Harry Potter 02 & The Chamber Of Secrets (Illustrated) (32 page)

‘That’s right,’ said Ron, catching on. ‘Why don’t you leave us here, sir, we’ve only got one more corridor to go.’

‘You know, Weasley, I think I will,’ said Lockhart. ‘I really should go and prepare my next class.’

And he hurried off.

‘Prepare his class,’ Ron sneered after him. ‘Gone to curl his hair, more like.’

They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme …

‘Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?’

It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines.

‘We were - we were -‘ Ron stammered, ‘we were going to - to go and see -‘

‘Hermione,’ said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him.

‘We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,’ Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, ‘and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry.’

Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

‘Of course,’ she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. ‘Of course, I realise this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been … I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you’ve gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission.’

Harry and Ron walked away, hardly daring to believe that they’d avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose.

‘That,’ said Ron fervently, ‘was the best story you’ve ever come up with.’

They had no choice now but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall’s permission to visit Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly.

‘There’s just no
point
talking to a Petrified person,’ she said, and they had to admit she was right when they’d taken their seats next to Hermione. It was plain that Hermione didn’t have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.

‘Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?’ said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione’s rigid face. ‘Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one’ll ever know …’

But Harry wasn’t looking at Hermione’s face. He was more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside her fist.

Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, he pointed this out to Ron.

‘Try and get it out,’ Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey’s view.

It was no easy task. Hermione’s hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch he tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Ron leaned close to read it too.

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Harry recognised as Hermione’s.
Pipes.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.

‘Ron,’ he breathed, ‘this is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber’s a
Basilisk
- a giant serpent!
That’s
why I’ve been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It’s because I understand Parseltongue …’

Harry looked up at the beds around him.

‘The Basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one’s died - because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The Basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin … Justin must’ve seen the Basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn’t die
again
… and Hermione and that Ravenclaw Prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realised the monster was a Basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look round corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror - and -‘

Ron’s jaw had dropped.

‘And Mrs Norris?’ he whispered eagerly.

Harry thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Hallowe’en.

‘The water …’ he said slowly, ‘the flood from Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. I bet you Mrs Norris only saw the reflection …’

He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

‘The Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it!’
he read aloud. ‘Hagrid’s roosters were killed! The heir of Slytherin didn’t want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened!
Spiders flee before the Basilisk!
It all fits!’

‘But how’s the Basilisk been getting around the place?’ said Ron. ‘A dirty great snake … Someone would’ve seen …’

Harry, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.

‘Pipes,’ he said. ‘Pipes … Ron, it’s been using the plumbing. I’ve been hearing that voice inside the walls …’

Ron suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm.

‘The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!’ he said hoarsely. ‘What if it’s a bathroom? What if it’s in -‘

‘- Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,’
said Harry.

They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.

‘This means,’ said Harry, ‘I can’t be the only Parselmouth in the school. The heir of Slytherin’s one, too. That’s how they’ve been controlling the Basilisk.’

‘What’re we going to do?’ said Ron, whose eyes were flashing. ‘Shall we go straight to McGonagall?’

‘Let’s go to the staff room,’ said Harry, jumping up. ‘She’ll be there in ten minutes, it’s nearly break.’

They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, panelled room full of dark wooden chairs. Harry and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down.

But the bell to signal break never came.

Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall’s voice, magically magnified.

‘All students to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.’

Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron.

‘Not another attack? Not now?’

‘What’ll we do?’ said Ron, aghast. ‘Go back to the dormitory?’

‘No,’ said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers’ cloaks. ‘In here. Let’s hear what it’s all about. Then we can tell them what we’ve found out.’

They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff-room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.

‘It has happened,’ she told the silent staff room. ‘A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.’

Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, ‘How can you be sure?’

‘The heir of Slytherin,’ said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, ‘left another message. Right underneath the first one.
Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber for ever.’

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

‘Who is it?’ said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed into a chair. ‘Which student?’

‘Ginny Weasley,’ said Professor McGonagall.

Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him.

‘We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said …’

The staff-room door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.

‘So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?’

He didn’t seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped forward.

‘Just the man,’ he said. ‘The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.’

Lockhart blanched.

‘That’s right, Gilderoy,’ chipped in Professor Sprout. ‘Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?’

‘I - well, I -‘ spluttered Lockhart.

‘Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?’ piped up Professor Flitwick.

‘D-did I? I don’t recall …’

‘I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested,’ said Snape. ‘Didn’t you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?’

Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues.

‘I … I really never … You may have misunderstood …’

‘We’ll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We’ll make sure everyone’s out of your way. You’ll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last.’

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn’t look remotely handsome any more. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin he looked weak-chinned and weedy.

‘V-very well,’ he said. ‘I’ll - I’ll be in my office, getting - getting ready.’

And he left the room.

‘Right,’ said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, ‘that’s got
him
out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.’

The teachers rose, and left one by one.

*

It was probably the worst day of Harry’s entire life. He, Ron, Fred and George sat together in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other. Percy wasn’t there. He had gone to send an owl to Mr and Mrs Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.

No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.

‘She knew something, Harry,’ said Ron, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staff room. ‘That’s why she was taken. It wasn’t some stupid thing about Percy at all. She’d found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was -‘ Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. ‘I mean, she was a pure-blood. There can’t be any other reason.’

Harry could see the sun sinking, blood red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. If only there was something they could do. Anything.

‘Harry,’ said Ron, ‘d’you think there’s any chance at all she’s not - you know -‘

Harry didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t see how Ginny could still be alive.

‘D’you know what?’ said Ron, ‘I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He’s going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it’s a Basilisk in there.’

Because Harry couldn’t think of anything else to do, and because he wanted to be doing something, he agreed. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart’s office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps and hurried footsteps.

Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart’s eyes peering through it.

‘Oh … Mr Potter … Mr Weasley …’ he said, opening the doora mite wider. ‘I’m rather busy at the moment. If you would be quick …’

‘Professor, we’ve got some information for you,’ said Harry. ‘We think it’ll help you.’

‘Er - well - it’s not terribly -‘ The side of Lockhart’s face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. ‘I mean - well - all right.’

He opened the door and they entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

‘Are you going somewhere?’ said Harry.

‘Er, well, yes,’ said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke, and starting to roll it up. ‘Urgent call … unavoidable … got to go …’

‘What about my sister?’ said Ron jerkily.

‘Well, as to that - most unfortunate,’ said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. ‘No one regrets more than I -‘

‘You’re the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!’ said Harry. ‘You can’t go now! Not with all the dark stuff going on here!’