Rufus Scrimgeour sat behind his desk at the Academy, fuming in frustration. He'd been called to a meeting by Amelia Bones and Hugo Savage. Several of the school governors and Wizengamot members were there as well, along with a pair from the dept of mysteries.

The Headmaster ... aka the Head of the Wizengamot ... had not been happy to be there, but there was no getting around having to finally explain about the student who had been petrified, as well as the incident with the message from "the Heir".

The teachers having thought the 'message' might have been a hoax or prank done in poor taste was understandable, but with the following attack on a student – a muggleborn student at that ... the danger was obvious.

Never the less, to Rufus' disgust the Headmaster managed to convince them that he and 'certain select individuals' were investigating and would get to the bottom of it. Amelia had not been as impressed as Albus would have liked, insisting that the castle needed to be searched. Hugo agreed with her.

Albus had countered with the protest that that would disrupt the students far too much. The Governors had sighed and said that the castle had been searched extensively many times in the past – and had been gone over inch by inch fifty years ago after the last 'unfortunate event'. Hugo had been a part of that search and reluctantly agreed that perhaps it would be no use.

Cornelius had hesitantly asked if the 'perpetrator' of the last event had been questioned. The other Wizengamot members had looked at Albus expectantly. Albus had insisted that the 'last event' had been a mistake, and that the spider had likely not been guilty of the killing. Arguing had ensued and finally they had all agreed that if there was another incident 'steps would have to be taken'.

Albus had nodded reluctantly, but had managed to say that once the mandrakes had matured and the antidote brewed that the unfortunate Colin Creevey would be able to reveal the guilty party. This seemed to reassure an alarming number of the people in the room, and Rufus had felt his blood pressure skyrocket.

The people from the Department of Mysteries had listened to all this with interest, but had had little to add. All the information they had on the Chamber of Secrets was from information they had from Hogwarts in the first place.

Now Rufus sat, helpless in the Academy. The only thing he was allowed to do at present was to oversee the training of these bright-eyed little twits. He shook his head, no – he knew that it was a great responsibility to see to it that the Auror Corps had well-trained right-minded Aurors.

Rufus stood and went to the window that overlooked the large dueling area. He watched them absently for a time. He snorted as he saw the rainbow – haired Tonks girl pop into her Cheetah form, charging her unnerved apponent, knocking him down. She popped back into herself, standing over him with her wand in her hand. A wiley one, he mused.

He hoped that shifty lad she was seeing didn't turn her dark. With Snape and Malfoy as his mentors he was as doomed as the poor Potter boy, he was sure.

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Severus and Tom walked quietly past the trail that would have led to the tumble-down shack that had belonged to the Gaunts. They knew the Riddle house was just up the lane from it, but didn't have co-ordinates, so here they were, hiking up the road in the snow.

The students would be leaving for home in just a few days, and Tom wanted this farce that Yvane was insisting on be done with so Christmas would not be ruined. Not that he minded the idea of yelling insults and obscenities at his father's grave - that didn't bother him. He just didn't see the use of it.

Tom glanced at Severus, a bit irritated. Severus had insisted in coming with him, saying that he shouldn't have to make the journey alone, as if he was a hysterical Hufflepuff.

A run-down Manor finally appeared. Broken gates at the bottom of the drive said 'Riddle Manor'. So, Tom sighed, they had found it. A small gatehouse beside the gates looked occupied – there must be a caretaker.

They disillusioned themselves to move past it and went further into the grounds, on down the drive and past a small church - eventually finding their way into the large family cemetery. Snow was lightly falling through the air masking the disrepair and making it almost pretty. They eventually found a large gravestone with 'Thomas Riddle – beloved son' and birth and death dates on it.

Tom stood frozen in front of it, emotions suddenly roiling inside. Severus looked at him keenly. "You have the portkey to bring you back to Hogwarts ... are you sure you will be alright, alone?"

Tom nodded, anxious to not let one of his mentors see him so undone. Severus nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort. Tom's chest abruptly felt like it was in a vise, and he fought the urge to fling his arms around Severus and beg to be taken back to the school.

Instead he patted the hand and said, "Thanks, I'll be alright." He was surprised at how comforting the hand had felt and he steadied himself after he heard the crack of apparition signaling Severus' departure. Tom could feel Yvane's soothing presence in the back of his head. He squared his shoulders, might as well get this farce over with, then.

Tom looked at the headstone again, feeling the anger swell. "Beloved Son?" Tom was almost startled to hear his own voice bark the words out. "What about beloved husband? That idiot mother of mine did love you ... you self-centered ass!"

Tom ran a hand through his hair, it did feel good to say that out loud. "She loved you, and even if you didn't love her, you should have not have deserted her – and I - to die in the streets as you did."

Tom could still feel the same knife-edge of betrayal he'd felt the first time he'd realized his father had abandoned he and his mother to an impoverished fate. Yes, there were shelters and orphanages, but many of them were barely better than the streets.

"You were rich, you could have provided for us, even if you did divorce her." Tom's gaze stabbed at the huge manor house. "You could have kept us easily on what you likely spent on shoes every month. I'd have understood ... she did trick you ... I wouldn't have blamed you for divorcing her ..." Tom found himself breathing rapidly in agitation, and forced himself to slow his breaths. "You still should not have rejected me - I was your son ... you could have had a line on your headstone that read 'beloved father' ... you might still be alive if you hadn't tossed me away ..."

Tom once again wondered if Riddle Sr had offered any explanation – had shown any signs of regret when confronted by the young Voldemort. If Tom had a chance to ask Voldemort two questions, they would be : How could you have been so stupid? And : What did our father have to say for himself?

There was a marble bench nearby and Tom collapsed on that. "Did you hate magic so very much? I suppose having a love potion trap you into marriage wasn't a good way to introduce you to it." Tom barked a short laugh devoid of any humor. "But I was yours, didn't you understand that? You never married or had any other children, couldn't you have at least checked on me? Didn't your parents wonder about me?"

Tom shook his head. These questions had swirled in the back of his head for years. Speaking them out loud did make it easier to realize that they would likely never be answered.

Tom wasn't sure there was any forgiveness in him for his father, but most of the hate was gone. Much of the hate had sprung from a terrible longing for family, and when he'd known his father was out there the longing had turned into a bitter hate, knowing that he could have had it, if his father hadn't rejected him.

Tom sat on the bench for awhile, letting his thoughts drift. "You're very quiet, Yvane." Tom said. "You usually have much to say about these things."

"This you needed to work out for yourself. I couldn't force any kind of peace-making or forgiveness on you. You had to work your way to it on your own." Yvane spoke quietly. "You might not feel forgiving at present, but confronting your rage like this is a first step."

Tom stood and walked up to the headstone again. Harry had cheerfully brought flowers to his parents grave. Harry had said that it had been hard to talk to people he didn't really know. Tom winced, knowing that his other self had been the one to rob Harry of his parents. Did he really have any right to point fingers?

Tom quickly conjured some flowers, and lay them on the base of the headstone. "You don't deserve them, but I guess I should be glad that not all of us get what we deserve." Tom pulled the portkey out and used it. It dropped him in front of Hogwart's Gates.

Severus was calmly sitting on a rock by them, reading a book – a strong warming charm wrapped around him. Tom laughed a bit hysterically, but was glad to see him. Severus calmly closed the book and walked up to him. Severus studied his face for a brief moment and wrapped and arm around him, pulling him into a hug. Tom leaned into the warmth of both the warming charm and the feeling of family.

Tom realized with a rush of relief that he did, after all have a family, now. He had a wonderful younger brother in Harry and an older brother/mentor in Severus. With them came Rosmerta, Petunia and Dudley along with Lucius and Draco – cousins and Aunts and Uncles. He really wasn't alone.

"Come along, Tom. We need to pack so we can go home." Severus soothed. Tom nodded eagerly. Yes, they would soon be home. And he would soon see Dora.

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Students crowded around the dueling platform eagerly. They were to leave for home on winter break in the morning, and the teachers had decided that instead of making fruitless attempts to teach the day before a vacation, that the afternoon could be spent introducing the dueling club.

Flitwick, Severus and Lucius had all sullenly accepted that Lockhart would get to run the club. The Headmaster was unsure if the curse would decide that the club was a part of the DADA or not – there at one time had been a dueling club that was considered part of the curriculum and run by the DADA teacher. It had been canceled after Grindelwald had been defeated. The school governors had – in the turmoil of the times – been persuaded that it 'encouraged violence in children'.

Flitwick was quite eager to form a dueling team to compete in interschool events. Lucius and Severus were hoping for a chance to hex Lockhart. All three of them had offered to assist with the club. Lockhart had been beamingly eager to have them 'help out'. Minerva had shaken her head in despair after he left and told them that the curse was likely to use the club to rid them of Lockhart – likely get him turned into a toad ... or a peacock.

Lucius had just brightly remarked in return to Minerva that he was needing to replace one of his peacocks that had recently died – and Lockhart already knew how to strut. Albus had looked at him sternly while the others had snickered.

They had tossed a coin as to who would 'face the famous Lockhart' on the dueling platform. Severus had won, to Lucius' disgust, so they had bet on whether Severus could defeat him with one shot – and a side bet as to whether he could do it with only using a defensive spell. Minerva had overheard them and complained ... that they had not let the other teachers in on the bet. The pot was now getting to a respectable amount.

Lockhart strode dramatically onto the platform, striking a gallant pose and proceeded to make a grandly boastful speech. Severus and Lucius looked at the numerous Slytherin males who were watching Lockhart speculatively. Severus growled in frustration. He did not need Lockhart teaching them to posture. They learned it quickly enough on their own.

Heather and Tom watched from far back, against a wall. Tom had told her this would be interesting. She guessed he meant that Professor Snape was going to knock the blonde idiot on his butt.

Lockhart introduced Professor Snape in condescending tones and that made Lucius grin. He had a side bet with Minerva that Severus wouldn't be able to resist using a hex or curse on Lockhart, instead of a defensive spell. Lockhart seemed determined to help Lucius win his bet.

Severus climbed the stairs and strode down the platform, a grim look on his face. Harry and Draco watched gleefully and quite a few girls looked worried for Lockhart, they knew Professor Snape and this particular look usually preceeded tears and even fainting from students.

Severus had debated long and hard on what to use on the blonde insult to higher education. He'd thought about vanishing a few bones, to avenge Harry but that would not be a defensive spell. After hearing Lockhart introduce him like he was a novice dueler Severus had indulged in a quick fantasy about unforgivables.

Severus shook his head, he wouldn't allow Lucius to win all his wagers so easily. Besides, he was determined to show Harry and the other students proper dueling and how an excellent defense could work into a rather good offense as well. A well cast Expelliarmus was one of the spells he most wanted Harry, Draco and Dudley to know. Tom had smirked and rolled his eyes whenever Severus had told him that. He intended to demonstrate how wrong Tom's perception was.

Severus and the blissfully oblivious Lockhart strode toward each other, the students and teachers watching avidly ... if only because they had money riding on this. Salutes were exchanged and then they turned and walked their ten paces apart and turned again. Severus assumed his classic dueling stance while Lockhart posed as if for a portrait. Lucius and Filius sneered ... well, at least Lockhart was facing the right direction and his wand was in the general direction of his opponent.

Lockhart counted cheerfully to three and Severus even gave him a couple of heartbeats and then cast at him, enunciating Expelliarmus carefully. He pushed a large amount of magic behind the spell, causing a wave of fiery red to race at Lockhart. The spell not only knocked his wand away, but lifted Lockhart up and threw him back a good ten feet through the air.

The younger years all laughed – or gasped in dismay that Lockhart might be hurt. The sixth and seventh years looked at Snape in sudden wary respect. That spell was supposed to just take the opponents weapon away – perhaps push them back a bit if they had a tight hold on the wand. This was different. Certain students who sneered about the 'potions monster' rethought their attitude.

The other professors looked at Snape in astonishment. They often forgot that Severus was not just the antisocial dungeon bat – that he had been a Death Eater at one time – and remembered exactly what that meant.

Lucius smiled in smug admiration. To cast a spell with such a visible spell trail and throw Lockhart such a distance with a simple Expelliarmus ... quite a feat, and a reminder of the power that the Potions Master had at his disposal – at least for those with the wit to understand how powerful Severus really was.

Tom's eyes widened and he felt a small thrill of fear ... he, at least understood what Severus had done. It opened up a wide range of possibilities. Defensive spells Tom would normally not consider would need to be looked at closer. He could take down an enemy without causing damage that would make Aurors say things like, "You're under arrest ..."

Harry had watched carefully. Dad had been right – a defensive spell like this could be very useful and serve a duel purpose – disarm and strike a blow to the enemy in one move. He whispered the incantation under his breath, trying to memorize the word and the wand movements.

Lockhart scrambled up, trying to not look flustered. He managed to imply that he'd known what was happening and could have blocked it at any time. At Severus' glare he abruptly called for a student pair "to try it out" and happily called Harry up to the platform.

Neville shoved past other students to follow Harry ... this was his chance. He and Callidora had been studying the clues and watching events carefully. She had remembered a spell – one that would put his theory to the test. When Lockhart looked around to choose a dueling partner he yelled he would do it before Lockhart could say anything.

"Ah, Longbottom, certainly." Lockhart said in confusion. He'd intended to curry a bit of favor with Malfoy by picking Draco, but the Longbottoms were an honorable pureblood house, after all, as well.

The two students saluted, Harry looking confused by Neville's baleful stare. He knew Neville had never really warmed up to him, but he'd thought they were past this animosity. They paced off and turned, and Neville nearly jumped the count to send off the first spell.

With Professor Snape watching him suspiciously he started with an innocuous spell – the rictusempra – and watched Harry fall back, giggling as the invisible hands tickled him. It didn't last long and Harry came back with his own spell.

Harry had been appalled to be taken by surprise like that. His dad was standing behind Neville with a lifted eyebrow, waiting for him to respond to the attack. He quickly took his best dueling stance and decided on one of Draco's favorite hexes. "Everte Statum!" The spell sizzled across the platform, looking like lightning. Harry knew he's cast it well, to be leaving such a brightly visible trail.

It hit Neville hard, raising him off the platform and spinning him around before dropping him hard on his butt. There was oohing and cheers, and Harry heard Draco's delighted laughter.

Neville sat still for a moment, stunned by much that had hurt. He'd expected to cast spells back and forth and work up to the spell Callidora had told him about. But this was alot more painful than he'd expected. Professor Snape hauled him up and shoved him back toward an obviously hostile Harry. He wouldn't be able to stand getting hexed a dozen more times. He'd cast the spell now and let Professors Snape yell all he liked. If he was right, the rest of the school would be on his side.

"Serpentsortia!" Neville shouted, waving his wand in a broad arc. A large cobra landed halfway down the platform, almost at Harry's feet. The room erupted in gasps and numerous girlish screams ... a few of them coming from boys.

Harry froze in shock as the cobra twisted around hissing angrily at all the students. Justin waved his arms agitatedly when the snake turned toward him, trying to shoo it away. The snake hissed and went closer to him, weaving its head side to side.

"Insolent nestling ... I'll teach you to insult me ..." The snake hissed.

Harry had heard enough, he was spurred into action and walked toward the snake. "Don't ... he is no threat to you, please don't hurt him." to Harry's relief the snake turned away from Justin and looked at Harry curiously. The rest of the room had become totally, horribly silent.

Neville smiled in triumph. He had been right ... Harry Potter was a Parselmouth – a dark wizard without a doubt. There would be no denying that Neville had been right about Potter and his little friends after this.

Harry looked around – dammit, he'd forgotten to not use parseltongue.

Severus vanished the snake and barked at the students to pair off – they would be practicing casting and blocking. He looked at the frozen students and yelled, "NOW!"

Snape's anger was something no one wanted to incur – and one of the few things that they feared more than a parselmouth. Most of them quickly scurried around pairing up and whispering to each other in fearful tones. Some of the Slytherins looked more speculative than frightened. Some of the younger muggleborns looked confused, not sure why everyone was acting this way ... but they were sure that Harry Potter hissing was not a good thing.

Draco and Dudley stuck tight to Harry, fending off the unfriendly stares directed at him. Tom hurried up, followed by a concerned Heather.

"It's ridiculous how they act about Parselmouths here in Europe. Every other country welcomes them ..." Heather muttered angrily.

A disconcerted Minerva and Filius organized the pairs and got them dueling. A shocked Lockhart soon joined them. Lucius refereed some of the older students. Severus stood near Harry, making sure he and Draco joined in. Tom paired off against an overly confident Marcus Flint who determinedly told Harry in a very loud voice that 'no one with a lick of sense automatically assumed a Parselmouth was a dark wizard.'

A few students glared angrily at Marcus, but no one had the nerve to contradict him – not with Snape and Malfoy glaring from behind him.

Harry whispered, "Sorry." as Severus walked behind him.

Severus sighed in resignation – he'd hoped to be able to fume a bit longer over this turn of events. "I assume you were calling the Cobra off?" Harry nodded back at him. "Then you have nothing to be sorry for ... I might not have been able to vanish the snake before it bit him."

Oliver Wood was walking behind them as this was said. It made sense ... and he couldn't really believe that Harry Potter – even a Slytherin parselmouth Harry Potter was a dark wizard. He wanted to support Harry – and Dudley, but most of all he wanted to be introduced to Heather Black.

There hadn't been a duelling partner available so he hustled over to the apprentice and politely asked if she would mind partnering with him. She'd smiled hesitantly and nodded. Oliver suddenly realized the problem with dueling a girl one likes - hexing them properly greatly decreased the likelihood of them accompanying you to Hogsmeade – but if you obviously pulled all your curses and lost on purpose – they would be angry or disgusted.

Oliver would have to try to win ... but not hex her into annoyance.

Tom watched with a small grin. He'd had the same problem whenever he helped Dora practice with spells. Tom had partnered Dudley who was determined to learn the Expelliarmus and was systematically casting it over and over. Tom was trying to not block very hard, so Dudley had a slight chance of suceeding.

By the time the dueling club was over, most of the students had calmed – Potter hadn't done anything else threatening and after all – he was a second year, only twelve – how dark could he be?

Lockhart dismissed them, telling them that they would post the next meeting on their return after winter break.

Blaise walked with Crabbe and Goyle to their dorm room. Blaise was seething with jealousy and feeling uncertain. He'd hoped to impress the Noble House of Slytherin this year. Instead they sneered and even worse ignored him most of the time. A few tolerated him at times, as long as he was just studying with them ... he was pretty good with charms.

Now Potter turns out to be a Parselmouth. It was infuriating. He would literally kill to have that ability. To have the signature skill of Salazar Slytherin and the Dark Lord himself ... it would have been awesome – and it might have finally gotten him some respect from the Slytherins.

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To the Headmaster's relief not a single student stayed over Christmas. Children that normally would have, perhaps, stayed to study for either their OWL's or NEWT's opted to go home – likely due to the event with Colin.

Others who might have stayed quickly found friends to go with. Families were being quite welcoming to students who normally would have been stranded. The attack was being kept fairly quiet, and the Minister had strong-armed the Prophet into silence, promising an excellent interview "once it was over". However enough was known by students and their families that no one wanted to leave a child to their own devices over the break at the castle - even if it meant inviting a total stranger into their home. After all, they reasoned, wasn't that what Christmas was all about?

Harry quickly put the whole Parseltongue incident behind him and threw himself into the season. He, Draco and Dudley went exploring the Reserve with Tom, Dora as well as Heather – who had struck up a friendship with Dora.

This left Petunia and Rosmerta free to make plans for the double wedding to occur in the coming summer. Lucius and Severus would nod absently while going over plans to mount an assault on the Chamber of Secrets. They would occasionally pay attention when mention was made of what colors were to be used. Severus and Lucius were both emphatic that classic black dress robes would be worn by them.

They had been pressed into wearing a gaudy green and rather bright blue to the party thrown by Eleanor Prince and her fiance for the three couples. They were determined to never go near those robes again.

Christmas came and went, Tom was blissful at the amount of time Dora had been able to spend with him. Andromeda and Ted Tonks had come with her several times. Andy had soon been willingly added to the wedding crew. With Dora at the Auror Academy and the Order not being all that active at present ... she was at loose ends.

Christmas day was a happy event for all. Everyone eventually ended up at Dragonsrest for a grand feast and party. Lucius brought fireworks which seemed to thrill the Dragons on the reserve.

Lucius and Petunia talked a bit while the fireworks blasted brilliant designs in the dark sky, about what they would do after their marriage. Petunia was reluctant to move into the Manor.

"It's huge, Lucius. I'd feel like I was living in a hotel." Petunia explained hesitantly. "Perhaps I would get used to it eventually. I can try, of course..." She hated to complain that Lucius was going to be keeping her too well, of all things.

Lucius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I do prefer staying at Spinners End, myself. I would still need to do most of my business there at the Manor, and we could still hold big parties there, when needed ... like that massive double wedding you and Rosmerta are planning. But we could stay at your house most of the time."

Lucius actually felt relieved at this. While living with Abraxas and Narcissa the place hadn't felt big enough in his desire to be far away from them. Now it was resoundingly empty, with Draco gone most of the time. He was rather glad to be at Hogwarts at present.

"You seem happy at Hogwarts, Lucius." Petunia echoed his thoughts. "You miss Draco, don't you?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes, and it's fun to help rebuild the History of Magic class ... plus, I can pick Professor Babbling's brain about Runes all I please."

"Why didn't you ever get your Mastery at them?" Petunia asked curiously.

Lucius smile vanished and Petunia could feel the air chill in the room. "Abraxas would not allow it. I got several beatings to drive all that nonsense out of my head. He needed a Death Eater, not a Rune Master." Lucius still felt the old pain of leaving the magic he most loved behind to look after family businesses and to learn curses and torture to best serve the Dark Lord.

"But he's gone, and you've left your old allegiance behind ... there is nothing to stop you persuing it ... is there?" Petunia asked reasonably. "Will they not let you try? You wizards are so very long-lived – surely they don't stop you from learning even later in life?"

Lucius thought for a moment. He did have businesses, but he could hand much of that over to lawyers and managers. Petunia could look after much of the new housing projects. Why couldn't he? Lucius smirked and raised Petunia's hand to his lips.

"You are a genius my dear. I'm quite sure I can pile enough gold in front of Professor Babbling to persuade her to teach me for a year or two to get my Mastery."

"And you'll be able to look after Draco, Dudley and Harry for awhile longer." Petunia laughed.

"Do you mind very much?" Lucius asked. "I will be spending most days at Hogwarts to do this."

"No, I'll be busy during the day as well. You'll be home on weekends?" Petunia asked. Lucius nodded emphatically, he'd see it was in the contract.

They settled back, watching the boys roughousing happily with a new 'fanged frisbee'. Lucius shuddered – there were now large rents in the boys yule clothing. The seamstress house elves would be kept busy he supposed.

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Hermione staggered away from the welcoming feast in the great hall, exhausted. She'd hardly slept more than an hour or two a night while at home. She'd had terrible nightmares of her parents dying almost every night ... worse it seemed to be her, gleefully killing them. She got to a corridor and found herself in front of a girls bathroom and wandered in, sinking down to lean against a wall.

The Horcrux snickered in the back of her head. He'd been appalled to find himself in a muggle household, listening to their dreary little lives and watching them do things the muggle way, celebrating their muggle Christmas. He'd imagined killing them in rather inventive ways and been amused to find that the girl had seen his little fantasies as nightmares. He'd gotten even more brutal in his imaginings after that.

Now he needed to make another 'example' of a muggleborn and set his next plot into action. He waited patiently and soon he heard someone outside talking to the Gryfindor ghost ... ah – Justin something or other ... a muggleborn. He got the girl to her feet and quickly opened the Chamber and summoned the Basilisk. It slithered forward and froze the ghost and the boy.

The Horcrux could hear shouting and running and urged the snake back into the tunnels. He'd known the alarms would be set off, but no matter – he would be leaving the girl behind.

The girl ran for it after that, racing to the DADA classroom. The Horcrux had had a difficult time choosing, but he couldn't quite bring himself to take over his heir and by doing that essentially kill Tom. He'd take over another – after all, with the addition of his own magic, any body he took would become formidable.

Hermione looked at Professor Lockhart urgently, taking off the circulet from around her neck, where it was hidden. The voice in the back of her head had kept saying she didn't want to tell Flitwick ... he would be so disappointed in her. Professor Lockhart was more kind and sympathetic, and she admired him.

"I found this, Professor, I'm not sure what to do with it ... it looks old, and it's an exact copy of the Ravenclaw Diadem. Perhaps you'll know what to do with it?" Hermione saw the professor's eyes light up and he grabbed the circulet urgently.

"Yes, yes. You've done the right thing Miss Granger. I'll be glad to take care of this matter for you." Lockhart had immediate visions of presenting the diadem to the Headmaster. He just needed to come up with a very brave and exciting story of how he'd rescued it from ... hmm ... perhaps the centaurs?

Lockhart looked at the girl. Of course he couldn't have her blabbing that she'd given it to him. A quick Obliviate and she happily trotted off to her dorm, none the wiser ... completely forgetting she'd ever had the diadem.

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