Severus waited until after breakfast to call on the Weasleys. Draco had decided to have a lie-in for the morning, so it was just Harry and Severus when Severus headed towards a small lounge on the first floor and its enormous floo connection. Harry watched as his father took a pinch of powder and threw it in the fire. After announcing, “The Burrow”, he stuck his head into the bright green flames.

Molly was just cleaning up from breakfast, with Ginny beside her, when Severus’ head appeared in the floo behind her. She smiled at the professor as Ginny went white and nearly dropped the mug she was drying.

“Severus, it is good to see you again! How is Harry doing? Ron isn’t still being an idiot, is he?” she asked, her hand automatically going for the spoon tucked in her apron.

“He’s fine, Molly, and no, Ron is not a problem any longer. I actually need to speak with you and Arthur about something; may I step over?”

“Of course! Ginny go get your father, please. I believe he is out in his shed.” She turned around as the flames flared higher and the Potions master stepped through. As they waited for her daughter to return with Arthur, Molly poured out some tea for them, which Severus gratefully accepted.

Arthur Weasley stamped in through the kitchen door a few moments later, Ginny following, divesting themselves of warm wraps and snowy boots. Arthur also took a long sip of the fortifying liquid and Ginny made as if to leave the room to the adults, but a summons from her professor stopped her.

“Miss Weasley this concerns you, if you would have a seat.” He indicated the bench next to her parents across from him. The youngest Weasley turned back to the table slowly.

“Severus, is everything alright with Ginny’s class work? Are things that bad that you need to have a conference now?” Molly asked, concern etched into her face as her youngest warily took the seat.

“Her class work is fine, Molly. This has to do with a certain small diary that is in your daughter’s possession.” He turned to look at Ginny Weasley who was visibly shaken, her face colourless.

“Ginny?” Molly prompted.

Looking terrified, Ginny’s eyes darted from her parents to Professor Snape and back again, clearly frightened. “I – I threw it away!” she sputtered. “Before term ended. Honest, Professor! It was awful, Mum!” The small girl burst into tears as she buried her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Shhh, shhh,” Molly comforted. “It’ll be alright, sweetheart. What was so awful about this diary?”

Ginny lifted her head to stare at her mother with wide, anxious eyes. “It talked back! There were times where I couldn’t remember where I had been, or what I had done… One time I came back with chicken feathers all over my robes and what looked like blood – but I didn’t have any cuts on me! Right after that the message was found on the wall near the second-floor girls bathroom.”

“Myrtle’s bathroom?” Molly asked. “What message?”

Severus paraphrased, “‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, beware the Heir of Slytherin!’”

Molly gasped, then looked askance at the Potions master. “That’s an old wives tale, Severus; the Chamber never existed. Binns told us all about it when I was a student there. It’s just a legend to scare the students, all about some monster that Salazar Slytherin has guarding some imagined chamber of all his knowledge,” she insisted. “Poppycock!”

“Oh, I assure you, Molly, the Chamber is real and has been reopened,” he assured the sceptical Haus Frau, who only snorted to herself.

Ginny was nodding her head in agreement with her teacher, and kept going – trying to purge the entire story out of her system. “I was always finding myself near there without remembering going there at all,” she whispered. She finally looked over at the professor. “What is happening to me?” she pleaded as she began trembling again and her father placed a comforting arm around his youngest as well. Severus handed him a small vial of Calming Draught, which was one of the regular potions he kept stocked in his robes.

“Ginny, what have I told you about objects that talk to you?” he chided gently, handing the vial to his daughter, coaxing her to drink.

“‘Don’t trust anything, unless you can see where it keeps its brain’,” she murmured, after downing the draught. “But he was so sincere, and he listened about everything… but he kept asking odd questions, especially after I told him about Harry.”

“Like what, Miss Weasley?” Severus prompted. If this book had an interest in his son, he wanted to know why.

“He was really interested in Harry’s story,” she sniffled, finally gaining control over herself, the colour coming back to her cheeks as the potion took effect. “About how Harry had defeated You-Know-Who when he was barely one, and his adventures from last year and all. He was really interested in knowing he was your son, sir.”

“I see, and did this disembodied friend have a name?” Severus did not let his worry show on his face, but he really did not like this turn of events.

“Tom Riddle,” she whispered. Severus stayed quiet - although Arthur frowned at mention of the name - for Severus knew who Riddle was. Snape waited for the other shoe to drop, and it didn’t take long before Arthur’s mind provided the leather. The man turned to look at Severus with horror on his face and Snape only lifted an eyebrow and gave a slight nod.

“Ginny, honey, you say you threw the diary away?” Molly asked, ignoring the men. “Where did you get rid of it?”

”I flushed it down a toilet in Moaning Myrtles bathroom,” came the reply. Molly looked satisfied, but Severus wasn’t so sure they should be, knowing the tendency of the ghost to get perturbed at perceived slights. Ginny looked back up at her professor. “Sir, how did you find out it was me?”

“You have a good friend in Harry, Miss Weasley,” he said gently. “It was he who remembered last night that you had been writing in a strange diary, and that you were not acting the way a first-year should. He was quite worried for you; he knew what the diary was capable of and we’ve been trying to discover who had been letting the monster loose.” Ginny gave a slight upturn of her lips when she realised Harry was concerned about her, but it was quickly supplanted by guilt as she remembered she was the one responsible for the attacks.

“Tell him ‘thank you’ for me, would you please?” she asked quietly.

“I will, Miss Weasley. He’ll be glad to know the diary is no longer affecting you,” he assured her.

She nodded her head then asked the question uppermost on her mind. “Am I to be expelled, sir?”

“Whatever for, Miss Weasley?”

But before she could answer, her father jumped in instead. “Severus, what has been going on? What monster? This is the first I’ve heard of this!” Arthur demanded.

“I’m afraid your daughter has been possessed by the spirit that lived in the diary,” he explained. “She has unwittingly loosed a basilisk on several occasions, which hasn’t killed – but only by sheer luck. Nevertheless, she is not to be held responsible, and thus will not be expelled,” he assured the frightened first-year. “The spirit has duped many people in the past, and may yet again in the future. You see we were warned that a diary, containing a way to open the Chamber of Secrets, had been snuck into the school. The diary had originally belonged to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and was secreted on a student by Lucius Malfoy.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at this reveal, and he balled up his left fist as if ready for another fight with the aristocrat. “That fight, in Flourish and Blotts! Why that conniving little…”

“Indeed, Weasley,” Severus calmed. “You and your family were set-up. I’m sure Lucius would have thought it funny that the daughter of a ‘Blood-Traitor’,” he used his fingers to make quote marks in the air, “was letting loose a creature reportedly guaranteed to go after muggle-borns. I’m just thankful that your daughter finally had the presence of mind to get rid of the damned book. Do not go looking for it again, Miss Weasley! I can’t impress upon you enough, how dangerous doing so would be! You were being possessed by the Dark Lord himself.”

Ginny, who had regained some colour, lost all of it again at this statement, and her freckles shown starkly against the parchment white of her skin. “I won’t, Professor, I never want that feeling again!” she insisted. Molly clutched her daughter as if she was going to lose the girl right then, and Ginny, feeling vulnerable, didn’t put up a protest, but huddled in her mother’s arms.

Severus soon took his leave of the Weasleys and headed off to Hogwarts to report his findings to Dumbledore.

****

Dumbledore and Snape headed for the second-floor girls bathroom and discovered it had been flooded once again. Myrtle was moaning away in a corner when they entered, misery etched on her transparent face.

Severus was all for banishing the sobbing spirit, but Dumbledore motioned him to be quiet.

“Myrtle,” he softly called, walking slowly toward her alcove.

“Who – who’s there?” came the moist reply. She peeked out from behind her fingers, and saw Dumbledore.

“Oh, it’s you, Professor,” she sniffed, lowering her hands. “You aren’t supposed to be in here, you know; it’s a girls bathroom,” she said pointedly.

“I know Myrtle, and we will leave soon, I promise you,” he assured her. “Myrtle, a young girl was in here yesterday, prior to the students leaving, and she threw a book…”

“Right through my head!” the spirit screamed. Severus winced slightly at the sound as it nearly pierced his eardrums. “I was just sitting in the U-bend when it came crashing down the pipes! I was so mad, I exploded the toilet all over the room!” She whirled in place, diaphanous school robes flaring around her as she indicated the sodden floor.

“Yes, I see!” Albus said with a wry grin in place. “Do you know where the book is now?”

“Uh, huh…” Myrtle was losing interest quickly in the conversation, as she had really liked the way her robes had billowed when she twirled; she began pirouetting around the room, eyeing herself in the mirrors as she flashed past them. Severus was quickly losing his temper.

“Where is the book, you anno…” he modified his words and tone of voice after a glare from Dumbledore, “… ah, Myrtle?”

“Oh, it flew over there somewhere…” She motioned with her hand towards a rear stall and Snape moved as if to go to it. “But it’s not there anymore,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Severus counted to ten – slowly – before turning around to ask the obvious, “Where is it now?”

“A student came in, found it and took it,” she stated, continuing to twirl around, her head cocked to the side, watching as her hair streamed around as well.

“Which student!” Snape nearly yelled in frustration. That stopped her in mid-turn and she flew down to hover in front of him.

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?” she screamed at him. “Do you expect me to know every student that comes in here? I’ve been here for fifty years; I don’t keep track of them! I wasn’t even paying attention; I was contemplating my death. Some girl came in here and when she left, the book was gone. Oh, nobody cares about me,” she groaned in self-pitying tones, “and how I feel about this! I’m just old boring, moaning, miserable Myrtle. Nothing can hurt me, because I’m a ghost!” She turned away and started to drift, the sobs starting up again. Before she could get a good head of steam going, the headmaster stopped her one last time.

“Myrtle, was this before or after the students had left for the trains?”

“Before!” she cried, then dived into the nearest stall, nearly splashing them with her exit.

Severus looked over at Dumbledore, disgusted. “Well, old man, we are back to where we started!”

“Indeed we are, Severus. Although, we do know what the diary looks like, so we can at least spread the word amongst the Prefects, when the children return, as to what we are looking for. In the meantime, you have two boisterous teens at your home, and I’m sure you need to get back to them.” Dumbledore popped a sweet in his mouth from one of his cavernous pockets, and smiled knowingly at Severus.

Snape ignored his superior, rubbed his hands over his face in frustration and nodded. “Yes, I do. But we can’t let this go, Albus, we need to find out who has that diary!”

“We will, my boy. We will.” Dumbledore led his Potions master away from the wet bathroom, and up to his office so that Severus could floo to his manor.

****

“Ginny doesn’t have it anymore?” Harry asked incredulously as they all sat around the kitchen table for lunch. Draco had finally woken up and was just joining them for his first meal of the day.

Severus shook his head. “And it wasn’t in the bathroom when the headmaster and I went to check. Myrtle indicated someone else came in and took it before the carriages left, but she didn’t see whom.” He dug into his own portion of meat pie savouring the textures and spices as they rolled over his tongue. “For now,” he continued, “we’ll manage as we have been. Whoever has it can’t get into the school right now, so let’s enjoy the break – shall we?”

The boys readily agreed, and when lunch was over they kitted themselves out in warm cloaks and knitted accessories to trudge out to the evergreen grove.

“Do we cut the tree down like Muggles?” Harry asked his father as they hiked through the knee-deep drifts. He could almost hear Draco roll his eyes at his question, but his brother gratefully remained silent.

“No, we use magic to transplant the tree into a pot of earth. However, we do need to decide upon which tree would be best,” he explained. “Here we are. Alright gentlemen, start looking for likely looking trees.”

Harry and Draco wandered along the gently sloping hillside looking at all the trees, dismissing several as too short, some as too tall, too narrow or too fat. Harry was despairing until he came upon a tree a little further up on the hillside, set aside from all the others. It seemed perfect, so he called his family over. Severus eyed the tree suspiciously.

“I wonder,” he said aloud as he parted the branches nearly two-thirds the way up the tree and peered in at the trunk. “Come see this, boys,” he beckoned, and Harry and Draco joined him. “Do you see that piece of ribbon?” Harry came closer to where his father was standing and peeked in to espy a red and green ribbon that seemed as fresh as the day it was tied to the trunk. “That, Harry, was placed there by your mother the year we were married. It’s enchanted so that it expands as the tree grows and will never fall apart. She said she wanted to know this tree from all the others when it came time to bring it in for Christmas. She planted it as a seedling thirteen years ago. I think it is quite apropos that you have chosen it for our tree this year.”

Harry felt a warmth in the core of his being as the story was told. “Dad, maybe we shouldn’t move it; will it be alright?”

“It will be perfectly fine, Son, and we will return it to this spot before we return to the School.” Harry was satisfied with this answer and stepped back to stand next to his brother, who gave his shoulder a squeeze, before putting a companionable arm around his shoulders.

Draco realised what a special occasion this was for Harry, who’d never been allowed to participate in the Christmas celebrations where he used to live. And then to find his mother’s tree? If Draco had been an emotional sort, he would have had to wipe away a few tears. As it was, he drew out his handkerchief and blew his nose. Really, the cold air was getting to him.

The boys watched as Severus used a spell to bundle the tree, then place an ornament on it. Harry was confused until he saw his father aim a spell at the small object and the tree vanished, leaving a large gaping hole in earth. Severus conjured a tarp and laid this over the hole, weighting down the edges with large boulders.

“There, that will keep the elements and larger animals out of the hole until we return the tree. Shall we head back?”

The trio of wizards retraced their pathway back to the manor where Runeskin greeted them with large mugs of hot, minty chocolate and plates of holiday biscuits. The house-elf had already brought up several boxes of holiday decorations, and the rest of the afternoon and evening were spent going through the various oddments and decorating the large parlour that they were going to use for their holiday festivities.

Harry had never strung popcorn and berries, or been allowed to hang ornaments on the tree; and he had never, ever been allowed to place the star on the top! Severus encouraged all of these activities and even levitated Harry so he could use his wand to light the star. Then Severus nox-ed the lights, and with a murmured incantation, lit the everlasting candles on the tree, guaranteed to never burn down, or burn the tree. By this time the two boys were in their pyjamas, dressing gowns and slippers and were ensconced in front of the floo gazing up at the magnificent tree.

“It’s so beautiful, Dad,” Harry whispered, as he let his head rest on his brother’s shoulder.

“Indeed it is, son, indeed it is,” Severus agreed.