Beats me," Ron shrugged. "You could always… you know, talk to McGongall? She is our Head of House."
Harry hesitated, thinking back to the previous year. McGonagall had not believed them when they'd told her somebody was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. It seemed unlikely she was going to be all ears if he charged in and told her that Snape had been the one to open the Chamber of Secrets.
But, what if she did believe him? Then…
"No," he decided. "It has to be Dumbledore. Only Dumbledore."
"Why?" Ron asked, following him back down the spiral staircase. "McGonagall's his deputy, isn't she? Surely she's better than no body."
"I just… can't," Harry told him.
"You're worried about what'll happen to Snape, aren't you?" Ron realised.
Harry said nothing.
"You are, aren't you?! Harry you shouldn't–"
" –He's still my guardian," Harry snapped, stopping on the stairs and turning to face Ron, who almost barrelled into him. "And he's been… good to me. He hasn't done anything to hurt me…"
"Yet," Ron commented.
Exhaling, Harry turned back down the stairs again and reaching the bottom, he took off at a run across the courtyard.
"Harry! Now where are you going!?" Ron called after him, though he made no move to follow.
"To Hagrid's!" he called over his shoulder. "Go to breakfast! I'll see you in class!"
"'Ello Harry! What brings you 'ere?" Hagrid smiled, standing aside to let Harry into his hut.
"I uh…" Harry began.
Hagrid pulled out a chair for him to sit on, and going to stand by the fire, where he appeared to be brewing some sort of nettle tea – it looked revolting of course, but when Hagrid produced two mugs and set them down on the table in front of him, Harry knew better than to refuse.
"Hagrid, I was wondering if you knew where Professor Dumbledore was?" he asked eventually, when the man sat down opposite him.
"Perfesser– Don't tell me you 'aven't 'eard?!" Hagrid cried.
"Heard? Heard what?" Harry frowned.
"Perfesser Dumbledore… 'e's… gone," Hagrid told him, and for a moment Harry wondered if the half-giant was going to burst into tears. "Suspended!"
"Sus…pended?" Harry repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
"S'terrible! I told Fudge! I said, there'll be killings next! But 'e wouldn't listen," he shook his head. "And Malfoy had got all twelve signatures, yer see. And they just… terrible business."
"Malfoy?" Harry asked, feeling both confused and incensed at the same time.
"I shouldn't have told yer that," Hagrid groaned. "Should not have told you that…"
"Hagrid, you have to tell me," he urged, putting down his mug and leaning in. "What do you mean Malfoy?"
Hagrid hesitated for a moment and then sighed, resigning himself to telling Harry the things he knew he probably shouldn't.
"Lucius Malfoy. His son is–"
"–Draco," Harry finished.
Hagrid nodded. "'E's on the board of guv-ners, fer the school, yer see. What wi' all the attacks… 'e said they've lost faith in Perfesser Dumbledore and tha' was tha'."
"But they can't suspend him," Harry breathed.
"S'done. And Perfesser Dumbledore, 'e was only 'ere telling Fudge… stopping him from…" Hagrid began. "Well… 'e was tryin' ter find out who was behind it all! Withou' Perfesser Dumbledore, things'll get worse and worse, you mark my words. Unless they find out who's behind these attacks… well…. Hogwarts might not be 'ere much longer."
Harry swallowed hard.
If Professor Dumbledore was gone, then so too was his only hope of getting to the bottom of what he'd seen in that diary.
For the first time in a long time, Harry simply sat there.
Because he didn't know what else to do.In that time, there had been another attack at the school – this one fatal. A third year Hufflepuff girl – muggleborn, of course – who had wandered off alone after dinner one evening was found dead in the girl's bathrooms. No body knew what had happened, and perhaps most worrying of all, even Moaning Myrtle had nothing to say about it. In fact, the ghost had refused to say anything since.
Hogwarts was a thoroughly miserable place to be right then – Quidditch was cancelled, students were to be escorted everywhere, and the mood in the corridors was sombre at best. With the most recent attack, there were whispers too – Dumbledore had already been suspended, and things weren't looking much better under McGonagall's temporary leadership. Naturally, students began to wonder how much longer the school would remain open.
That presented a problem for Harry.
Where would he go? Would he be able to return to the Dursleys? Would they even agree to take him back?
One thing was for certain, he wouldn't be able to return to Spinner's End. Not now.
Thing were growing ever more fractious between himself and Ron too, as the redhead continued to pile pressure on him to tell somebody what he had seen in the diary – tell them about Snape.
Truth be told, Ron had hit the nail on the head that day, on the astronomy tower. Despite everything he had seen, everything he thought he knew, the thought of telling somebody that his guardian might be behind the attacks terrified Harry. Dumbledore would have known would to do – would have handled it. But McGonagall? Surely she'd go straight to the Ministry, and then what would happen to Snape?
Why do you care? A voice inside his head kept asking him. If he is behind the attacks, why are you protecting him?
Harry knew, and didn't know, all at the same time.
He knew he needed to distance himself from the man, to protect himself. He didn't want to be hurt again, and yet it wasn't physical hurt he was afraid of.
He also knew that, despite everything, he didn't want to see anything bad happen to Snape. And truly, if the man really was behind the attacks, Harry knew that was ludicrous.
Yet, it would feel like too big of a betrayal.
To Harry, who had come to value loyalty, friendship and found family above all else, it would feel as though he was betraying his…
His what?
He'd battled that thought back in his own mind for several days, tried not to think about it, but it wouldn't go away.
Despite the pressure from Ron and the fear all around him, Harry couldn't bring himself to betray his father.