"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly in Harry's ear. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"
"We've got to go and talk to him," said Harry, making up his mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time, he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."
"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class . . ."
"I think," said Harry, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old Cloak out again."
They went to bed at the usual time and waited until Neville, Dean, and Seamus had finished talking about the Chamber of Secrets and fallen asleep. Then they got up, dressed again, and threw the Invisibility Cloak over themselves.
It was a clear, starry night. They hurried towards the warm light spilling from the windows of Hagrid's hut, keeping close together beneath the Cloak. They only pulled it off when they were right outside his front door.
Seconds after they knocked, the door was flung open. They found themselves face-to-face with Hagrid, who was aiming a crossbow directly at them. Fang barked loudly behind him.
They shuffled inside as Hagrid absentmindedly handed them each a cup of tea, his eyes continuing to dart nervously around the hut.
There was a knock on the door.
Harry and Ron exchanged panic-stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid checked that they were properly hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open the door once more.
"Good evening, Hagrid."
It was Dumbledore. He entered looking deadly serious, followed by a second, very odd-looking man.
Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.
"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in clipped, uncomfortable tones. "Very bad business indeed. Had to come. Three attacks on Muggle-borns now... things have gone quite far enough. The Ministry simply can't be seen doing nothing."
"Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Dumbledore.
"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty... ."
"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"
"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.
Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door. Dumbledore answered it.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, dressed in a long black travelling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.
"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good . . ."
"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"
"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside this place you call a house," said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."
"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore.
"Dreadful business, Dumbledore," Malfoy said lazily, drawing a long roll of parchment from his cloak.
"The governors feel it is time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension, and you will find all twelve signatures upon it."
"I'm afraid we simply feel you are losing your grip. How many attacks does that make now? At this rate, there won't be a single Muggle-born left in the castle, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."
"Now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, looking genuinely alarmed. "Dumbledore suspended? No, no, that's the very last thing we need right now . . ."
"The appointment, or suspension, of the Headmaster is entirely a matter for the Board of Governors, Fudge," Malfoy said smoothly, cutting across the Minister without a glance. "And as Dumbledore has failed to bring these attacks to an end. . ."
"See here, Malfoy, if Albus Dumbledore can't stop them," Fudge stammered, sweat beginning to bead across his upper lip, "who on earth can?"
"That remains to be seen," Malfoy replied, a cold, thin smile touching his lips. "Regardless, all twelve governors have cast their votes. . ."
Hagrid surged to his feet. "An' how many of 'em did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they signed their names, Malfoy, eh?" he roared, his voice rattling the copper kettles on the fire.
"Dear me, that temper of yours will land you in serious trouble one of these days, Hagrid," said Malfoy smoothly, not blinking. "I would strongly advise against shouting at the Azkaban guards in such a manner. They are not known for their patience."
"Yeh can't take Dumbledore!" Hagrid bellowed, the force of his voice making Fang whimper and curl tighter into his basket by the hearth. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won't stand a ghost of a chance! There'll be killin' next, you mark my words!"
Lucius simply handed the letter of suspension to Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not raise his voice. He offered no defence and no resistance.
The old wizard had merely looked at Lucius with calm, penetrating blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through his fake facade.
"I will step aside, of course," Dumbledore had said softly, his voice carrying clearly into the darkest corners of the room. "If the governors wish my removal. But remember this... true help will always be found at Hogwarts for those who seek it."
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By morning, the news of Dumbledore's suspension had already spread throughout the school, thanks to Draco, who seemed unable to resist chirping about it at every opportunity.
'He is finally out of the castle,' Ethan thought as he contemplated his next move.
With Dumbledore gone, things had become much easier. Now he needed to find a way to get Harry into the Chamber, preferably alone.
Ethan would not mind if someone like Gilderoy Lockhart came along, as long as it was not another competent teacher who might interfere with his plans.
It would be easy to recreate the scenario from the original timeline: take Ginny to the Chamber, leave a message, and make it appear as though she had disappeared.
But would that be enough to convince Harry and Ron to enter the Chamber themselves alone?
There was also the question of how much they already knew about the Chamber, and whether they were even close to figuring out where its entrance was.
And even if Ethan helped them discover the way into the Chamber, it would be foolish to assume that they would simply go there on their own.
Harry and Ron could just as easily report their discovery to one of the teachers and let them deal with it.
If only the universe would simply force Harry into the Chamber, just as it had in the books.
That would have made things wonderfully simple.
Unfortunately, Ethan could not remember exactly how it had happened. He knew that Harry, Ron, and Gilderoy Lockhart had eventually ended up inside the Chamber, but the exact sequence of events that had led them there had become nothing more than a collection of vague memories.
He remembered the important pieces, but not how they had connected together.
Ethan frowned as he tried to reconstruct the events. Relying on the original timeline was becoming increasingly difficult now that so many things had changed. He could not simply assume that events would unfold in the same way as they had in the books.
He would have to find another way to get Harry into the Chamber.
After Dumbledore's removal, Hogwarts was gripped by a deep sense of fear. Students moved through the corridors cautiously, speaking in hushed voices and constantly looking over their shoulders.
There was barely a face to be seen in the school that did not look worried and tense. Any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural, quickly dying away as though even the students were afraid to let it linger.
The only exception seemed to be the Slytherins, who pranced through the halls with smug confidence, clearly enjoying the sudden change in the school's atmosphere.
Even during mealtimes, the Great Hall lacked its usual warmth. Students ate quickly, rarely lingering over their plates, and the teachers sat at the High Table with grim, watchful expressions that did little to ease anyone's nerves. And with the chair in the centre being empty, it was a stark reminder of Dumbledore's absence.
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