142: Chapter 142 The Petrifier Awakens

"Harry, tell me everything about the Chamber of Secrets from the beginning, and don't leave out the silver light."

Hermione's first words upon waking made the potion bottle in Madam Pomfrey's hand nearly clatter against the bedside table.

Her face was pale, but her fingers gripped the bedsheets, ready to bolt from the Hospital Wing to the Library at any moment.

Harry stood by the bedside, while Ron, clutching a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, felt his back tighten under her gaze.

"You just woke up, drink your medicine first."

"Tell me first."

Hermione looked at Harry. "The last things I remember are the mirror, the Basilisk, Penelope, and the sound of water at the end of the corridor. You went down there, didn't you?"

Ron rushed to say: "He went down, barely made it back up, and Gilderoy Lockhart blew up the tunnel—now he can't even tell who he is."

Hermione ignored him. "What is the silver light?"

Harry rubbed his forehead. "I can't explain it. In the Chamber of Secrets, there was Tom, Ginny, the Basilisk's corpse, and Fawkes. Later, Tom tried to kill me, the silver light blocked it, and the diary was pierced by a fang."

"Who pierced it?"

Harry opened his mouth, then swallowed his words back.

He remembered holding the fang, and he remembered a blurry silhouette shattered by the water's surface, but every time he tried to grasp the name, only a patch of silver remained in his mind.

Seeing his reaction, Hermione's face changed.

"Your memory has been tampered with."

Ron put the bean bag on the bedside. "Snape said the same thing."

"Snape?"

"In the Headmasters Office. He also said there were blanks in the Philosopher's Stone incident last year."

Hermione looked down at her fingers, dust still beneath her nails.

She had had a long dream before waking up, filled with a Troll's club veering off course, sliding iron bolts, and silver light skimming across the corridor's water.

These fragments were strung together by the words "silver light."

She looked up. "Last Halloween, why did the Troll's club veered off?"

Ron was stunned. "Because I used the Levitation Charm."

"The first time the club veered off, your spell failed."

Ron's face flushed red. "You were screaming then."

"I was watching, too."

Hermione spoke faster. "The trajectory of the club changed, the sink was smashed, the magic at the back of the Troll's neck was severed. After the Professor arrived, Snape checked it, and even Quirrell panicked."

Harry's face darkened. "Quirrell was already possessed by Lord Voldemort then."

"Right."

Hermione gripped the edge of the bed. "Someone saved us outside the Girls Lavatory, someone saved you in the Philosopher's Stone chamber, and now the silver light has appeared in the Chamber of Secrets. All three times involved Harry, Lord Voldemort, danger, and an invisible helper."

Ron felt his scalp tingle. "You just woke up and you're already investigating? Can't you give us a moment to breathe?"

Hermione looked at him. "Ginny almost died."

Ron shut his mouth.

On the other side of the Hospital Wing, Justin Finch-Fletchley was surrounded by Hufflepuffs, while Nearly Headless Nick floated in mid-air, repeatedly saying he had seen those eyes through his ghostly body.

Penelope Clearwater leaned against her pillow, with Percy sitting beside her, clutching a visitor list.

"Hermione is right. The mirror saved us, and the anonymous clues saved us too."

Hermione immediately turned her head. "Where is that paper?"

Harry took the information sheet and two crumpled papers out of his school bag.

The first one had written: Chamber of Secrets, Heir of Slytherin, Girls Bathroom, Parseltongue.

The second was more direct: Basilisk, pipes, direct gaze equals death, mirror petrification.

Hermione spread the papers on the quilt, her eyes darkening.

Ron swallowed hard. "Don't look like that, I feel like I'm about to have to do homework again."

"The handwriting has been processed, the paper is ordinary, the ink is ordinary, but the information is exactly at the level we can investigate."

Hermione looked up. "The person who gave the clues wants us to investigate, but doesn't want to be discovered."

Harry said in a low voice: "Allen Potter warned me not to keep strange, writing things around."

Hermione pressed her finger on the corner of the paper. "When?"

"At the station when school started."

Harry thought for a moment. "He also told me not to let anyone see his letters, and when talking about the old house during the summer, he only said half of it."

Ron looked toward the door. "You suspect Allen?"

Hermione picked up the small mirror; its surface reflected her pale face.

She remembered in the Dueling Club, when the black snake Draco released slithered toward Justin Finch-Fletchley, Allen's sleeve had moved.

She remembered in Gilderoy Lockhart's class, the iron bolt thrown by the pixie veered away from his face.

She also remembered the blurry silver light Harry mentioned after the Philosopher's Stone incident.

"I suspect a user of Spatial Magic."

Hermione put down the mirror. "Allen Potter just happens to always be nearby."

Harry frowned. "But he saved me."

"And he also tampered with your memory."

The bedside became quiet.

At the same time, in the shadows by the window of the Library, Allen had "Mandrake Cultivation and Medicinal Recovery" spread out before him, but his eyes weren't on the book.

Nott sat opposite him, pushing a small piece of paper across.

"Granger is awake. The first thing she asked about was the Chamber of Secrets, the second was the silver light, and the third was linking the Troll, the Philosopher's Stone, and the Chamber of Secrets."

Allen finished reading, pressed down with his fingertips, and the paper folded into his sleeve.

"The reaction is faster than expected."

Nott tapped the table with his fingertips. "She also got the two anonymous clue papers and is comparing the handwriting. You gave them too accurately."

"If it's too slow, she'll die."

"If it's too accurate, she'll track you down."

Allen turned the page of the book. "That's why she's dangerous."

Nott looked at him for a moment. "You admire her."

"There are few smart people."

"Smart people are also troublesome."

"That's why I'm recording it."

Nott handed over a quill.

Allen wrote 'Granger' on the parchment, raising her threat level.

The list already included Harry, Draco, Snape, Dumbledore, and Lucius.

Hermione's name was placed below Snape and above Harry.

Nott scanned the order. "Higher than Harry?"

"Harry relies on intuition, Granger relies on evidence."

Allen closed the ink bottle. "Evidence bites."

At the other end of the Library, Madam Pince was shooing away excited lower-year students.

The news of the petrified victims waking up had spread throughout the Castle. Hufflepuffs surrounded Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ravenclaws surrounded Penelope Clearwater, and Gryffindors surrounded Hermione. Everyone wanted to hear the details of the Basilisk and wanted to tell others how close they had been to death.

The Slytherin table was piercingly quiet.

Draco held his History of Magic textbook, but hadn't taken in a single word.

"Granger will come looking for you."

"She will."

"Harry has already been here once."

"Hmm."

Draco closed the book. "Can't you say something that makes me feel at ease?"

Allen thought for a moment. "Snape passed by at nine o'clock."

Draco almost threw the book at him. "How is that reassuring?"

Zabini circled around from behind the bookshelf, holding two old yearbooks.

"When Snape was looking for you, Granger hadn't woken up yet. Once she tells her deductions to McGonagall or Dumbledore, the next round of questioning will be even harder."

Draco turned to Allen. "What did Snape ask this morning?"

"Whereabouts, shoes, wand, Chamber of Secrets, diary, Harry's memory."

Nott asked: "Legilimency?"

"He tried."

Draco pressed his hand against the edge of the table. "Why didn't you say so?"

"It wouldn't have helped to say it."

Zabini put away the yearbooks. "The result?"

Allen folded the parchment. "He saw me sleeping."

Draco stared at him, and after a long while, squeezed out a sentence: "Just how much sleep did you stuff into your brain?"

"Enough to use."

Nott turned his face away, holding back a laugh.

Hurried footsteps came from the entrance of the Library.

Hermione walked in wearing her school robes, her face still showing signs of illness, with Harry and Ron following behind.

Madam Pince said angrily: "Miss Granger, you just came out of the Hospital Wing!"

Hermione clutched her books. "I'm only investigating for ten minutes."

"You say that every time."

"This time it's eight minutes."

Ron whispered to Harry: "She's still bargaining after waking up, which means she's fine."

Hermione had already seen Allen.

She stopped between the bookshelves, and the small mirror in her sleeve reflected a bit of light, landing on the edge of Allen's table.

Draco stood up. "What do you want again?"

Hermione ignored him and looked at Allen.

"Last year's Troll, was it you?"

The Library went quiet.

Allen looked up. "You need to rest."

"Answer me."

Hermione took a step forward. "The club veered off, the magic at the back of the neck was severed, Quirrell was testing, and he was swallowed by a blank space. You were there at the time."

Draco's face turned pale. "Granger, you're talking nonsense."

"You're helping him cover it up, too."

Hermione turned to him. "That night on Halloween, he left the team, and you said he was sleeping behind the tapestry."

Ron's eyes widened. "Wait, you suspected him back then?"

Hermione ignored him.

"On the night of the Philosopher's Stone, there was silver light in Harry's memory, there was silver light in the Chamber of Secrets, and the anonymous clues pointed to the Girls Lavatory and the Basilisk."

She looked at Allen again. "Allen Potter, what exactly are you trying to do?"

Harry stood beside her, his lips pressed tight.

He wanted to ask too, but Hermione had delivered the knife to a more suitable position.

Allen closed the book.

"Granger, you just woke up, it's not appropriate to have conspiracy theories for breakfast."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Because the question is stupid."

Ron bristled on the spot. "Who are you calling stupid?"

Allen looked at him. "You."

Harry pulled Ron back, nearly knocking over a bookshelf.

Hermione, conversely, calmed down. "If I continue to investigate, will you tamper with my memory?"

Draco's face changed. "That's enough."

Allen's gaze fell on the small mirror in Hermione's sleeve.

"You would write down your suspicions first, give them to Harry, give them to McGonagall, or hide them in some book in the Library. Tampering with your memory would only leave more clues."

Hermione's fingers tightened.

This sentence was equivalent to admitting she was dangerous enough, and also told her that he knew how she would fight back.

Harry stepped forward. "So will you?"

Allen looked at him. "Don't make yourself a second time."

Harry's anger flared up. "What right do you have to decide for me?"

"By virtue of you being alive."

No one in the Library spoke.

Madam Pince stood behind the counter, the register in her hand remaining on the same page.

Hermione tucked the mirror into her sleeve. "I will investigate."

Allen nodded. "As you wish."

"I will find the person behind the silver light."

"Then bring the mirror."

Hermione paused.

Allen reopened his book. "In the corridors of Hogwarts, more than one snake has been hidden."

Harry wanted to say something, but Hermione held him back.

"Let's go."

Ron was unconvinced. "Just like that?"

"Let's go."

Hermione's voice was tight. "He just gave a warning."

After the three left, Draco sat back in his chair, his face looking terrible.

"Are you crazy? You even warned her?"

"She will continue to investigate."

Allen wrote the time on the edge of the page. "Letting her investigate while alive is better than dying in the next bit of trouble."

Nott looked at 'Granger' on the parchment, then toward the door.

"She might have already made you her target."

Allen put away his quill. "Targets see each other, so it's easier to calculate the distance."

Zabini tapped the spine of the book. "The next bit of trouble?"

Allen looked out the window.

The surface of the Black Lake reflected the silhouette of the Castle, and bird shadows swept past toward the Owlery.

In the Portable Space, the cracked pocket watch had been quiet for too long, quiet enough to make one uncomfortable.

"Azkaban."

Nott's fingertips paused on the table.

Draco frowned. "What are you talking about again?"

Allen closed his eyes, sleepiness pressing down on him.

"Before the holiday, Nott will have the answer."