that I’m usually the one translating lessons for them.

On the one hand, I think it’s a really good thing, because when they explain the assignments to me, they’re studying without realizing it. They’re also taking much closer notes, because I told them to take the kind I always do, because I’d go crazy at exam time without really good notes. I guess they’re scared of what that would be like, because these notes are really good. Ron writes notes within the notes sometimes, like "In 1673, the last descendants of Circe’s Coven were burnt at the stake, as if I care." Or, "The Reverse Curse: a curse which causes the victim to do everything backward for varying lengths of time. The longest reported reversal lasted two hundred and thirteen days. Hermione, remind me, you have to teach me this one. I want to do it to Percy and have it last a year." It makes me laugh. So that’s the good part about all this.

Is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron flatly refuses to take notes in that class, and every time Harry hands over the ones he’s done, I am forced to sit through Ron’s impression of the lesson. He imitates Professor Lockhart in a high voice, and minces all around, twirling his hands and saying things like, "Oh, excuse me class, but we won’t be able to continue fighting Vampires today, as I’ve just mussed up my hair." It’s obnoxious.

I can’t really complain, though. They’re the best friends, really, and I’d never get through all this without them. Or you. I still can’t get over Camelot.

Goodnight, Gwen.

Gwen? It’s creepy in here. It’s dark.

Three in the morning. I woke up out of a nightmare. I was dreaming that I was in the middle of the Quidditch field, and there was a monster coming toward me, but I couldn’t see what it looked like, and I couldn’t move my legs. I could hear all of Slytherin cheering in the stands, and Malfoy was standing behind me shouting "Get the Mudblood! Get the Mudblood!"

I’m very shaky. I got some water already, and then made the mistake of looking in on Colin Creevey when I was on my way back to bed. He’s still up here, you know. Petrified. So are Justin, and Nick, and Mrs. Norris. I try not to think about it, but that nightmare just reminded me, so I stupidly opened Colin’s bed curtains. He’s so still. His eyes are wide open. He looks dead, Gwen.

Now I’m all scared. I feel like I’m up here in this room alone with a bunch of dead people. I wish Ron and Harry were here. I wish I were in Gryffindor. But my ears and eyes are still cat-like, and Madam Pomfrey says I can’t go back to my dormitory until I’m completely recovered. But oh, it’s horrid to have to stay here tonight.

I tried. I just get nervous and can’t sleep.

Yes. Lavender brought it up for me the other day.

Okay, hold on—oh, that is nice. Thanks, Gwen. That helps. Goodnight.

January 18

Professor Lockhart misses me! He sent me a get well card. Parvati brought it up this afternoon, and he told her to tell me that he misses having me in class! She looked like she wished she were up here getting cards too. It’s gold, and it wishes me a speedy recovery from my "concerned" teacher!! I’m putting it under my pillow.

Oh, not because I want to sleep with it under there, or anything. I just want to hide it, you know--

No, really! Oh, all right. After all, this is my diary. Gwen, I—I have a confession. But this is really secret. And don’t laugh.

I think I sort of might, maybe, just a little, well—like Professor Lockhart.

Yes. And I’m mad at myself for it, Gwen. I mean, I know I stick up for him all the time, but I’m not stupid. He de-boned Harry’s arm, for heaven’s sake.

But it wasn’t. And I never thought I could be such a girl about anybody. It’s so strange, because other than being handsome, Professor Lockhart doesn’t have any of the things I really like about people.

Well, I would like a person to be clever and funny and interesting and.... brave. I don’t think he’s any of those things. Except maybe he’s brave, I don’t know—I just can’t believe he’d really lie about all those things he did in his books.

Yes. Anyway, this is one of the first things I really haven’t been able to tell Harry and Ron. They’d just lord it over me if I admitted they’d been right about Professor Lockhart, and they’d tease me. I don’t need to be as obvious as Ginny is about everything.

I don’t know. She was peering in here the other day, and I waved at her, so she opened the door, but stayed outside it, like she was hesitating, or scared. I told her to come in, but she shook her head, and said, "Hermione, I have to... I have to..." She looked like she was trying to work up the nerve to tell me something. I thought maybe she wanted to talk to someone about Harry. But right as she was about to say whatever it was, Madam Pomfrey came up and told her that she needed to come in or go out- she couldn’t just stand there letting all the germs into the infirmary- so Ginny fled. She’s a funny girl.

I’ve been leaving my bed curtains open most of the time, so I can wave at my friends in the halls. I don’t mind being seen now that my normal ears are coming back and my cat ones have shrunk so that my hair hides them. My tail’s completely gone now, too, and my eyes are almost brownish again. But all that didn’t stop the Weasley twins from sending up a cat-nip toy for me to play with. Ha, ha, ha. Actually, I did laugh. They’re nice, even if they’re crazy. They’ve always been nice to me, ever since Malfoy called me "Mudblood" on the Quidditch field that time.

Malfoy actually came by the infirmary a few days ago. I heard him coming from down the hall, saying, "Let’s see if she’s dead yet." He made a blow-fish face on the window with his mouth and then he and Crabbe and Goyle started laughing at me and screeching like alley cats. I yanked the curtains shut. I hate him. I was going to tell Harry and Ron about it, but decided against that, too. I don’t want Ron going off and trying to curse him again, and getting another belly full of slugs.

This month has gone so slowly, and time at Hogwarts usually flies! I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m going to read myself to sleep tonight. I got my January book of the month- "Atlantis: Then and Now". It’s all about merpeople! They’re real!

Oh, Gwen. Goodnight.

January 30

Madam Pomfrey says I can go back to class on Monday! Just three more nights in here, and I can sleep in my real bed again. I can’t wait to get outside and play, and study in the Gryffindor common room by the fire, and just be out of this hospital wing!!! I hope I never spend this much time here again. It’s enough to drive a person insane. At least the Petrified people don’t feel the time passing.

Except for the tiniest fraction of my ears, yes, I’m myself again. Cat-free! Harry and Ron came up to give me the last of this week’s assignments. I’m going to finish up my work over the weekend so I’ll be ready to jump right into classes on Monday. Ron says if he turned into a cat, he’d take a break from all the schoolwork. But I’m awfully glad I kept up, because I hate to be behind—and anyway, Ron and I don’t see eye to eye on certain issues.

Well, studying, for one. And personal privacy, for another. Gwen, he saw Professor Lockhart’s card sticking out from under my pillow.

He has no feelings at all sometimes, I swear. He yanked it out and read it out loud and said, "You sleep with this under your pillow?" in the same voice you might use to say, "You ate a pail of toad guts?’ He let out this breath of disgust, and I was livid. How dare he read that card?! I was about to shout at him, but Madam Pomfrey came over with my De-Felinious Draught and shooed the boys out, so I didn’t have to explain myself. He is SO NOSY and SO RUDE. And as he and Harry were leaving the infirmary, I heard him say, "Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you’ve ever met, or what?" Professor Lockhart might not be bright, but I don’t see how that makes him smarmy. Ron has problems, Gwen, don’t you think so?

What do you mean?

Oh, that’s so unfair!

Hmph.

February 2

Gwen, Gwen, this is really important. You have to help me decide what to do.

Yes, I’m fine, I’m so glad to be back, and going to classes again was a dream come true, but I have to tell you something right now and you have to give me advice because it’s serious.

Over the weekend, Harry and Ron heard Myrtle crying in the bathroom and flooding it, and they went in to find out why. She was all upset and offended because somebody had tried to flush their diary down the toilet, and it had fallen through her head (she was down there in the pipes.) So Harry kept the diary. It says "T.M. Riddle" on the front, and Ron figured out that T.M. Riddle won an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago! What if the diary has information about that? But Gwen, the diary doesn’t have any information at all- it’s completely blank on the inside.

Exactly. When Harry showed me tonight, my first thought was that it might have secret powers, just like you do. I tapped it with my wand and said, "Aparecium!" Nothing. I took out my Revealer (it’s a kind of magic eraser thing I got in Diagon Alley) and rubbed on January 1^st. Nothing. But knowing about diaries like you, I just got more and more excited! I was just about to suggest that we try writing in it, and see if it would write back!

Just as I was about to suggest it, something clicked in my head. "T.M. Riddle"? "T" might be "Tom". I looked at the diary again. Gwen, I think- I’m almost sure- it’s Ginny Weasley’s. It looks like the one she used to write in- small and black- and its being blank just means that I was right about its being enchanted. Tom Riddle must be the brain that’s inside it. But Gwen, who is Tom Riddle?

Maybe somebody took it from her, and tried to flush it.

Nobody. Not even Fred and George. She must have. Maybe she wrote in there about Harry and didn’t want anybody to ever find it.... but no, that doesn’t make sense, because if Tom’s really enchanted, then her secrets would be protected, wouldn’t they?

How awful. I’m so torn, Gwen! It’s so important that we find out everything we can about the Chamber of Secrets, so I should tell Harry to write in it right away, in case Tom has any information about what happened here at Hogwarts fifty years ago. He must- he was here- he won that award. But on the other hand....

Gwen, how can I tell Harry how to work the diary, when I don’t know if Ginny’s secrets are protected? She doesn’t deserve to have her personal, private thoughts read by a boy—especially the boy she likes. I’d die a million times if anybody ever read you. I know that stopping the monster of Slytherin from attacking Muggle-borns should be more important, but imagine how Ginny would feel if Harry were to read—I just can’t do it, Gwen. I know this is the wrong decision. But I just can’t do it.

Told her what? "Ginny, Harry’s got your secret diary. We’d love to have a peek- are you using a password?"

Gwen! Those two? They haven’t got any proper feeling about things like this. You saw how Ron was with the card under my pillow- he thinks he’s entitled to anything he wants to know- and Ginny’s his little sister, so he wouldn’t be scared to mortify her. He’d march right over and make her tell us everything. And in a way, he’d be right, I mean, it’s much more dire for us to get information about the Chamber of Secrets than it is for me to protect Ginny Weasley from getting humiliated in front of Harry. But if it were the other way around, Gwen, I’d want her to cover for me. I’d feel like a traitor if I told.

I suppose—well—just promise me you’ll watch her closely, Hermione. Don’t decide anything for sure. If anything further happens, you may have to say something.

I know. I know. My one hope is that it isn’t Ginny’s diary- that I’ve got it wrong. There are lots of small, black diaries in the world, aren’t there? She wasn't writing tonight, though, and she always does. But before I decide what to do, I need to find out for sure if it’s hers.

I don’t know. Oh, I’m tired, Gwen. I think I need to sleep on this one. If I can sleep. Goodnight.

February 3

Hi, Gwen. I still don’t know what to do about the diary. I feel so horribly guilty for not saying anything. Harry and Ron are trying so hard to figure out the mystery—well, at least, Harry’s trying. Ron just thinks that "Riddle got a diary for Christmas, and couldn’t be bothered filling it in." I tried to tell him that normal people don’t behave that way, they fill their diaries in, but he just waved me off and said, "Go on, diaries are for girls, anyway." Well, guess what he’s getting next Christmas.

Gwen.

I doubt it. He’d tell us. He’s not finding out much of anything. He’s gone down to the trophy room to look at that award Riddle won for special services to Hogwarts. We also found his name up on a Medal for Magical Merit, and an old list of Head Boys. He was obviously an excellent student! Ron said, "He sounds like Percy. Prefect, Head Boy, probably top of every class." He said it like it was a bad thing. Is that how he and Harry talk about me? I’m top of the class. Gwen, what is wrong with being clever and doing well?

Oh, of COURSE.

Of course. Here’s Ron, wanting help with our Charms assignment. It doesn’t bother him that I’m top of the class now. "What’re you writing, Hermione-- listen, d’you have a minute? I don’t get this Rotating Spell thing."

Ho Nest Ly.

February 10

Hi, Gwen! How are you?

Sort of. There hasn’t been an attack in almost two whole months, and I’m starting to think the monster is hibernating for another fifty years, or something. In any case, it’s cheered up a bit around here- even the weather is brightening up a little. Some people are actually talking to Harry again, too, which makes me feel better about not saying anything about the diary. Maybe I don’t really need to worry about it. Oh, I hope not.

Professor Lockhart seems to think that he’s the one who made the monster disappear. We were lining up for Transfiguration and we all heard him say to Professor McGonagall that he thinks the trouble with the Chamber is all over, that "the culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

Ron turned and looked at me in line as if to say, "How can you be so stupid as to defend that lousy git?" Professor McGonagall was looking at Professor Lockhart in a way that seemed to say that if magic weren’t expressly forbidden in the halls, she might have to curse him right there on the spot.

I felt so embarrassed for him. I mean, Gwen, of all the silly things to say. But then he kind of made up for it, saying "What this school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won’t say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing." And we really could use a morale-booster, so at least he knows something.

Thanks, Gwen. All right. Back to Potions homework. See you soon.

February 14

Hi, Gwen, I’m just on morning break and I only have a minute. Professor Lockhart’s morale-booster turned out to be a Valentine’s Day celebration! This morning, he had the Great Hall all covered with pink flowers, and he got these dwarves to carry harps and wear gold wings and deliver singing valentines all day!

He got dwarves to do that? He may have powers after all.

Well, the dwarves don’t look too happy about it- they’re rather surly, actually. But it is funny to have them burst into class and sing. It’s sort of a meaningless holiday, but at least Professor Lockhart makes it entertaining. There was confetti at breakfast, and he announced his thanks to the forty-six people who sent him cards. I wish he hadn’t, though, because Ron started pestering me, "Please, Hermione, tell me you weren’t one of the forty-six."

Professor Lockhart sent me a picture, and a Christmas card, and a get well card, plus he’s my teacher, so I see no reason why I—

Maybe I was, but I didn’t answer Ron- I just started digging around in my bag for my schedule. It’s none of his business if I sent a card or if I didn’t. He glared at me, and glared at Professor Lockhart, and rolled his eyes, and mumbled something that sounded like "I don’t believe this." But let him be upset about it. I already decided about Professor Lockhart. I think he’s handsome, and I can’t help it. But that’s all I think. I’m not going to be sending him anymore fan mail, or cards or anything, after this.

Oh, class in two minutes, Gwen. Talk to you later!

The diary is definitely Ginny’s. T.M. Riddle is Tom. And it’s enchanted. I’ll bet anything that’s why Harry went to bed early- he’s upstairs figuring it out right now.

One of those singing dwarves came for Harry when we were waiting to go into Charms. Everybody was in the corridor: our Gryffindor class, the first years, Percy, and even Malfoy was walking by. Harry tried to avoid the dwarf. He looked seriously embarrassed about getting a valentine right there in front of everyone. But the dwarf was determined to deliver it, so they ended up wrestling there in the hall, fighting so hard Harry’s school bag split open and everything spilled. In the end, the dwarf yanked him to the ground, sat on his ankles, and sang this song—I couldn’t forget a word of it if I tried:

"His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

Well, Harry looked like he’d die. The laughter was unstoppable, Gwen, nobody could help it- even I had to chomp down hard on my lip to keep from joining in, and Ron looked like he’d suffocate if he didn’t let loose. But then Malfoy stepped up, grabbed something out of Harry’s things on the ground, and held it up—suddenly I didn’t feel like laughing.

It was the diary. Malfoy looked extremely pleased to have discovered something secret of Harry’s, and made a show of examining it, acting like he’d go ahead and read it right there. Harry said, "Give that back." Malfoy said, "When I’ve had a look." And that’s when I happened to look over at Ginny.

Oh, it’s definitely her diary. She was practically fainting. She just stared at the diary, stared at Harry, stared at Malfoy. It must have been a nightmare for her. Poor thing- she must be terrified Harry had read it- after all, he had it in his bag. And now, Malfoy was getting ready to open it in front of everybody. Enchanted or not, I was really upset for her.

Just then, Harry pointed his wand and yelled "Expelliarmus!" and Malfoy was disarmed of the diary. Ron caught it, the door opened to Charms, and we quickly filed inside- but not before Malfoy shouted at Ginny, "I don’t think Potter liked your valentine much!" Ginny covered her face with her hands and bolted into her classroom. Obviously, she did send the valentine. She’s brave, I think, to do that. Malfoy doesn’t know what bravery is, the stupid Slytherin- how dare he embarrass her in front of everyone? Ron pulled out his wand at Malfoy (and I almost did, too) but Harry held him back.

We went into class. I felt very edgy- about Ginny, Harry, the diary, Malfoy- and I knew even less than before what to do about it. And that’s when Harry noticed something. When his bag had spilled, an ink bottle had smashed all over his other books- they were splattered and soaked with red ink. But the diary was perfectly clean. Every single page, and even the spine. Like it had either repelled the ink, or just sucked it right in,

So Tom’s enchanted.

What do I do? Ever since he noticed what happened with the ink, Harry seems really close to figuring everything out. What if he tries writing in there, just to test what happens, and all of Ginny’s private thoughts--- Gwen, wait a minute. You said with that type of charm, the entries don’t stay above the page?

Then.... then Harry wouldn’t see what Ginny had written?

Then I think.... I think I have to risk telling Harry. Tomorrow, I’ll tell him to try writing in the diary, if he hasn’t already got it figured out by then. There’s a good enough chance that Ginny’s entries are hidden. And Gwen, I’ve been thinking- maybe there haven’t been any attacks lately, but even so, we really shouldn’t just sit around and wait for the next one. I should do something about it if I can.

Me, too. I’ll tell Harry at breakfast. For now, though, I’m going to sleep. It’s past eleven already, and I’m exhausted. Goodnight.

I will.

February 15

Ugh, what time is it? It’s... it’s four in the morning. I think I’m going to pass out. I have a ton to tell you, but don’t blame me please if I don’t make any sense. Ron and Harry came up and fetched me out of bed at one-thirty. Harry clapped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream, and Ron grabbed my wrists. I felt like I was being kidnapped. They’re lucky Parvati and Lavender didn’t wake up and throw a fit- boys can’t come in here.

It was. It is. Harry figured out how to work the diary- he wrote in it and it wrote back, and it even took Harry inside of a memory, just like you took me to Camelot! Tom Riddle is real- the T. is for Tom and the M. is for Marvolo and he went to Hogwarts fifty years ago, and Gwen, he caught the person who was letting the monster out of the Chamber of Secrets, and it’s horrible, you won’t believe who did it, Gwen, it’s—

How can I?

I- I don’t know very much. Harry only saw one memory. That’s all he could explain to us.

Okay. The diary is Tom Riddle’s sixteen year old self, when he was here at Hogwarts, during the last Heir of Slytherin scare. In the memory Harry saw, Tom was visiting the old headmaster, Armando Dippet. He was trying to get permission to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, because he didn’t want to go back to the Muggle orphanage where he lived. His mum died when he was born, and he didn’t have any family to go back to. But Dippet wouldn’t give him permission to stay at Hogwarts, because of the Chamber of Secrets and all the attacks. A Muggle-born girl had just been killed, and since Tom was only half-blood (his dad was a Muggle) he was in danger, too. Because of the killing, Hogwarts was about to close down entirely. That’s really all we know about Tom Riddle and his situation.

No. After Professor Dippet told him he’d have to go back to the orphanage, Tom left the office and started off through the castle. On his way he met a fifty year younger Dumbledore, already teaching here! Professor Dumbledore told Tom to hurry off to bed, saying it was unsafe to be in the halls alone with the monster on the loose, especially with the murder of that girl.

But Tom didn’t go back to his dormitory. He went down into the dungeons, and listened for something. When he heard it, he followed the noise into a dark room where a huge student was trying to pull an animal of some kind out of a door in the wall. Tom said, "Evening, Rubeus," and the student turned around, slamming the door on the creature.

Gwen, it was Hagrid. Fifty years younger, when he was a student here. And the thing in the wall-

We don’t think Hagrid would ever hurt anyone on purpose, but Gwen, you have to admit, his taste in pets does run to dangerous creatures. Dragons, three-headed dogs—Hagrid thinks monsters are adorable and interesting. I’ll bet if he found out about a monster of Slytherin when he was a student here, he’d go out of his way to make friends with it, that’s just how he is. But I don’t think he’s the Heir. He couldn’t be. I won’t believe it.

Anyway, Tom told Hagrid to turn over the monster in the wall. He said that giving it over to be killed was the least they could do for the dead girl’s parents, and for the protection of the other students in the school. But Hagrid refused to admit that the creature he was guarding had anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets or the death, and he wouldn’t let Tom get near it. So finally, Tom had to open the door in the wall by force of magic.

The door flew open, and the creature appeared- Harry said he screamed right out when it did, and when he told us, I thought Ron might scream, too. He told us it was a giant, clicking, scuttling, spider-like creature, with huge black pincers and a low-slung, hairy body. He said it catapulted out of the wall, climbed right over Tom Riddle, and hurtled down the hallway. Tom pulled out his wand to stun it- maybe kill it- when Hagrid came from behind and knocked him to the floor, making it possible for the monster to get away.

That’s when Harry came out of the memory. Ron went up to bed and found him lying with the diary open on his stomach, white and shaking and sweating. He told Ron everything. Then, in a panic, they came up here and dragged me down to the common room. I could hardly understand what was happening, and then Harry said, "Hagrid did it, Hermione, it was Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago." And Ron said, "We knew he’d been expelled, right? This is why." But we still had a million questions.

Well it was definitely some kind of monster, but yes, I know what you mean, those are exactly the same questions we kept asking—but there are no answers. Only one thing makes sense to me now. No wonder Ginny tried to flush that diary away, and no wonder she’s been in such a state. As soon as Harry opened it, Tom tried to warn him about the Chamber of Secrets- about what could happen. I’ll bet Tom tried to show Ginny as well, and it scared her half to death. That’s probably what she was trying to tell me in the hospital wing that day. What do you think?

But we don’t want to give away Hagrid- what if Dumbledore is the only person here who knows why he was expelled? I want to keep it that way. I don’t want Hagrid permanently taken out of Hogwarts- I know he’s not the Heir.

Like Ron said, "That’d be a cheerful visit. Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?" He’s not likely to tell us if he has, and if he hasn’t, we’ll just be hurting his feelings terribly by asking. He was expelled over this in his third year- he almost lost all his magical privileges- he’s lucky he got to stay here at all. Tom turned him in when the monster got away- probably just so he wouldn’t have to go back to the Muggle orphanage. Oh, even if there was a monster, how could anyone turn Hagrid in? But someone had died, Gwen. Tom had to do it. But poor Hagrid. How can we possibly bring that up?

I don’t know. I tried asking the Prioritizer which is the best choice, but the scales just tipped back and forth, clinking on their bases. I checked the handbook, and it says it’s not meant to handle moral dilemmas. All we could decide is, we’re not going to Hagrid’s unless something else happens. Harry hasn’t heard that floating voice for a long time, there haven’t been any attacks since December, and I’m just hoping it stays that way.

Not that I know of. Harry didn’t mention anything about it—I wish I could ask, but then I’d just be giving Ginny away. I thought about taking the diary myself and checking through it- I don’t feel like it would be half as bad if I read it, as opposed to Harry. I’d see what I could find out and then slip it back into Ginny’s room for her. But Harry won’t let go of it. He says he’s hanging onto it for awhile- I think he thinks if he gives it to me, I’ll run it right to a teacher.

Yes, but we don’t want Hagrid in trouble for these attacks, Gwen. We’ll just wait and see what happens, and if there’s trouble, we’ll go talk to Hagrid.

I can’t tell you how worried this makes me. I don’t trust this. We don’t know how Tom is operating that diary, and perhaps I’m superstitious, but that’s not a good thing, Hermione.

I believe you. I’m nervous, too, but for now do you mind if I just go to sleep? As it is, I’ll sleep through half the weekend- it’s five in the morning.

Sure.

I will, Gwen. Goodnight.

February 22

Hi, Gwen, just checking in. Don’t want you to be worried about me.

Well I was. Where have you been this week?

Making up for lost time in class. It’s unbelievable how much the teachers pile on us before Easter holidays. It’s already starting, and it’s not even March. Soon, it’ll be time for me to draw up my exam study schedule.

I am, that is, if you call getting a 93% on a Potions essay all right, which I do not. And Snape won’t let me do any extra credit. He said, "There are no second chances in my class, Miss Granger, whatever you may be used to with your pet student status." He’s such a beast. That essay was perfect.

I have to go. I’m writing a defense of my essay, and I’ll turn it in to him tomorrow. He can’t stop me from doing extra credit. ‘Bye, Gwen.

Sorry, Gwen, sorry it’s been—

I will. But I am all right. Nothing’s happened. Except for the fact that Ginny flies off whenever Harry comes anywhere near her, everything’s perfectly normal.

No. Harry’s got him up in the bottom of his trunk. He says he’s not risking losing the diary in case we need it to prove something. We’ve gone ‘round in circles with it over and over, and it’s driving us all a bit mad. Ron says he’s not too sure about Riddle- why’d he have to go and turn in Hagrid like that? I say it’s what he should have done, since there was a murder. Harry says he understands why Riddle would do anything to avoid going back to live in a Muggle orphanage- he says if Hogwarts shut down now and he had to go back full-time with the Dursleys, he’d throw himself off the Astronomy tower. It’s all very difficult.

One good thing, though—the Mandrakes are coming along nicely, so at least the Petrified people will be able to wake up eventually. I wonder what it would feel like, to lose time like that? I mean, Colin’s been Petrified since November. That’s forever. He’ll wake up, and have lost an entire school year. I wonder if he’ll even get to move on to second year? How will he ever manage his exams? And poor Justin, that was just a month later. If I woke up at exam time like that, I’d probably ask somebody to Petrify me again.

Er- not at the moment. We’re all trying to do our Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment. I was just taking a little break to write to you. We’ve got to compose an Ode to Professor Lockhart’s Single-handed Slaying of the Snaggletoothed Hag of Santiago.

Yes. But at least we’re allowed to work with a partner. I’m with Neville, and Harry and Ron are doing theirs together. Wait a minute, they’re going to read me what they’ve got so far—

Gwen, Gwen, I can’t breathe for trying not to laugh- how could they, though- they can’t turn it in! It’s so rude! And it’s supposed to be three stanzas, but they’ve only done two, and they said they’re not wasting anymore time on this rot.

"Oh he put on his bright pink robes

And he curled up his yellow hair

And he ran about with his wand

As if we really care

He says he killed some old hag

And we guess it could be true

If Lockhart came after us

We’d choke to death laughing, too."

They said they won’t change a single word of it, so "stop nagging, you know-it-all, you’re not the only one who can write a poem." I can’t believe they’re actually going to turn that in. But.... I’m sort of glad that they are. Anyway, Neville and I still have to write ours, so I have to go—oh, Ron’s telling me to please go in another room and write mine, he doesn’t want to know about it, it’ll make him sick—we’ll he’s making me sick-- hold on—

Gwen, that’s weird. All I said was, "Ron, why do you care so much what I think of Professor Lockhart, anyway?"

Nothing. Well, he muttered something, but I couldn’t hear it, and then he shoved his books off his lap and went upstairs. I don’t get it. Harry doesn’t seem to get it, either, he’s just raising his eyebrows at me. Do you, Gwen?

So you don’t get it, either. Well, now I really have to go. Neville’s started writing it without me, and that’s not going to do. ‘Bye.

March 12

Hi. I’m all right.

That’s really all I have time for, Gwen. I feel so rude, but I have about a thousand feet of parchment to write for every single class, plus this is the first week I’ve started to follow my study schedule. This evening I’ve got a Herbology Notes Session and by Friday I have to have the Severing Charm perfect so that I can move on to all the other ones I have to polish before exams.

Okay. See you soon.

March 17

We’re finally on holiday.

Choosing my classes for third year! It’s horribly exciting. I can’t believe what amazing choices there are. We can add two classes on top of our regular course load. The trouble is, I need to add five.

It was six, but I decided to drop Spellish I. It’s very useful, of course, but it was such an easy class that I feel I could study it on my own and do just as well. It’s down to Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. How am I supposed to choose?

I did. It came up with Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy. I guess that’s true, I mean, since I’m Muggle-born I guess I don’t really need Muggle Studies- but it would be so fascinating to study my old way of life from the magical perspective! How can I give that one up? And Divination- Percy Weasley says it’s never too early to think about the future. I don’t know if I really believe in all that, but it would certainly be fun to learn about methods of fortune-telling. And Ancient Runes- well what if one day I really need to know about them? I want to take everything.

To make it worse, Muggle Studies and Divination are at the same time, and they sometimes overlap with Arithmancy, which overlaps with Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes is in the same hour as Charms. How could I get to all those classes at once? I would if I could. There has to be some way to make an exception- I’m sure if I just talked to Professor McGonagall, she would—yes, that’s what I have to do. I’ll show her my lists, and how I’ve gone about working with the Prioritizer, and the way I’ve reasoned everything out, and she’ll see that I need to take all these classes. I’m going to talk to her right now.

March 23

Happy Easter!

Yes, I did. Sort of. Well, I didn’t actually have to decide. Professor McGonagall says she knows a way I might be able to take every class I want. She can’t tell me anything yet- it’s got to be approved first at the Ministry of Magic. But she did say that, as I’m a model student and everything, she’s almost positive we can work something out.

I hope so! Oh, Ron’s mum is so nice. She remembered to send me and Harry chocolate eggs again. I’ll write her a thank you note tonight. Yum. Gryffindor is so much fun today. Everyone’s back from Quidditch practice, and we’ve just finished playing a ‘round of Questions, and now it’s so cozy with the rain and the fire.... I almost wish we didn’t have to start class again tomorrow. That’s not like me.

Oh, a Muggle game that Dean Thomas was trying to describe to Katie Bell. He leaned it from a friend’s older brother, who’s in a Muggle university. Everybody writes down a handful of questions on strips of paper and throws them in a hat. Then you pass the hat around in a circle and everyone has to answer the questions they draw. That sounded pretty good, so we all decided to try a game.

Well, some people wrote serious ones like, "What’s your greatest fear?" (Oliver Wood said "Seeing Slytherin win another Quidditch Cup.") Some of them are just sarcastic- "How are we supposed to learn anything from Lockhart?" (I know who wrote that one.) Some are truth-teller questions like "Did you ever think that Harry might be the Heir of Slytherin?" (Parvati got that one, blushed, nodded quickly, and said, "But I don’t think so anymore, Harry." And George Weasley said, "Yeah, so don’t Petrify her, Harry." It was funny.) And then some of the questions were sort of embarrassing.

Well, Fred Weasley pulled one that said, "Who in this room would you take out on a date?"

He didn’t say anything for a second. Just turned a bit red and raised his eyebrows. But finally he jerked his head toward Angelina and said, "I dunno.... I guess you’re not too bad." For a moment, nobody breathed. Then Angelina said, "I’m not, at that," and grinned, and everybody laughed. Thank goodness I didn’t get that question. I just would rather die.

What did you get? What did the others all get?

Well Ron chose next, and he looked like he thought the hat was going to bite him, after what happened to Fred. He got one of my questions- "What’s something you want to do before you die?" He said, "Go to a Quidditch World Cup match," and Lee Jordan clapped him on the back approvingly. Boys and Quidditch. Harry got a stupid question, and from the way Lavender giggled when he read it, I’m pretty sure she wrote it. "Which is nicer, sunrise or sunset?" He and Ron started sniggering, and Harry managed, "Oh, sunset, definitely sunset, that’s really nice." Then Neville drew "What’s your favorite thing about Hogwarts?" and answered, "That I got accepted, and I haven’t been expelled yet."

I got "What’s the most important thing in your life?" Ron snorted. "That’s easy. Her grades." "No it isn’t," I snapped, "It’s my friends, you idiot!" which set everybody off laughing again, and made him and Harry grin.

That sounds like a marvelous game.

Yes, and a Muggle one, at that. It was really fun, Gwen. It’s been such a nice holiday. Ron’s just dragged the chess sets in front of the fire. It seems Percy thinks he can beat him, but I doubt it. I’m just going to curl up and watch. Goodnight, Gwen.

March 28

Okay, Gwen, something bad happened. Nobody’s been attacked, though, so don’t be scared.

Harry was at a late Quidditch practice, because Gryffindor’s next Quidditch match is tomorrow—

Hufflepuff, and you know I’ll tell you every single move of it. Now listen. When Harry got back from practice, he found his dormitory room a wreck. He, Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean had all been out, and someone had taken the opportunity to turn the place upside-down and rifle through everything. Clothes were torn, bookshelves upset, drawers hanging open. They all went through to see if anything had been stolen, and Gwen, only one thing had.

Ginny’s diary. T.M. Riddle is gone. Harry and Ron just came down and told me, and I gasped without thinking, "But—only a Gryffindor could have stolen—nobody else knows our password!" Harry said, "Exactly." Oh, Gwen, it could only have been—

She must have been just desperate to get it back. She must have been possessed to do what she did to that dormitory.

Oh, Gwen, you don’t think the diary and the attacks are connected? How could they possibly be? Could you get out of your diary and attack people?

And anyway, the last attacks were in December. Ginny didn’t flush the diary until February. What about those months in between?

But what about Hagrid?

But what about Ginny??

Yes. Yes, I think he would, actually. All right, I’ll do it. I’ll try and get Harry and Ron to agree, Gwen. I’ll tell them about this first thing in the morning.

I will.

March 29

Gwen, I’m in the library- I’m about to go down to Harry’s match- I’m just waiting for Penelope Clearwater to finish what she’s doing so she can walk me down there, because she’s got a hand mirror and I’m not leaving here without one, it’s the only way I can be sure I won’t be killed walking through the halls, it’s the only thing I can think of to stop the monster—

Gwen, I’m terribly frightened and not very coherent. I’ve just figured it out. The monster of Slytherin. I know what it is.

I was on the stairs with Harry and Ron, trying to get Harry to report the diary’s being stolen, but he wouldn’t. He doesn’t want the story of how Hagrid got expelled to be common knowledge at Hogwarts. I was about to argue with him, when suddenly he let out a shout that nearly scared Ron and me half to death. He was hearing that voice! The floating one, that climbs walls! He said, "I just heard it again—didn’t you?" But we didn’t hear a thing, just like before.

And then I figured it out so fast that I actually slapped myself in the forehead and then sprinted up here to the library to check if I was right. And I’m right. I can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out.

Harry’s a Parselmouth. He can talk to snakes. That means he can hear them, too. He can hear Parseltongue, when nobody else can. The monster of Slytherin is a SERPENT. That’s why Harry’s the only one who can hear the voice! That’s how it floats and climbs walls- it’s in the pipes! I came to the library and grabbed the oldest, most enormous reference book on serpents I could find. I looked up "Petrification" in the index, which gave me to a heading on "Instant Death", so I turned to the page, and read this:

I scribbled "pipes" on the page to remind myself to tell Harry how it’s getting around, and then I tore the page out of the book. I tore a page out of a library book. I damaged school property.

I’ve worked it out. Nobody stared at it directly. Mrs. Norris was found next to that flood from the bathroom; she could have seen the Basilisk’s reflection in the puddle. Colin Creevey was found with his camera in front of his face; he saw the Basilisk through the lens. Justin Finch-Fletchley—

-- exactly, and Nick’s already dead, so the Basilisk couldn’t very well kill him again. Everything fits. Remember those spiders we found climbing out the window? "Spiders flee before the Basilisk." Remember when Hagrid found the dead rooster? The crow of the rooster "is fatal to it." Someone- the Heir- must have strangled the roosters so they couldn’t crow. Everything makes sense. I’m positive I’m right.

I’m going down to that Quidditch match, and as soon as it’s over I’m taking Ginny and Harry and Ron straight to Professor Dumbledore, and we’re telling him everything. We’re going to get rid of this Basilisk before it kills anybody. But I don’t want to leave the library without Penelope. I explained partly to her about the Basilisk, and she’s not convinced, but she’s smart enough to be worried- she’s not a Ravenclaw and a Prefect for nothing. We’re going down to the field together and we’re going to use her hand mirror to look around corners on the way. That way, if the Basilisk is out, we won’t see it directly and get killed. We’ll just see the reflection in the mirror and get Petrified instead.

Hermione, I don’t want you to get Petrified!

Gwen, I’m not going to get Petrified! The hand mirror is only a precaution. Okay, I’m going. Penelope’s putting her books away and taking out the mirror. I’ve just got to get down to the match. What I know could save somebody’s life.

I will.

I promise. See you in just a minute.

May 29

Gwen, I’m alive.

HERMIONE!!!! You’re not dead- you’re all right- when you never wrote I thought you must have met the Basilisk- I thought you were killed- oh, Hermione, where have you been?

Petrified. I’ve been lying Petrified in the hospital wing for two months.

Then you did meet the Basilisk- oh, Hermione. Thank heavens you’re here. I just- I can’t- I was so sure you were—

Gwen, I’m so confused.

My sweet girl, you must be. Go slowly. I’ll try to stay calm. What do you remember?

I remember big, yellow eyes in a huge, scaly head, and I remember sucking in my breath to let out a yell—then nothing.

Yes, I saw it in the mirror, and so did Penelope. She was lying in the bed next to mine in the infirmary when I woke up. And Justin was up there, and Colin, and Nick, and Mrs. Norris- we’ve all just been lying there- I think I’m still in shock.

Sitting on my bed in Gryffindor, in my pajamas. There’s a big pajama party down in the Great Hall, to celebrate our being woken up. Ron’s waiting on me downstairs. Everyone else is already at the Great Hall, but he’s being very patient with me. I told him I wanted a shower and a minute to myself before I go off to the celebration, and he said I should do whatever I want, he’ll wait.

A half-hour ago. I woke up screaming, Gwen. I thought the Basilisk was still there, because that’s the last thing I saw before everything froze. When I woke, I couldn’t move. That’s because Madam Pomfrey had hold of my left hand and was holding down my shoulder, and Ron was on my right doing the same thing. They didn’t want me to jerk out of bed and hurt myself, and they had to hold me down tight, because the first thing I did was try to bolt out of there. I heard myself screaming, "Run, Penelope! Run!" and I heard Madam Pomfrey’s voice saying, "There’s no Basilisk, Hermione, you’re quite safe here in the hospital wing- easy does it." I was struggling, trying to yank my hands away from them, but they both kept a tight grip and I heard, "It’s me, Hermione, it’s Ron, it’s okay, we’ve got you."

That put some sense in my head- I finally quit fighting everybody. After a minute, I asked, "What day is it? What happened?" My voice hardly worked- it was very small, and the light was really bright in my eyes, so I had to squint up at Ron. He said, "You got Petrified, Hermione." He looked really shaken and dirty, and there was slimy stuff all over him. I said, "How long ago?" Madam Pomfrey answered, "You’ve been out cold for two months- it’s end of term, my dear. But you’re all right now, so no worries."

Two months. It just didn’t make sense. It was like waking up out of a long, long nightmare. Everything around me was so chaotic that I couldn’t think straight for thirty seconds at a time- it all seemed to be happening in pieces, and none of them fit together. Ginny was sitting at my feet, sobbing her eyes out into my sheets and saying, "I’m so sorry, Hermione, it was my fault, it was all my fault!" I could see she was dirty and slimy like Ron, and her hair was all matted. Their mum and dad were up there, too. Mr. Weasley picked Ginny up onto her feet and held her, shushing her. Mrs. Weasley came ‘round to my left so that Madam Pomfrey could let go of me and wake up the others.

I have no idea. But, Gwen, I wanted my mum and dad so much, and if Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I’d’ve done. She smoothed my hair back and sat me up on the pillows, and told Ron to get me some water while she settled me down. He brought over a cup, but I couldn’t even hold on to it. Can you believe that? He had to hold up my head and help me drink it. I was all weak and stiff and couldn’t manage anything, but I was really glad for the water because my mouth tasted disgusting. Two months with no toothpaste, and then a Mandrake Restorative Draught. Sickening.

That’s when I started to take it all in. Ginny was standing over by her dad, looking very pale and whispering, "I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry." Ron just stared at me, gripping the water glass. And for some reason, Professor Lockhart was there, wandering around bumping into things, picking up different draughts and putting them down, and talking to the walls. He looked awful, too, all covered with slime and gunk. "What on earth happened to all of you?" I said. But before anyone could answer, there were ear-splitting screams from the next bed. Penelope Clearwater had just woken up, and the first thing out of her mouth was, "Hermione- it’s true- it’s a Basilisk—run!"

I don’t know why, Gwen, but hearing her scream like that, I just shuddered all over, slumped, and started to sob. Two months- gone. The Basilisk- gone. I felt like such a baby, but I just couldn’t help it. Mrs. Weasley gathered me right up and let me cry myself out. It took awhile.

I’m impressed that you’re composed at all! I’d still be a wreck, if it was me. You said it’s only been a half-hour?

Yes. All that happened within about ten minutes, I think. It was bedlam. And I had only just stopped crying, dried my eyes, and started fighting through my hiccups to ask some questions, when it happened again. Justin Finch-Fletchley woke up and hollered bloody murder. As soon as I heard him, I felt my chin tremble, and I knew I’d start bawling again.

I had just put my face in my hands and started shaking when I heard Ron say, "Right, that’s enough. C’mon, Dad, help me- she doesn’t need to listen to all this. I’m taking her back to Gryffindor where it’s quiet." A minute later, I was somehow on my feet, and Ron and Mr. Weasley had sneaked me into the hall while Madam Pomfrey was busy with Colin Creevey. Mr. Weasley made sure I was all right, then turned to Ron and said, "What you’ve done- what you did tonight for your sister- it was extremely brave, son. Your mother and I are very proud." Ron’s ears turned red and he mumbled, "Thanks, Dad." Mr. Weasley squeezed his shoulder, told me to take care, and went back into the infirmary.

I don’t know. I said, "Ron, what did you do for Ginny?" He shook his head and said, "Later, okay? You just take it easy a minute," and started to help me back here to Gryffindor- my legs were so rubbery that I had to put my arm ‘round his neck to stay up. "Well why are you all slimy then?" I said.

"Don’t ask questions."

"You expect me not to ask questions after two whole months?"

"Just rest a second, would you?"

"Ron, this is really hard to take, you have to tell me everything--"

"Hermione, seriously--"

"Just tell me where Harry is, then--"

"Quiet down!"

"Fine! I suppose you and Harry have got used to my not bothering you with questions, after all this time I’ve been Petrified."

But when I said the word "Petrified", Ron stopped dead in the hall. He turned me around, and I can’t really describe the expression he had, Gwen, but his voice was really quiet. He said, "It’s a good thing you’re so clever. If you hadn’t thought of that mirror, you’d be dead, Hermione, you know that?" I nodded, and got very shivery all of a sudden. I felt a sort of panic come over me and I had to whisper one more question.

"Where’s the Basilisk?"

"Harry killed it. C’mon, let’s get you –"

"What?! How did Harrykill –"

"Never mind that now- it’s dead and it can’t hurt you."

"But Ron, you have to tell me!"

I tried to stamp my foot, but my knee buckled and Ron had to catch me so I wouldn’t fall. "See, Hermione? I told you, if you don’t give it a rest--"

"All right, all right."

And then we walked the rest of the way back here. Both of us needed to get cleaned up, and I told him I was going to take a minute to absorb everything. I wanted to have some time to talk with you. I knew you must be scared for me.

I’d better go. Ron’s still waiting on me, and I want to see Harry, and find out everything. They have two months worth to catch me up on. We’re going to be up all night, I can feel it. We’re going to be up all week.

But Gwen!!!

I haven’t been to a single lesson in two months!!! What’s today—Friday night-- exams are supposed to start Monday—oh no, oh no!—what will I do??

Oh, Hermione—you’re back!! I missed you.

Gwen, I’m serious, now.

And then come and tell you.

You know I will! Oh, I can’t wait, I’m so excited. Goodnight, Gwen! See you very soon—and this time I really mean it.

March 30

Gwen!

It’s amazing- it’s enormous- you’ll never believe half of what’s happened. I just can’t stand that I was Petrified all through everything- I’m so mad! We’ve been up all night talking- it’s six in the morning. Harry and Ron have just gone to bed, but I’m not tired at all- I feel like my blood is racing. Maybe I don’t need sleep for awhile. Maybe being Petrified for two months is enough rest for the whole summer.

Probably! They told me the whole story, but Gwen, they said they’ve only given me the bare bones of it. There’s so much. They said it’ll take them the next two weeks to explain the details, but I had to know as much as they could tell me- I don’t even know where to begin.

Right. Professor McGonagall cancelled that Quidditch match and brought Harry and Ron up here to see me. They said I was lying with my eyes wide open, like I was carved from marble. They decided right then that it was high time to go to Hagrid and get some answers about what happened fifty years ago. But because of the attack on Penelope and me, the whole school was forbidden to go out of the castle, or even to go to the bathroom without a teacher. So they sneaked down to Hagrid’s using Harry’s dad’s old Invisibility Cloak.

They had just gotten into Hagrid’s cabin and thrown off the cloak, when they had to throw it right back on again because someone was coming. It was Professor Dumbledore, and with him was Cornelius Fudge, our Minister of Magic! He was coming to arrest Hagrid for the attacks- to take him away to the wizard prison- to Azkaban!

Yes. Dumbledore tried to defend him, but Fudge knew all about what happened with the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago, and Hagrid being expelled, and he said Hagrid’s history was against him. But before he could take him away, someone else turned up and gave the worst news of all. Lucius Malfoy.

Hardly. As if Mr. Malfoy would want to stop the attacks—he thinks Muggle-borns like me should be drowned in the lake. He was there because he’s one of the twelve governors of Hogwarts, and he’d blackmailed the other eleven into signing an order of suspension. Dumbledore was being made to step down, on account of all the attacks. Right- Mr. Malfoy just wanted him out of the way so the monster could kill every Muggle-born in sight. But it didn’t matter what the reason- Dumbledore had to leave Hogwarts immediately. The only wizard powerful enough to do anything about the Heir of Slytherin, and he was being removed from our school.

Harry and Ron just had to stand there under the cloak and watch it all happen. Mr. Malfoy took Professor Dumbledore- who said something as he was leaving, almost as if he knew that Harry and Ron were there. He said that he would never truly be gone from Hogwarts as long as someone there was still loyal to him, and that as long as he was needed, help would always be given. And then Hagrid, who did know that Harry and Ron were in the room, said, "If anybody wanted ter find out some stuff, all they’d have to do would be ter follow the spiders."

Yes, remember? "Spiders flee before the Basilisk." Harry and Ron just needed to find out just where they were fleeing.

Yes. Yes, I’ll get to that. So Hagrid was taken to Azkaban, and Dumbledore was removed from Hogwarts. Panic struck the school. People moved about in packs. A month went by with no gamekeeper, no Headmaster, and everybody frightened. The only good thing that happened during that time was that people finally realized that Harry wasn’t the Heir of Slytherin. They knew he’d never attack me. (I can’t believe that it took my getting Petrified to knock some sense into everyone. Honestly.)

There were only two people who didn’t seem to mind the trauma- Lockhart and Malfoy. Professor Lockhart believed that since Hagrid had been arrested, things were all perfectly safe again. (Gwen, how did I ever like him? He’s such a half-wit.) Malfoy was just sorry no one’d been killed. Apparently he was placing five-galleon bets that the next attack would be a Mudblood murder. "Pity it wasn’t Granger," he said. When Harry told me that, Ron banged his fist on the table and snarled, "That bloody (something I’m not repeating)!" I said, "Ron!" Although actually... I didn’t really mind. I don’t know.

Oh. Well anyway.

All through that time while everyone else was in a fright, Harry and Ron were busy watching out for spiders, so they could follow Hagrid’s clue. Finally one day they saw some, heading in a line out to the Forbidden Forest. So that night, they sneaked down there, took Hagrid’s dog Fang, and went into the forest after them. I can’t believe they had the courage to go in there without Hagrid. I remember how scary it was. But after following the little spiders for awhile, the first thing they met in the forest was actually friendly- it was Ron’s dad’s car! The one they’d flown to school and crashed into the Whomping Willow- it had driven itself off, and the forest had turned it wild! It drove right up to them with its headlights shining!

However, Gwen, that was the last friendly thing they met in the forest. (And at this point in the story, Ron stopped talking. He sat entirely quiet on the sofa, gripping a pillow, while Harry told me about what happened.) I guess Harry and Ron had gotten pretty close to what they were looking for at that point, because all the noise with the car and with Fang barking had alerted the.... the spider community.

The spider community?

Whatever. Three giant, flying spiders came out of the sky, snatched up Harry, Ron and Fang in their long, hairy legs, and took them to their lair. Harry said it was one of the most horrifying moments of his life. I can only imagine what Ron must have felt- I sort of got the idea watching him on the couch. He was totally pale with his mouth clamped shut, and his eyes had gone sort of glassy. I asked him if he needed some water or something, but I don’t think he heard me. He just stared straight ahead. Harry finished telling the story as quickly as he could.

There was a whole teeming mass of horse-sized spiders living in a hollow in the forest. That’s where Harry and Ron were taken. They called out for their leader, "Aragog", an even more enormous spider with milk-white eyes—he was blind. Aragog told them to kill Harry and Ron, said that Hagrid was the only man allowed in their midst. Harry shouted that Hagrid had sent them- that he was in trouble, in Azkaban, and that they needed to know what was happening with the Chamber of Secrets.

Aragog wouldn’t tell him. The Basilisk was to him what Lord Voldemort is to so many wizards—he wouldn’t even say the name. But he did tell Harry and Ron that he himself was the monster Hagrid had been expelled for—it wasn’t the monster of Slytherin after all, Gwen! It was Aragog! He said Hagrid had raised him in a cupboard up at the school. He said he couldn’t have had anything to do with the murder of that girl fifty years ago, because her body was found in a bathroom, and he had never seen any part of Hogwarts except his cupboard.

With that information, Harry tried to leave the spiders’ hollow. But Aragog wasn’t going to let him. He said that his ‘children’ (and I guess he meant those horrid spiders) didn’t touch Hagrid, on his command, but that he could not deny them fresh meat when it so willingly wandered into their midst. "Goodbye, friends of Hagrid," he said. And then Harry said it was like a wall of giant spiders formed over their heads, dropping down onto the forest floor, clicking and scuttling not ten feet above them, about to eat them alive.

This is the most revolting story I have ever heard. I’d be sick right now if I didn’t know they’d survived. How did they survive?

The enchanted car! At the last moment, it came hurtling through the trees! Ron threw Fang inside, he and Harry clambered into the front, and the car took off, smacking spiders on all sides as it went, following a path it obviously knew after being in the forest all that time. It got them safely back to Hagrid’s cabin. Fang ran in, Harry went to fetch back his Invisibility Cloak, and Ron staggered into the garden and got sick in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. When Harry told me that, Ron finally came out of his trance and shouted, "Harry! Do you have to tell every little detail?" Then he turned on me and said, "This is your fault, you know. Getting yourself Petrified like that. We didn’t have any choice but to go in there." And Harry said, "As if she wanted to get Petrified, Ron. But seriously, Hermione, it was close. We could easily have been eaten."

And what did you say?

I said, "I never thought I’d be so glad you’d broken school rules, but Ron, Harry, what if you hadn’t brought that car to Hogwarts? Just what if you hadn’t?" Harry said, "We’d be dead, I expect." Ron hurled a pillow at me and said, "That’ll teach you to nag us about flying cars to school, won’t it!"

I know! As if that were the point. They made it out of the forest alive, and they had new information. They knew it wasn’t Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secrets. They knew that Aragog wasn’t the monster of Slytherin. And, most importantly, they knew that the murdered girl’s body had been discovered in a bathroom. What ghost do we know that lives in a bathroom?

Exactly. But they couldn’t go to visit her and find out. The security on the students was insanely tight. Teachers walked them all from class to class, from the common rooms to the toilets, from bed to breakfast. They couldn’t possibly get a moment alone, unsupervised, near the scene of the first Petrification. So they had to trick somebody. Finally, just yesterday morning, they got their chance. Professor Lockhart was walking them from Defense Against the Dark Arts to History of Magic, complaining that all the security was hardly necessary. Ron said Lockhart kept saying that the first words out of the Petrified victims’ mouths when awakened would be, "It was Hagrid." As if it could ever be Hagrid. Oh, I’m so angry with myself, Gwen, I’m so angry I ever stood up for that brainless—

Wait until I tell you everything. Then you won’t say it’s all right. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Lockhart wasn’t interested in patrolling the halls, and so Harry and Ron played on his feelings- told him that the Gryffindor class could easily walk the rest of the way alone. Lockhart agreed that was true, and left them all there. I bet he went to curl his lousy hair. But it’s fine, because it gave Harry and Ron a chance to escape and go to Myrtle’s.

They didn’t get there, though- they ran into Professor McGonagall, and had to lie about why they were wandering off alone. They said they were coming up to visit me. (They hadn’t been allowed. The hospital wing was barred that entire time.) Prof. M. sympathized with them, being my friends and all, and gave them permission to come up and sit with me. It’s a good thing they did, too, Gwen, because that’s how they finally solved the mystery of the Basilisk. Remember that page I tore out of the library book?

Ha ha. Well, I had that page clamped tight in my fist when I got Petrified. It was still there when Harry and Ron came to visit. They noticed it, pulled it out of my hand, and put everything together on the spot. The way the people hadn’t seen the monster directly, the way it was using the pipes to get around the building, the reason the voice could only be heard by Harry.... plus they figured out one thing that I hadn’t. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets? It was probably right in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

They tried to go to her. They didn’t think of handling it alone- they knew they had important information and wanted to get it straight to a teacher, just like I would have done if I hadn’t been Petrified. Just think, Gwen, if I’d made it to that Quidditch match, all this could have been avoided. It might have been solved two months ago, and then we’d have had two perfectly normal months of wonderful school.... oh, I can’t believe I lost all that time. I’m still not over it.

They never got to her. The staff was all having a meeting, and so they hid in the coat closet to listen. They figured they’d tell everybody what was going on, once they’d had a chance to listen in. But what they heard was absolutely dreadful- worse than anything you can imagine. The monster had struck again—and this time, it had taken a student down into the Chamber. The Heir of Slytherin had daubed another message on the wall, saying, "HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER".

Ginny Weasley. Gwen, it was Ginny Weasley. Ron heard Professor McGonagall say her name, and said he just slid down to the floor of the coat-closet, stunned. Harry said his heart stopped beating- he couldn’t believe it was Ginny. Even just telling the story, they both looked a little gray.

Then Professor Lockhart came into the staff room and all the teachers attacked him at once- saying how it was his lucky day, after all, he’d always been so sure he was the one who’d chased off the monster—it was his big chance to go on and prove himself. They told him to get out, and go catch the monster like he’d always wanted. So he left the room- presumably to go and give it a try. Once he’d gone, Professor McGonagall said that it was all over. Now that someone had been taken- probably murdered- Hogwarts was going to have to be shut down.

Harry and Ron had spent the most horrible day of their lives thinking about Ginny, wishing there was something- anything- they could do. And finally they decided they’d have to go to Lockhart- after all, if he was going to try and stop the monster, then he’d need all the information they could give him. So they went to the office, and they found him. And Gwen, this is the part where I lost every tiny shred of respect I might ever have had for Professor Lockhart.

He was packing his bags. He was running away. Ron said, "What about my sister?" Harry said, "After all that stuff you did in your books?" But Lockhart told them, "Books can be misleading." Misleading? Gwen, he admitted he’d never done any of those Dark Arts things. He’d taken the credit for what a ton of really clever, really brave witches and wizards had done, and then he’d wiped out their minds with a Memory Charm, and stolen the stories for his own books! Can you believe someone could be such a lying—such a cowardly, horrible—

And he was actually going to wipe out Harry and Ron’s memories, after he told them! He had raised his wand to do it when Harry yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and disarmed Lockhart. Ron caught his wand and tossed it out a window, and together they marched that- that git- to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, to see what could be done about saving Ginny’s life.

That’s just what I say. Of course, Ron came down on me right away. "Now what d’you have to say about Lockhart, Hermione? Can’t find anything to back him up anymore, can you? Admit it! Admit I was right all along. Admit it."

What else could I do? "Fine, I admit it. He’s good for nothing. He’s mindless. I can’t stand him, if you have to know." And Gwen, I have never seen anybody look quite so satisfied as Ron did at that moment.

They asked her how she died. She said she’d seen a great big pair of yellow eyes—I know all about that— and then she just seized up and died. She showed them where she’d seen the eyes, they searched the area, and found that on one of the copper taps under the sink, a tiny serpent had been etched. Harry spoke to it in Parseltongue- told it to open up- and Gwen, it did. The Chamber of Secrets opened right up! They did it! They found it! I’’m so proud of them.

At that point, stupid Lockhart of course tried to get away, but Ron told him to go ahead and go first. They ignored how terrified he looked, and shoved him into the hole in the wall. Harry and Ron followed right behind him- just in case there was the slightest, barest chance that Ginny might still be alive. They slid down some kind of incredibly long chute, covered with slime and dirt (that’s how they got so filthy) and skidded to a halt, miles under the lake, in a dank cavern far from anybody who could help them, inside the Chamber of Secrets.

The first thing they found was the recently-shed skin of the Basilisk- twenty feet long and glinting in Harry’s wand light. That’s when Lockhart tried to get away again—he grabbed Ron’s wand! He said he was going to wipe out their memories, take back a bit of the snake’s skin, tell everyone he’d been too late to save Ginny, and that Harry and Ron had lost their minds tragically at the sight of her dead body.

Pardon my mouth, but may I please call him a—

NO. Ron already did that enough tonight for a whole entire army. Anyway, his little plan didn’t work out. He didn’t realize Ron’s wand was broken. He sent out a Memory Charm at the two of them with as much force as he could muster—and it backfired!! Lockhart wiped out his own memory! Serves him right, too. But unfortunately, the wand exploded with such force that it brought down a ton of rock from the ceiling, trapping Ron with Lockhart at the mouth of the chute, and leaving Harry on the other side, alone in the Chamber.

What else could Harry do? He had to find Ginny. He went on without Ron, to face the Basilisk, and the Heir. Ron spent his time trying to pull out some of the rock so Harry’d be able to get back through, and contending with Lockhart, who had forgotten everything. He didn’t know where they were, or why, or who he was, and he kept getting in Ron’s way. Ron said he had to kick him in the shins every five seconds, just to keep him off. I think he rather enjoyed that part, Gwen.

Here’s how. Harry ran ahead into the chamber to find Ginny. She was in a heap in the ground, and Harry went to her, throwing his wand aside to pick her up- to try and wake her. But she wouldn’t wake, no matter what he tried. She seemed almost dead. And that’s when somebody picked up Harry’s wand, and started to twirl it- idly almost, as if nothing strange or scary were happening at all.

The Heir of Slytherin was in that Chamber, Gwen. And this is the part you won’t believe. The Heir of Slytherin was T.M. Riddle. Tom had been behind everything. And even worse than that, he wasn’t really Tom. I mean, the consciousness in the diary was sixteen year old Tom Riddle- but he’s still alive, Gwen, and he’s become somebody else. He drew his name in the air with his wand- Tom Marvolo Riddle- and then, in front of Harry’s eyes, he rearranged the letters, writing:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

All this time. All this time, it was Tom- and all this time, Tom was Voldemort.

You certainly were right to mistrust him, Gwen. I’ll never forget it- "Never trust an object that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain." Tom Riddle’s ‘brain’ was really Voldemort! Thank goodness I know where you keep your brain- if I didn’t, I’d be terrified of you, after what’s happened. Tom Riddle had climbed out of the diary, and was there in the Chamber with Ginny, and he told Harry how he’d managed to do everything.

All the time Ginny had been writing in that diary, Voldemort had been writing back, sucking out her soul, and pouring his into her. He had possessed her, Gwen. He had been controlling Ginny all year. Ginny was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She set the Basilisk on all of us who got Petrified. She painted the messages on the walls, and strangled the roosters. It was Ginny. That’s what she was coming to tell me in the hospital wing. That’s why she tried to flush the diary. That’s why she stole it back from Harry’s dormitory, too—she was probably horrified he’d read what she’d done. She thought she was going completely mad.

Poor Ginny! A whole year- what a nightmare it must’ve been for her—

Yes. And now the nightmare was going to end with her getting killed. Harry said she was just lying there in a little pile, white and unconscious. It didn’t make any sense, though, that Voldemort would hurt Ginny, because Ginny’s pure blood. But Voldemort told Harry he didn’t care about killing Mudbloods anymore. He only wanted to kill Harry Potter, the boy that had ruined his career as the greatest wizard in the world. Harry shouted that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world, and everybody knew it!

As if Dumbledore could hear him, the moment Harry said that, help arrived. Fawkes flew in, carrying the school Sorting Hat.

A Phoenix and a Sorting Hat... but how was Harry supposed to defend himself with those?

Well, Fawkes flew up and blinded the Basilisk so it couldn’t fix Harry with its deadly stare, so that helped. Then Harry was free to fight it with his eyes open.

Fight it with what?

Godric Gryffindor’s sword! Harry put on the Sorting Hat, to figure out why on earth Dumbledore would send him that, and it dropped from the hat right onto his head! Gwen, the things that go on in this school- the magic Dumbledore is capable of- the bravery everybody’s got to have just to survive here- I can hardly stand it. It’s wonderful. Harry grabbed the sword, and sank it into the roof of the Basilisk’s mouth, mortally wounding it!

But not before the Basilisk had a chance to sink one of his fangs into Harry. And you remember from that page in the library book, Gwen – the the venom is deadly. Harry fell to the ground. He knew he was killed. He said that he reached out for Fawkes at that moment, and said, "You were fantastic!" Fawkes came to him, and wept on the place where he’d been bitten.

Yes! Harry’s arm healed at once, and he looked up at Tom Riddle, who was still standing there, holding his wand. He pointed it at Harry as if to kill him, since the Basilisk hadn’t managed it. But before he could do it, Fawkes had flown to the diary, and dropped it in Harry’s lap! Harry said he didn’t think- he didn’t know what made him do it- he just plunged the Basilisk’s fang into the heart of the diary! Ink flooded all over him, Tom Riddle began to twist and scream—

Well, the shadow of Voldemort, anyway. What Voldemort used to be.

So that’s what happened. That’s everything. My heavens, that’s enough.

Well, it’s almost everything. At this point in the story, it was five in the morning, and Ron and Harry were looking dead tired, but I made them finish. Just as they were about to continue, somebody else came into the common room where we were talking. It was Ginny. She couldn’t sleep- she said she kept having nightmares about Tom coming out of the diary, and hearing his awful laughter, and were we too mad at her, or would we mind if she just sat down with us a minute?

Harry said, "We’re not mad; c’mon in, Ginny." I’ve never seen anybody so dear, Gwen. Ginny was just exhausted, and her eyes were half-shut, but she still managed to blush all the way up to her hair. It’s too sweet, really. So she curled up in a big chair that faced me, where she wouldn’t have to look at Ron and Harry, and she listened to them tell the very end of the story.

Harry told how she’d finally woken up, and how she’d started to cry- "D’you mind if I tell it, Ginny, or would you rather?" Ginny wouldn’t look at him- just shook her head and whispered, "No, it’s true. I cried." So Harry told how he and Ron and Ginny and Lockhart had all grabbed onto Fawkes’ tail feathers, and flown out of the Chamber, back up into Hogwarts—how Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had been waiting, and had fallen on Ginny with relief—how they’d explained everything to Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall—and finally how all of them (excepting Harry) had ended up in the infirmary when I woke up. You know all about that part. I think the last thing I told you, Ron and I were headed down to the pajama party in the Great Hall?

Well it was a marvelous celebration. Gryffindor won the House Cup again because Harry and Ron got two hundred points apiece for solving the Chamber of Secrets- plus they both got awards for special services to the school!! They deserve it. Plus, we found out that Professor Lockhart won’t be coming back, due to his new memory troubles. Thank goodness. The only bad thing about the whole celebration- well, I don’t know if it’s bad, exactly- I don’t know whether to be happy or not, Gwen. Exams are cancelled as a school treat.

But what about all the things I already learned? I may have missed two months of school, but I bet I could still get very good marks- I always study ahead of the lesson plan. I’ve already started studying for some of next year’s classes.

Anyway, it’s decided, so there’s no point in worrying about it. I’ll just have to draw up quizzes for myself over the summer. Oh my. Everybody in my dormitory is starting to wake up. Parvati just rolled over and yawned. What time is it.... Gwen! Have I been writing for three hours? It’s almost nine o’clock in the morning! It’s completely light out! Why am I not tired?

Ron and Harry and Ginny all went up to bed at six in the morning. I walked Ginny to her room, but before she went in, she apologized to me again. "I set that horrid thing on you. How can you ever forgive me?" Ijust gave her a hug, Gwen, and told her we’d have a long talk later, and that I didn’t blame her one bit for what had happened. I do have a lot to tell her, though. I want to tell her all about you, and—

Whoa. Gwen, it just hit me. I feel like I just got whomped over the head by that willow. I’m going to bed. And when I don’t write to you tomorrow, don’t get worried. It’s not because I’m Petrified. It’s because I’m unconscious.

‘Night, Guinevere.

June 1

Class! Gwen, we had class today! I missed going to class.

I missed it anyway. We’re just having a week of regular classes, and no exams. But guess what Ron and Harry did for me? Never mind, I’ll just tell you. They took really good notes in class the whole time I was Petrified, and they’re letting me take the notes home with me over the summer!

Yes, they do. The only class they didn’t bother with was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but that’s fine, I’m sure they didn’t learn anything anyway. I do wish we had some make-up classes for that this week, but they’ve all been cancelled, because Professor Lockhart’s been sent off to get his memory cured, and he’s not coming back to Hogwarts afterwards. I’ve got two whole years of Defense Against the Dark Arts to catch up on- even though Ron says that, if you look at it from the practical point of view, we’ve all had a ton of experience with it. I guess that’s true, but still, won’t we ever have a real teacher in there? I’m certainly not giving the next one the benefit of the doubt. They’ll have to be a really fine professor to make up for Quirrell and Lockhart.

Maybe. I doubt it.

Oh, no! That’s right, I never told you. Dumbledore wrote to Azkaban and had him shipped straight back to us. Hagrid showed up at the pajama feast at about three in the morning, looking relieved and exhausted, and it looked like he hadn’t slept the whole time he’d been gone. I imagine Azkaban isn’t very nice. But he grabbed Ron and Harry, cuffed them on their shoulders, gave me a wink, and told us he’d been cleared of everything! It was Tom Riddle who did everything that Hagrid was ever punished for. That diary was proof.

Oh, Gwen, the diary!! I fell asleep before I could tell you about that, too. Ginny didn’t come by that diary on accident. Remember way back when we were getting our schoolbooks in Diagon Alley, and Mr. Malfoy was making fun of Ginny’s secondhand Transfiguration book? While he had it in his hand, he slipped Voldemort’s diary inside! He wanted her to do two dirty jobs for him. One was to kill all the Muggle-borns, and take the blame for it. The other was to ruin Mr. Weasley. Ginny’s dad is head of the Office of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts at the Ministry, and he just signed a Muggle Protection Act—if his own daughter were discovered killing Muggle-borns! It would have destroyed his career.

Well, among his illegal possessions, I guess he’s got some old school things of Lord Voldemort’s, because—well, they say he was on Voldemort’s side, before the Dark Lord lost all his power. After that, he came crawling back, and said he’d been working under a dark enchantment, against his will. But I think he really is evil. He’s just a coward. Like his son.

Harry. While everyone else was getting tended to in the hospital wing the other night, Harry was up talking to Professor Dumbledore—

Well that’s the thing. When the other eleven governors heard that Ginny Weasley had been abducted and probably murdered, they sent Dumbledore back here in a hurry. But they’re cowards too, Gwen. They waited until somebody got really hurt before they’d stand up to Lucius Malfoy. I think they’re a bunch of doddering old fools to take Dumbledore out, no matter what the reason. I mean, if Harry and Ron hadn’t found.... if anything had gone a tiny bit wrong.... they could all be.... I can’t think about it. I’m so angry at those governors.

Anyway, about that. Lucius Malfoy was also angry at the governors- furious they’d sent Dumbledore back to Hogwarts- and he stormed in to throw insults at everybody while Harry was up there explaining the Chamber of Secrets. And Gwen, Mr. Malfoy had somebody with him. He was dragging his poor house-elf, who just happened to be Dobby!!

All the time that Dobby was trying to protect Harry, it was because he knew what Malfoy, his master, was trying to do. He knew the Heir of Slytherin had returned; he knew the Chamber had been opened. He risked everything to warn Harry, because house-elves aren’t allowed to tell their master’s secrets, or go off anywhere without permission. They live in a kind of slavery. Dobby was the Malfoys’ slave. Isn’t that the most awful thing you ever—

Was? Dobby was the Malfoys’ slave?

That’s the best part. After Dumbledore gave Mr. Malfoy a warning about slipping anymore of Voldemort’s old school things into the hands of unsuspecting students, Malfoy left in a rage, dragging Dobby behind him. You probably already know, Gwen, that a house-elf can only be freed if its master presents it with clothing of some kind?

He took Voldemort’s dead diary, wrapped it in his own sock, ran after Mr. Malfoy, and shoved the diary into his hand. Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw the sock aside, and—

Yes! Harry freed a slave! I think that’s just marvelous. Non-human magical creatures shouldn’t have to be slaves, I don’t think. Nobody should. I need to find out more about house-elves.

Oh, I’ll bet Lucius Malfoy was just livid to lose his house-elf.

He was. He told Harry he’d end up dying just like his parents, the horrid man. "They were meddlesome fools, too," he said. Well, if by meddlesome he means clever and interested and curious, and if by foolish he means rash and courageous, then I think Harry’s parents would be proud of him. He’s all those things. He, Ron and I—we’re all meddlesome fools, and I’m glad.

Though my parents... .Gwen, they’re not proud, or glad. They’re terrified. I got about six owls yesterday, and then again today. They’ve been a wreck for two months. Professor McGonagall wrote and told them I’d been Petrified, and that there was nothing to do but wait for the Mandrakes to mature so I could wake up again. They tried to bring me right home, but Professor McGonagall said that if they wanted me watched properly and revived as soon as possible, I’d better be left here. So now that I’m awake, they’re threatening to bring me home for good. How can I make them understand, Gwen? I’m a witch. I have to be a witch. I can’t ever really go back, no matter how dangerous this world can be. So I’ve written them this letter. Tell me if you think it’s good.

"Dear Mum and Dad,

Hermione

Thanks, Gwen. I’m going to go ask Harry if I can borrow Hedwig. She’s really fast. See you soon.

June 5

Guinevere, I just had the best talk with Ginny Weasley! She’s awfully nice. Now that Tom Riddle isn’t possessing her anymore, she’s so friendly and smiling—I really didn’t know her at all this year. She says she hasn’t been herself since she got that diary last summer, and when Harry destroyed the diary down in the Chamber, it was like a fever breaking, like a horrible sickness leaving her body all in a rush. She finally feels well again. I can’t imagine- poor Ginny- to have Voldemort in your soul.... can you even imagine? It’s interesting, though. She’s come closer to Voldemort now than any of us has, except for Harry. Ron and I have never faced the Dark Lord. But Ginny was down underground with him, all alone, for hours. I asked her about what that was like, but she said she’d rather not talk about it yet. She’s not ready. However!

She likes Harry. She pretty much told me.

Well, when she mentioned about Harry destroying Tom, I said, "He really saved your life down there, Ginny, didn’t he?" She turned completely pink, and started fussing with her pillow sham. After a little while, she said, "Hermione... I’ve been wanting to ask you.... do you know.... if Tom said anything to Harry? About..... the things I wrote in the diary?" She didn’t look at me. I pretended I had no idea what she could be talking about. "What things?" I said. "Oh," she said, "like if I were to write, you know, personal things." And you’ll think I’m awful, Gwen, but I’ve just been wanting to know, and so I pretended I still didn’t know what she was talking about. I said, "You mean, what you wrote in there about what you did with the Basilisk and all? We all know that wasn’t your fault."

Ginny shook her head. "No," she said, in a very soft voice, "What I mean is... well supposing... if I’d ever written anything..... about Harry. Did Tom say anything like that?"

It took all my willpower not to, but I didn’t. How could I? I don’t want to rush Ginny into confiding anything. We’ve got five more years together, and I want us to be friends. I just told her, "No, Ginny, I never heard anything like that, and I know Harry would have told us."

"Really?" she said. She sounded very hopeful. "Really," I said. She looked so relieved. And then I started thinking.... would Harry have told us that kind of thing? Did Tom say anything about Ginny? I wonder how I could ask him.

Hermione....

Oh, all right. Anyway, it was a wonderful talk with Ginny—oh yes, Gwen, and I told her all about you! That cheered her up awfully about her diary experience. I told her how you’re enchanted, and you talk to me, and how I know how nice it is to have a friend like you to talk to, and I’m not at all surprised she became so attached to Tom. I’m attached to you, after all.

And I wonder... can Ginny come with me next time I’m in Diagon Alley? I want her to see where you are at Miss Vauclain’s.

I will! Oh, good, that’ll be fun. And so will this week, Gwen! A whole free week at Hogwarts before we leave next Friday. Just think how many hours that is to go over all the school notes Ron and Harry took for me! Plus it gives me time to brush up on my French. We’re leaving on holiday in a month. You know, I suddenly feel like studying.

Oh, hush. Goodnight, Gwen.

June 8

Gwen, I’m so excited I can hardly breathe!

I’ve just come from Professor McGonagall’s office and I found out the most unbelievable—oh, it’s like my birthday and Christmas all together. I never dreamed anything like this was possible—even with magic!

Well for heaven’s sake tell me.

I got a note at breakfast saying I was to meet Professor McGonagall in her office at ten sharp. Ron looked worried, and Harry said, "You don’t think it’s your parents?" They know I’m scared my parents are going to try and pull me out of Hogwarts. I thought it was either Mum and Dad, or else I was about to get in trouble for tearing that page out of the library book. I didn’t want to go and see.

But when I went, my parents weren’t there, and I wasn’t in trouble. Instead, Prof. M. just wanted to see me about my classes next year. She asked me to sit down, and pulled out a letter and what looked like a jewelry box. She handed the letter to me, told me to go ahead and read, and then ask her if I had questions.

Gwen, it was a letter from the Ministry of Magic. It was the best letter in the world. Professor McGonagall asked them to grant me a Time-Turner, so that I can turn back time and take all the classes I want, and because I’m such a good student, they’ve said YES! I can take three lessons at a time, just by turning back an hour, and attending each of them in turn. That means I can take all five of those extra classes I wanted! I read it, and I think my mouth fell open in shock. I mean, I’m allowed to turn back time!

I couldn’t speak. I just grinned, and Prof. M. smiled, too, and handed me the jewelry box. Inside it was a miniature working hourglass on a really long, thin, gold chain. It’s beautiful. I’m to wear it under my robes, give the hourglass a turn after each overlapping class next year, set myself back in time an hour, and be extremely discreet about it. There are all sorts of rules, and I could have my wand snapped in half and be thrown out of the magical world if I don’t follow them. I’m not allowed to be seen near myself when I go back in time. I can’t use it for anything other than classes—if I do, and I’m found out, I’ll be expelled. Of course I never would, but it’s all very impressive.

Impressive. Yes. Hermione, I’m quite proud of you, and I know how dedicated you are, so please don’t take this the wrong way. Think very, very hard about what this will mean. You’ll be creating three hours worth of extra work for yourself every day, but there won’t be three hours of extra homework time, or extra sleep. You’ll get sick.

Don’t be silly, Gwen! It’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever heard of. And it’s such an honor, I mean, Time-Turners are only rarely granted, even to fully qualified witches. They’re making a huge exception for me, and I just know I can live up to my fullest potential if I use this opportunity. Think how much I’ll be learning! I can’t pass it up. I’m doing it.

No.

Yes. That’s it.

Thank you. And now I have to run, because I can’t wait to tell--- but wait a minute, I can’t tell anybody anything. That’s the other rule. No one’s to know except my parents. I’m bound to secrecy. I wish I could tell Harry and Ron! Oh well. I suppose they’d just think I’m an idiot for wanting to do extra schoolwork. Funny, all this time I thought not doing schoolwork was what made people into idiots. Anyway, now I’ve got to make up a story about why I was in Professor McGonagall’s office, because they’re going to want to know. What should I tell them?

What do you mean?

You mean, just... ignore questions I can’t answer?

How, though?

That’s really good advice, Gwen. Thanks—I will just change the subject whenever it comes up. After all, I wouldn’t want to try and lie anyway. I’m not a very good liar. But maybe it’s better if I just avoid them a bit. They can only pester me with questions if they can find me, so I’m going to the library. Harry and Ron won’t come near a library now that it’s holiday, so I’ll be quite safe. They’ll probably be down by the lake all day. I’m going to go and start looking up all my new subjects in the library—see how much I can manage to read before I have to leave Hogwarts.

What, the library?

Hold on, let me look—yes, it’s blue out today. Wow, it’s really blue. Lots of sunshine.

Yes, I can if I lean out—oh, everybody’s down there. What’s Neville doing, trying to tickle the squid? No, he’s just fallen in. And it seems like there’s some kind of tag-on-broomsticks going on— oh, look at Oliver Wood chase down Alicia Spinnet! They’re such good fliers. I wonder if- yes, there’s Harry flying, and there’s Ron, too--- That looks fun.

Ancient Runes... you know, Gwen, I just had a thought.... I suppose I could order my basic texts from Diagon Alley by owl, when I get home. That way, I’d have them early enough to study all summer. I could even take them to France.

And then it wouldn’t be very wrong of me to go down to the lake today. I mean, there are only a few days left here at Hogwarts, and then I won’t see it for over two months. I should enjoy it.

Yes, you know, Gwen, I think I’ll go outside for a little while.

See you soon, okay? ‘Bye.

The last full day was today, Gwen. We go home on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow.

Yes. Especially after we had such fun all week long, and such a wonderful time today. I just hate to leave.

Played a mock game of Quidditch. Well, I didn’t really, but I refereed. It was just Harry and Ron against Fred and George, and Fred said as long as I was there, I ought to come up on my broom and call the fouls. I was really flattered to be asked, actually. But you should have seen Ron’s face.

"Call the fouls? Hermione? She doesn’t know anything about fouls."

"I do too! I know what cheating looks like."

"Fouls and cheating are different things, see—"

"No they’re not. Foul means foul play and that’s cheating."

"Look, go sit over there and watch."

"I will not!"

"You’re going to get hit by a bludger!"

"Only if you hit it at me on purpose. Honestly, Ron, haven’t I been to enough matches by now? I know how it’s done, please move out of the way."

Then he grabbed my broom and held it away from me, and I was just about to disarm him with my wand, but finally Harry hollered down, "Oi, cut it out, you two! It’s a scrimmage, who cares, just let’s get started!" I heard George mutter, "Are they always like that?" And Harry, looking very exasperated, said, "Yes. Always." We are not! But anyway, I wasn’t budging, so Ron gave me my broom back, and I flew up to watch them play. It was exciting, even though I kept making mistakes. Fred tried to block Harry from making a goal-shot, and I called a foul, but Harry said that that kind of block was actually okay. I didn’t see how, so they did some demonstrations of good and bad blocking. I still couldn’t really see a difference, but I didn’t want to admit it because Ron was laughing so hard he almost fell off his broom. So I just stopped calling those ones, and started concentrating on not getting hit by anything. But I did see one thing- when Ron knocked George in the stomach with his broom handle, I knew that couldn’t be right.

Good, because I called "Foul!" and gave George a penalty shot. Ron was livid, and I felt just like Madam Hooch!

I don’t know. It didn’t matter. Oh, but Gwen, this matters. It’s my last chance to beat Ron at chess until next year, and he’s giving me his serious game face. I think he’s still mad I gave George that penalty shot. He’s setting up our pieces—my poor little pawns are already shivering and his crazy knight is picking a fight with my bishop. I’ve got to go deal with this. ‘Bye, Gwen.

June 12

I’m on the train. Just quickly had to tell you something funny. Ginny just told all of us- that’s Ron, Harry, Fred, George and me- that a few weeks ago, she walked in on her brother Percy with Penelope Clearwater, in an empty classroom, kissing.

Oh my goodness. I mean, of course, Fred and George are going to tease him something awful this summer, and that’s not funny. But Percy and Penelope! Ginny and I can’t stop giggling just thinking about it. Every time we catch eyes, we’re off again. Percy and Penelope- I mean, they’re prefects. What are they doing sneaking around in classrooms and kissing? They’re so weird.

Anyway, I have to get back- I want them to deal me into this round of Exploding Snap. It’s our last hour to do magic before we hit the Muggle world. Talk to you when I’m there.

June 13

Hi, Gwen.

Mum was crying when I got to King’s Cross, and Dad was all tense. They grabbed me up in the biggest hug I’ve ever had, though, and I really needed it. I miss Hogwarts already, of course, but it’s nice to be home and get hugs. They were so worried about me—it took five hours of explaining about all the Dark Arts and things. I’m surprised it didn’t take all night.

I called a family meeting as soon as we walked in the door, before my trunk was even out of the car. I started all the way from scratch, with Voldemort, and the history of the dark years, and then told them all about Harry’s famous escape. They were aghast. "Your friend Harry? The one you talk about? But that’s amazing! The poor boy- we knew he was an orphan, but Hermione! Is Voldemort going to continue to seek him out while he’s at Hogwarts? Why should we let you stay at a school like that, friends with a boy who is targeted by a Dark wizard?"

Ugh, Gwen, it was a long, long, long, long, long family meeting. But I told them everything. I explained all about the Sorcerer’s Stone and the Chamber of Secrets – I told them how clever Ron and Harry are, and how brave – I told them that Dumbledore is there, and he’s considered the most powerful wizard in the world, even above Voldemort. I told them about how Hagrid looks out for me, and how all of my professors (well, almost all) believe I’m the best witch in my class. I made them see how much I’ve learned and accomplished- I showed them the letter from the Ministry of Magic and told them about the Time-Turner (it’s at school, locked in Professor McGonagall’s office) and I convinced them that Hogwarts is the only place in the world for me.

And I get to stay!

Hermione, I’m so glad.

But Dad made me promise I’d try and have a nice quiet third year. I told him I’ll do my best. I’m hoping for a quiet year, too.

Oh, I’m not talking about my classes, Gwen. I mean stuff that’s really hard and dangerous, like Voldemort and Basilisks. Stuff that can ruin my health. A year without that kind of pressure would be fine with me. Another thing is, Mum and Dad agree with me that a subscription to the Daily Prophet would come in very handy. They can learn about the wizarding news and get more familiar with my kind of life, and I can keep updated on what’s happening back in that world....

I miss it. I’ve got my luxury eagle feather quill and my copy of "Unexpected Witches" perched up on my bureau. I don’t know how I’ll last without those two, Gwen. Even with a holiday in France. At least this summer, Harry gave us both his telephone number, so if that horrid uncle of his tries to stop his mail again, I can just ring him up.

D’you think it’s too early to write them letters?

No, I’d love it. You’re right.

Oh, honestly, Gwen! I’m going to go write them, then. Say hi to everyone at Miss Vauclain’s- and of course!! I can’t believe you were going to let me forget! You have permission to tell everybody about the Chamber of Secrets!

Yes, to make up for all that Quidditch we missed this year. I meant to tell you the other day, but I forgot. Tell them the whole story! Just... don’t tell the really secret stuff. Leave out Professor Lockhart.

I will tell the edited and sanitized version. You never have to worry, Hermione. Your secrets are safe with me. They’ll all love to hear about the Chamber- what a wonderful adventure! And Cassiopeia has been rather put out about the lack of Quidditch. So thank you very much.

You’re welcome. Talk to you soon, okay? I’m going to write Harry and Ron and let them know I’m not being pulled out of Hogwarts, and that I’ll see them on the train, September first! Oh, Gwen, that’s two and a half months away... I’ll never ever last that long. If only I didn’t have to feel the time passing. You know, it’s almost enough to make me sort of wish that I were—

—Petrified.

I’m kidding. ‘Bye, Gwen.

Fin