Chapter 350 – Heading to the Secret Room
Cedric Diggory was someone Harry had known of for quite some time—though only recently had he begun to pay real attention to him, ever since Draco had brought up the name.
Cedric was a Hufflepuff student. Handsome—though still a notch below Alexander Smith, in Harry's admittedly biased opinion—but undeniably good-looking.
More importantly, he was talented.
Cedric excelled at Transfiguration and was also a strong Quidditch player. As a Seeker, he had sharp eyesight and steady nerves, and it was said he had once even managed to spot Dudley during a match.
According to Draco, Cedric was also surprisingly skilled at repairing broomsticks, even capable of making simple modifications himself.
"I know him too," Ron said suddenly.
"As you all know, my home is near Ottery St. Catchpole, in Devon," Ron continued casually.
"Why are you bringing that up?" Harry interrupted. "We've been there. Didn't you say Fred and George fancied a girl who worked in a Muggle paper shop there? You said she was really beautiful."
Ron rolled his eyes. "That's not the point. The wizarding families nearby include the Weasleys, the Fawcetts, the Diggorys, and the Lovegoods."
"So you're neighbors," Draco said, his interest immediately piqued.
"Fawcett?" Harry muttered, momentarily distracted as a memory surfaced—of a senior witch from Ravenclaw who had once kissed him hard on the cheek.
"I suppose," Ron said slowly, then narrowed his eyes. "But Harry… why have you been paying so much attention to girls lately?"
"That's the Fawcett I meant," Ron added dryly.
Then, without warning, he leaned closer. "And stay away from Ginny lately."
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
"Ginny?" he asked, forcing an innocent expression. "Why bring her up all of a sudden?"
"We're still waiting for you to talk about Diggory," Ron replied.
Harry felt a flicker of guilt. Recently—when Ron wasn't paying attention—he and Ginny had exchanged a few lingering looks, even shared quiet smiles. But he kept his face calm.
"I just meant I know Diggory too," Ron continued. "I even know his home address."
"If Flint wants to send dungbombs to his house for Christmas, I can help," Ron added with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head.
Harry let out a quiet breath of relief, though the sight of Ron scratching made him uncomfortable.
He briefly considered telling Ron to stop—it ran in the family, after all. Mr. Weasley was already bald in that exact spot.
"By the way," Harry said, shaking off the thought, "Draco, you still haven't explained why you know so much about magical creatures."
"Yeah!" Hagrid chimed in immediately, finally finding an opening.
Draco cleared his throat. "I thought you'd already figured it out, Ron."
"You should know that your father works at the Ministry of Magic," Draco continued. "And he's neighbors with the Diggorys."
Ron frowned. "Their family's… how should I put it? Diggory's dad seems decent enough, but he likes showing off—his son, his job, all of it."
"So my dad doesn't talk about them much."
Ron paused, then asked, "What does that have to do with this?"
"Because Flint plans to go after Diggory's father," Draco said flatly.
"Cedric's dad is Amos Diggory. He works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"Lately, magical creature smuggling has been getting out of hand. Flint wants to exploit that—acquire creatures that can cause trouble, sabotage Amos Diggory's work, and throw Cedric off his game."
"If Cedric quits Quidditch altogether because of family pressure," Draco added with a sneer, "even better."
Disdain flickered across his face.
"In my opinion, it's a troublesome and despicable method—and it might not even work."
A waste of effort. And deeply offensive.
Yet, unfortunately, this sort of tactic was common in Slytherin.
Draco understood once again why the house had always carried such a terrible reputation.
Even before Voldemort's rise.
"So that's why…" Harry murmured.
"You've even started reading books on magical creatures?" he asked in disbelief.
Hagrid muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'bloody Slytherins'.
"If you put that effort into training," he grumbled, "no team could stand against you."
"You lost to Gryffindor because you didn't train enough," Ron said bluntly.
"It wasn't just me," Draco replied quietly. "All of us read it."
"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," he added. "It's comprehensive—and useful as preparation."
Draco looked at Harry. "Ron, I've answered this before."
"Flint said we should focus on what we're good at, instead of spreading ourselves thin."
He smiled bitterly.
"Merlin's beard," Harry breathed. The others echoed him.
Late that night, in a silent corridor of Hogwarts, Tom Riddle walked beside Albus Dumbledore.
"It seems Harry didn't dream of anything," Riddle said calmly.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "Hagrid mentioned the Triwizard Tournament to him. If that is truly relevant—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
"Did you notice," Dumbledore said slowly, "that I seemed… absent for a moment just now?"
Riddle glanced at him. "But—?"
Dumbledore frowned.
Was it an illusion?
His intuition told him otherwise.
"You're asking me?" Riddle said lightly.
"If we're discussing destructive spellcraft, I might qualify as an expert."
"But intuition?" He smiled faintly. "Do you truly think someone as incomplete as me can rival you in that?"
A spider scurried across the floor.
Riddle flicked his wand.
Green light flashed.
"Look," he said softly. "The spiders are fleeing the castle."
He extended his hand. An invisible force hooked the spider and pulled it into his palm.
"Is it the basilisk you mentioned?" he asked.
"Time… Chronos?" Dumbledore murmured.
"Has He turned His gaze toward the basilisk?"
"Tom," Dumbledore said at last, "can you tell me where the Chamber of Secrets is now?"
His hands traced strange symbols in the air, as if performing an ancient ritual.
A moment later, a name surfaced.
Riddle sighed and began descending the staircase, Dumbledore following.
"There are two reasons I never said anything," Riddle explained.
"First—the basilisk was meant to be a defense mechanism. The story that it existed to purge unworthy students is nonsense."
He paused. "I was afraid you'd harm it."
Dumbledore lifted his wand, and both of them rose gently into the air, floating downward.
"Unusual magic," Dumbledore murmured.
"Second," Riddle continued, "there's no need for further explanation."
They stopped in front of the abandoned girls' bathroom on the third floor.
"We're here."
Riddle rubbed his temples. "I don't want people thinking my ancestor was a pervert."
"I thought it was in the basement," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered speeding up earlier. Let's see what excuse you come up with."
He waved his wand again, and their feet touched the ground.
Dumbledore glanced at Riddle, smiling mischievously.
As for the basilisk…
Perhaps it was a good thing they wouldn't encounter that mysterious wizard just yet.
(End of Chapter)...
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