Revised: April 2, 2022

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A quick transition of point of view to Ron and Hermione

Hardly anyone stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays after that. True, some people acknowledged that Harry hadn't been present when Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been attacked, but they still thought he might have had an accomplice.

A certain pair of Gryffindors did not believe this; however...

"I'm sure Malfoy knows something," said Ron. "Haven't you noticed how weird he's been acting?"

"He has been pretty quiet," Hermione agreed thoughtfully.

She fell silent as Fred and George climbed in through the portrait hole. Fred made a big show of draping himself over a chair.

"I really thought Harry was going to attack me," he said, throwing an arm to his forehead. "Did you see the way he looked at me when I asked him how was his trip to the chamber?"

George heaved a dramatic sigh. "Indeed, Freddie. But don't worry, you got little ole me here."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.

George jumped and held the clove of garlic up as if he were warding a vampire. "Don't scare me like that again!" he exclaimed, though he was grinning broadly.

Fred sat up. "We were just talking to Harry. Poor kid doesn't even have a friend in his own dorm because they all still think he's had a hand in the attacks."

Ron frowned. "You mean, none of them are talking to him?" He felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered that he'd be on their side at one point.

Fred shrugged. "Apparently. But he doesn't seem to mind it when George and I tease him about it."

He hopped to his feet and led George away to their dorm.

Ron turned back to Hermione. "The sooner we get Malfoy to talk, the better."

"Don't worry," said Hermione. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

Hermione, unfortunately, could not go with Ron to speak with Malfoy. She refused to say, and Ron, knowing he had precious little time before the potion wore off, reluctantly set off.

Somehow, after a run-in with a Ravenclaw and Percy, Ron found himself sitting in front of Malfoy in the Slytherin common room.

The first several minutes dragged on by with no evidence about the petrifications. Then Malfoy brought up the Chamber, catching Ron's attention. But what he said shocked him.

"Harry's still upset. Some are avoiding him still, even after Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick. Honestly, how stupid can they be to think that he's the heir?"

"You must have some idea who's behind it all..." Ron said, feeling that that was appropriate.

Malfoy shot him a withering glance. "You know I haven't, Crabbe, how many times do I have to tell you?" he snapped. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing — last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Muggle-born died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time... Harry won't like that."

Ron's wracked his brain for something Crabbe would say. He was sure Harry wasn't the heir, but what about Crabbe? "So Potter isn't the heir?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "No, he isn't. How many times do I have to say it?" His voice grew progressively louder until he was shouting. "Harry wasn't present during the attacks, but even if he was, he would never attack anyone, regardless of their blood!"

"Has everyone forgotten that his own mother was Muggle-born? Harry was right. Wizards really don't use logic."

Ron rubbed his face, freezing when he felt his nose lengthening. "Er, I have to go. Medicine. Stomachache." Before Malfoy could say anything, Ron had jumped up and raced away.

Several weeks later, Ron was visiting Hermione in the hospital wing after she had accidentally used Bulstrode's cat's hair in the Polyjuice Potion. "So Harry is not behind the attacks, then." She didn't sound at all surprised by this.

"No, and neither is Malfoy." Ron frowned.

Hermione sat back, thinking. Unlike the rest of the school, she had not immediately thought that Harry was behind the attacks, choosing to remain neutral. He had, after all, made sure she was okay after being called a Mudblood, and, like Malfoy had pointed out, his own mother came from a non-magical family. If anything else, this solidified her belief that Harry, and now Malfoy as well, was innocent.

"Back to square one," she said, more to herself.

Lockhart attempted to cheer the students up by having dwarfs give out Valentine's cards.

To Harry's absolute horror, one came to him. He tried to escape, but the stubborn dwarf brought him crashing to the floor.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

Harry tried to laugh to show he wasn't bothered by it. But as soon as he was able, he scooped up the his bag and rushed off to class.

That night, as Harry was heading up to the Ravenclaw Tower, he heard a cheerful voice behind him and turned to see George and Fred running up.

"Yes?" said Harry. He blinked as George leaned in close.

"So what's the verdict, George?" asked Fred.

"Ginny was right," George replied, stepping back with a grin. "His eyes really are as green —"

"No..."

"— as a fresh pickled toad."

Harry rushed up the steps, but those blasted twins followed him.

"And just look at that hair!" Fred exclaimed, tousling it up even more. "As black as a — no, wait — as dark as a blackboard!"

"Or as your eye if you don't shut up," Harry muttered.

Fred flinched as though he had been struck. "Oh, anything but that!"

Harry shook his head. He couldn't stop the corner of his lip from quirking up ever so slightly.

He made it to the eagle knocker.

"What is the truth?" it asked.

"Fred and George are idiots," Harry answered promptly.

"I'll allow it." The door swung open.

"Thanks," said Harry as one of the twins made an offended "Huh!" behind him. He turned and gave an overly bright smile. "Good night!"

The door closed mercifully and he sighed. Now that he was alone, he could take a closer look at what damage had been done to the contents in his bag.

Everything had been drenched in ink. Oh, well. There would surely be a spell that could clean this up.

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Ginny writes poetry better than me, that's for sure — and yes, I do believe she wrote it even with the use of "Dark Lord"

In the original version, Harry hadn't found the diary. So I'm gonna say that after Ginny tried to throw it away, she realized that someone could potentially find it and get hurt, so she eventually went back to retrieve it.

I don't know, I'm not spending a lot of time thinking about it.