If he could, Harry would rather never have discovered the correct way to read the notebook in his schoolbag. Then he would not have had to face this headache of a problem before him.
"Riddle may have found the wrong person."
Hermione's expression was often remarkably similar to Professor McGonagall's. Or rather, the two of them were the same type of Gryffindor. Right now, Hermione's pursed lips looked exactly like Professor McGonagall's expression whenever Seamus caused another explosion in Transfiguration class, or Neville injured himself again.
"Maybe another monster was the one hurting people."
"How many monsters do you think this place can hold, Hermione?" Ron asked listlessly.
Harry could fully understand Hermione's desire to defend Hagrid, but he feared that even she herself could not believe the flimsy excuses she had come up with.
"I should have known this would have something to do with Hagrid." Harry stared gloomily at the crackling fireplace.
"Remember, Ron? During Christmas break, when Hagrid found out that Professor Breen had returned to school as the Investigator for the Chamber of Secrets incident—his reaction. I thought something was wrong back then. But I assumed Hagrid only knew some secrets about the Chamber of Secrets."
The three of them fell silent. After a long, awkward lull, Hermione finally raised the most difficult question.
"Do you think we could ask Hagrid about these things?"
"That would surely be a pleasant visit," Ron said with a curl of his lip.
"How are we supposed to ask him, Hermione? Are we meant to say—hello, Hagrid, tell us, did you release some savage, huge, furry monster into the castle last term?"
Another oppressive silence descended. This time, Harry broke it.
"At noon today, Professor Breen said he'd gone to visit Hagrid. But as far as I know, the two