Chain Reaction

The first week of term passed quickly amid a flood of rumors. Now Harry was once again receiving the treatment he had gotten last year after accidentally revealing himself as a Parselmouth in Professor Lockhart's dueling club. Wherever he went, he could feel people secretly watching him and whispering ominously.

Among those prying looks, there was sympathy, but also gloating. Even within Gryffindor, things were no different.

Of course, Harry was not too surprised by this. Ever since Seamus had told him on Monday night that Hufflepuff's Ernie Macmillan had finally learned from Professor Sprout why Amosta Breen, whom they had seen at the start-of-term feast, had come to Hogwarts, Harry had expected it.

The garlic bulbs, warding charms, and protective talismans that had been popular for a time last term had once again swept through the school. Fortunately, the one consolation was that Neville was not wearing his amethyst necklace around his neck this time.

The person Harry hated most was still Draco Malfoy.

After Potions Class on Wednesday afternoon, Harry was about to storm out of the classroom with the assignment Snape had marked "D" in his hand when Goyle and Crabbe stood in the doorway, blocking the way. Given their size, it was nearly impossible for anyone to force their way past.

Harry turned and coldly stared at Draco, who was sitting on his desk with a nasty grin. "Tell your two idiot lackeys to move aside, Malfoy, unless you want to see them chopped into little pieces and stuffed into jars!"

Malfoy's smile grew more mysterious, and the inexplicable pity in his eyes only made Harry burn with greater anger. "Speaking of being chopped into little pieces, Potter—"

Malfoy lifted his pointed chin and drawled in his usual affected tone.

"I suddenly feel a little sorry for you, Potter. I thought the worst ending for you would be spending the rest of your life in Azkaban as a Dementor's neighbor, but now I can't be so sure. I think perhaps someone might chop you into pieces and send you to Professor Sprout as fertilizer for her Mandrakes!"

"He's been threatening people like that lately, Harry."

Neville, standing beside Harry, had gone red in the face. "That's exactly what he said to me in the Great Hall at noon."

"And you actually let Malfoy walk out of the Great Hall alive, Neville? That's unbelievable." Ron's face had turned blue with anger as he pulled out his tape-bound wand and pointed it at Malfoy. "Want to see who turns into fertilizer first, Malfoy?"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, plus two days' detention, Weasley."

Snape, who had been packing up at the front of the classroom and pretending not to see the conflict, strolled over and lazily stared at Ron. "I hope this teaches you a lesson, Weasley. In my classroom, you are not permitted to point your wand at a fellow student."

The outcome of that conflict left Harry in a foul mood for several days, and he was off his game during Quidditch practice as well. Because of Harry's absence from last year's final, Wood was especially worried.

"If you want to catch the culprit and prove your innocence, Harry, could you please wait until after the final before starting your plan?"

"Wood shouldn't have said that to you, Harry. This isn't your fault!"

On Sunday evening in the Hospital Wing, Hermione spoke indignantly after the dejected Harry repeated Wood's words to her.

"You can't blame him entirely either, Hermione. Fred and George told me that Wood wants to join Puddlemere United as a professional Quidditch player after graduation. Leading Gryffindor to the championship means a great deal to him. And unfortunately, Wood is already in his sixth year. This year or next year will be his last chance."

Ron spoke a few fair words for Wood, which only made Harry feel even guiltier.

"But he can't blame Harry for their inability to win, Ron. Why can't he look for the problem in himself?"

Hermione said angrily, folding her arms across her chest.

Ron shrugged and wisely shut his mouth.

All three of them knew that as long as Slytherin's heir had not been caught, Harry's current situation was unlikely to improve. And that was precisely the hardest part. Otherwise, the Board of Governors would not have specifically sent someone into Hogwarts to handle the matter.

Most of the cat features on Hermione's face and body had faded, so she was no longer so self-conscious about her appearance. She threw back her blankets and climbed out of bed, pacing the room with a furrowed brow as she considered how to help Harry clear up people's misunderstandings.

Several Gryffindor students could be heard outside the door, all people Harry and the others knew: Neville, Ginny, Pettigrew, and Lavender.

They were negotiating with Madam Pomfrey, hoping to come in and visit Hermione. The rumor that Hermione had also been attacked and petrified had not yet been dispelled, but Madam Pomfrey firmly refused them.

Hermione looked toward the door, her expression no longer so stern. No matter what, her friends' concern moved her deeply.

"Perhaps we could ask Mr. Breen for help."

Hermione stared at the doorknob for a long time. For some reason, Amosta Breen, whom she had met only once, suddenly came to mind. Setting aside the prejudices between Houses, Hermione honestly had a good impression of that gentle young wizard. At the very least, he was polite and considerate.

"Have you gone mad, Hermione?"

Ron puffed out his cheeks in shock. "Have you forgotten that Harry's current situation was caused by this Investigator?"

"That isn't his fault, Ron," Hermione said imperiously. "Mr. Breen merely entered the school under the Board of Governors' orders to investigate the Chamber of Secrets. It's his duty, but that doesn't mean he will necessarily target Harry, does it?"

Hermione was quite satisfied to see that her words had plunged the two of them into thought. She looked at Harry, whose brow was tightly furrowed, and continued questioning him.

"So, Harry, as far as you know, has Mr. Breen taken any substantial action?"

"That's exactly the problem, Hermione!"

Ron answered for Harry. "A lot of people thought our Investigator would surely launch some unprecedented operation—like mobilizing everyone to search the castle, or calling in every Slytherin student for questioning one by one. But so far, he's done nothing. He just stays in his office and never comes out, as if he came back to Hogwarts for a holiday. If you ask me, Hagrid must have gotten something wrong. Maybe the person who defeated Bill and Charlie was someone else!"

Harry also spoke with a troubled expression. "Fred and George told us that Mr. Breen never goes out at night. During the day, he only occasionally goes to the kitchen to get something to eat and take care of his personal needs."

That answer truly surprised Hermione. Standing at the foot of the bed, she frowned with her lips pressed tightly together, just like Professor McGonagall when she caught Gryffindor students wandering the corridors at night.

"Fred and George are monitoring Mr. Breen? I mean, they have classes during the day too. How can they know his movements so clearly?"

"I asked, but they wouldn't tell me!"

Ron said sulkily. "Fred told me it was the secret to their success. Hmph, apart from being good at avoiding Filch, I can't see what else they're successful at!"

Ron's assessment was not particularly fair. At least Harry thought Fred and George were quite good at making everyone laugh, especially with the joke products they occasionally brought out, which were very popular among the younger wizards and witches.

Discussing how Fred and George were monitoring Mr. Breen had drifted away from their original topic, and in any case, they were destined to get no answer.

At eight o'clock, Madam Pomfrey hurried over and drove the two of them out. On the way back to the Gryffindor common room, Ron complained nonstop that Hermione would not share her Potions Class homework, but Harry was used to it. Generally speaking, Hermione would not let them copy a single word until they had finished their own work.

"If you can prove your innocence to Mr. Breen, Harry, then given the current situation, perhaps it would carry even more weight than Headmaster Dumbledore's words if he explained things to everyone in his capacity as Investigator!"

Standing before the Fat Lady portrait and recalling Hermione's advice, Harry hesitated.