Chapter 10

The Writing on the Wall

KIARA

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Malty's shout, Douglas Match came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Robbs and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Robbs?" he shrieked.

And then his popping eyes fell on me.

"You!" he screeched, "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll –"

"Douglas!"

Crighton had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, she swept past Chris, Sian, Chrissie and myself and detached Mrs Robbs from the bracket.

"Come with me, Douglas," she said to Match. "You too, Miss Pride-Lander, Sian, Christina and Christopher."

Gold stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmistress – just upstairs – please feel free –"

"Thank you, Giselle," said Crighton.

The silent crowd parted to let us pass. Gold, looking so excited and important, hurried after Crighton; so did Professors Darbus and Triphorm.

As we all entered Gold's darkened office, there was a flurry of movement across the walls; I saw several of the Gold's in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Gold lit the candles on her desk and stood back. Crighton laid Mrs Robbs on the polished surface and began to examine her. Me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Crighton's long, straight nose was barely an inch from Mrs Robbs' fur. She was looking at her closely through her bright green eyes, her long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor Darbus was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Triphorm loomed behind them all, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression; it was as though she was trying hard not to smile. And Gold was hovering around them all, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her – probably the Transmorgrifian Torture. I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there; I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her …"

Gold's comments were punctuated by Match's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs Robbs, his face in his hands. Much as I detested Match, I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, though not nearly as I felt for myself. If Crighton believed Match, I would be expelled this time for sure.

Crighton was now muttering strange words under her breath and tapping Mrs Robbs with her wand, but nothing happened; she continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"… I remember something very similar like this happening in Ouagadougou," said Gold, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once …"

The photographs of Gold on the walls were all nodding in agreement as she talked. One of them had forgotten to remove her hairnet.

"Does she ever shut up?" said Chrissie, but only loud enough only for me, Chris and Sian to hear. Me, Sian and Chrissie laughed silently and nodded at this comment, whereas Chris just frowned in disapproval.

At last, Crighton straightened up.

"She's not dead, Douglas," she said softly.

Gold stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders she had prevented.

"Not dead?" said Match, looking through his fingers at Mrs Robbs. "But why's she all – all stiff and frozen?"

"She's been Petrified," said Crighton ("Ah! I thought so!" said Gold). "But how I cannot say …"

"Ask her!" shrieked Match, turning his blotched and tear-strained face to me.

"No second-year could have done this," said Crighton firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced –"

"She did it, she did it!" Match spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what she wrote on the wall! She found – in my office – she knows – I'm a – I'm a –" Match's face worked horribly. "She knows I'm a Squib!" he finished.

"I never touched Mrs Robbs!" I said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at me, including all the Gold's on the walls. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."

"Rubbish!" snarled Match. "She saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmistress," said Triphorm from the shadows, and my sense of foreboding increased; I was sure nothing Triphorm had to say was going to do me any good.

"Pride-Lander and her friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said, a slight sneer curling her mouth as though she doubted it, "but we do have a suspicious set of circumstances here? Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Hallowe'en feast?"

"We didn't do nothing," said Chrissie childishly.

When she had said this, Sian put her head in her hands, then lifted it up a few seconds later, and said, "Sister, do you even hear yourself? Seriously?" Sian then rolled her eyes and shook her head sceptically.

Then Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I all launched into an explanation about the Deathday party, "… there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there –"

"But why not join the feast afterwards?" said Triphorm, her brown eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"

Chris, Sian and Chrissie looked at me.

"Because – because –" I said, my heart thumping very fast; something told me it would sound very far-fetched if I told them at that moment that I had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but myself could hear, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," I said.

"Without any supper?" said Triphorm, a triumphant smile flickering across her gaunt face. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," said Chrissie as her stomach gave a large rumble.

Triphorm's nasty smile widened.

"I suggest, Headmistress, that Pride-Lander isn't being entirely truthful," she said. "It might be a good idea if she were deprived of certain privileges until she is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel she should be taken off the Lion-Heart Quidditch team until she is ready to be honest."

"Really, Tiana," said Professor Darbus sharply. "I see no reason to stop the girl playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Pride-Lander has done anything wrong."

"If I might say something," said Sian suddenly, "I think that the term "innocent until proven guilty" works well here. What say you, Mother?" As she finished this she turned to Crighton, as did I, who was giving me a searching look. Her twinkling light-green gaze made me feel as though I was being x-rayed.

After a brief examination into my eyes, Crighton then smiled and responded to Sian's statement by saying, "Quite right, Sian. Quite right, indeed. Sorry, Tiana," she said apologetically, a smile flickering across the corners of her mouth as she looked at Triphorm.

Triphorm looked furious. So did Match.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Douglas," said Crighton patiently. "Professor Spud recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made which will revive Mrs Robbs."

"I'll make it," Gold butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep –"

"Excuse me," said Triphorm icily, "but I believe I am the Potions mistress at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"Sian, you stay with me," said Crighton to her, "I need you for a few minutes. You three," she turned to me, Chris and Chrissie, "may go."

"I'll see you in the morning," said Sian to Chris, Chrissie and I.

SIAN

As soon as they left, Sian turned back to her mother, Professor Darbus, Gold and Triphorm, who were both looking steely-eyed at each other. Match was still looking at Mrs Robbs through his tears. Crighton turned to Match and said, "Douglas, I suggest that you take Mrs Robbs down to the hospital wing, seeing as there is nothing more we can do for her now."

Match nodded and walked over to the desk and picked Mrs Robbs up as if she were as delicate and precious as a new-born baby. He then put his head down on her fur and cried over her lifeless body, as if hoping that his tears would revive her. after a few moments he walked out the room with her.

Sian watched him go, feeling sorry for him, for she was an animal lover herself, but she was called back to the present moment by her mother's voice saying, "We have nothing more to be done here. Doreen, Giselle, Tiana, I shall see the three of you in the morning. Sian, I desire a quick word with you outside, if that's all right with you?"

"Of course, Mother," Sian said politely. Crighton smiled and she, Sian, Darbus and Triphorm walked towards the door, Triphorm giving Sian a look of pure venom for the "innocent until proven guilty" statement that she had said before. Sian's face showed Triphorm nothing; she remained cool as ice, but underneath she was quite a bit scared.

Before they had left the room, Crighton turned to Gold and said, "Oh, and Giselle?"

"Yes, Headmistress?"

"Thank you for letting me use your office for this rather unpleasant matter."

"Oh, no problem at all, headmistress! No problem at all! Anytime you need to use me or my quarters, you know where to find me."

Crighton nodded and smiled at Gold as the door closed on her, Sian, Darbus and Triphorm. The last two headed off down the corridor as soon as the door had closed to their own offices and Crighton waited until they had disappeared, then she put one arm behind her daughter's back and strode off a little further down the corridor. She looked around to check that no one was listening, then at Sian's puzzled face.

"What's going on, Mother?" said Sian. "I know you're worried about something. Just tell me what it is you fear."

Crighton bit her lip, and said, "I am scared for the future of this school."

"How so, Ma?"

Then Sian listened carefully to what her mother told her. Sure, some parts shocked her deeply, but she knew how important it was to her mother that this mystery had to be solved, and whatever the creature was that was attacking - not only animals, but also potentially students, too - had to be stopped; and Sian knew that she was one of the few people that her mother trusted with her life. For you see, Sian had done a few important things during her life for her mother, and she always did her job and her duty to her mother well.

Anyhoo, after she had listened to all her mother told her, she agreed to do the task at hand. Her mother beamed with pride and gratitude at what her eldest daughter had just said. But then Crighton said, "Oh, and promise me you won't tell anyone, especially Professor Gold. Well, we both know what she's like, don't we?" Crighton and Sian smiled at each other.

"Do you think you've made a mistake with hiring her, Ma?" Sian asked her mother.

Crighton looked at Gold's closed door then back at Sian and replied, "Between you and me, Siany, I'm starting to think I have." They both laughed at this for a few minutes.

When the giggles had gone, Sian said, "What about Kiara, Chris and Chrissie, Ma? They're going to get suspicious some time soon about what I'm doing, and I'm just wondering should I let them in on my secret sooner or later, don't you think?"

Sian looked at her mother indignantly. Crighton thought about it for a few moments, then said, "Only when they are close, or have heard anything accidentally – well, we both know what Kiara's like – only then you may tell them."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll do it for you, and you have my word that I will keep both promises and not tell Kiara, Chris and Chrissie until they suspect or know."

"That's my girl," said Crighton, as she and Sian hugged. When they let go, Crighton asked Sian, "What will you tell them about our talking tonight, though?"

"Oh, I'll just say that you wanted to know how school was going. No big," said Sian simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Crighton laughed. This was the Sian she knew and liked the most, as Sian knew; the one that made her mother laughed and loved her inquisitive side to her nature. Sian smiled at her mother's laughter. She always enjoyed these times, when she would cheer her mother up after a hard day with just a few simple words that weren't even really that funny. But of course, even that couldn't last for ever …

"I'll start tomorrow, Ma," said Sian, as a chime went off somewhere. "After all, it's getting near midnight, and I need my rest."

"All right, my darling." She and Sian hugged, then let go. "Goodnight, Sian."

"Goodnight, Mother," said Sian. Then she kissed her mother's cheek. "I won't let you down, you know."

Crighton chuckled and said, "Oh, I know you won't. Oh, and before you go." Crighton pulled a silver mirror out of an inside pocket of her robes, "take this with you, just in case." Sian nodded at her mother and then the mother and daughter each retired to her separate bed.

KIARA

Some of what has been said above between Sian and Crighton, Chris, Chrissie and I would find out a bit later on in the year, as will you. The rest, however, Sian only told me to write for this book earlier this year.

Bit getting back to the story. Now, where was I? Ah yes, I remember. Me, Chris and Chrissie had just left Gold's office. We left as quickly as we could without actually running. When we were a floor up from Gold's office, we hurried into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind us. I squinted at my friends in the darkness.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No," said Chris, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear is not a good sign, even in the wizarding world. Even Sian would tell you that if she were here right now."

Something in Chris' voice made me ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Course I do," said Chris quickly. "But – you must admit it's weird …"

"I know it's weird," I said. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber has been opened … what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Chrissie slowly. "I think someone told me about a secret chamber at Dragon Mort once … might've been Dad …"

"And what on earth's a Squib?" I said.

To my surprise, Chris and Chrissie laughed.

"Well – it's not funny really – but as it's Match …" Chrissie said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Match's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Chrissie gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," I said. "We'd better get to bed before Triphorm comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

0000

The next day I got a letter off Grandmother Sarabi, which read:

My Dearest Kiara,

It's been a while since I've heard from you, which is why I'm writing to ask you how you are and to keep me updated on what's been going on since I wrote to you last. There's been nothing major to report back home and Sarafina sends you her love.

Keep me updated with the school.

Lots of love,

Grandmother Sarabi

I wrote back as soon as I read this note. That letter then reads thus:

Dear Grandmother Sarabi,

I'm sorry I haven't been writing to you as much as I would have, it's just that I've been very busy of late. You see, first Danielle Malty goes and buys her way on to the Snake-Eyes Quidditch team by buying her and the rest of the Snake-Eyes team Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and Ones. Then when Sian makes an honest comment about how she bought her way onto the team, Malty called her the bad "S" word in our world which you never told me about. I got detention with Gold, who is still driving me crazy –just saying seeing as you didn't ask in your note – and I heard a strange, bodiless voice that no one else could hear. I heard it again on Hallowe'en night after Madam Nicola's Deathday party, which wasn't fun and not only for the reason you'd expect. We found the caretaker's cat Mrs Robbs was Petrified and a message written in blood was on the wall which read, "THE CHAMBER OF MYSTERIES HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE." Oh, and thanks for not telling me about the Chamber of Mysteries, by the way. Me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie got caught by this message, and were asked questions by Crighton and a few other teachers at the school. So that's what's been going on so far since I last wrote to you.

Write again soon.

Lots of love,

Kiara

I thought that she would be quite shocked by what she read, but I knew she had the right to know; for apart from my closest friends, she was the only other person I felt I could tell about the voice. Anyway, for the next few days, the school could talk of little but the attack on Mrs Robbs. Match kept it fresh in everyone's mind by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. I had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with "Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover", but to no effect; the message still gleaned as brightly as ever on the stone. When Match wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy".

Kestrel Dawson seemed very disturbed by Mrs Robbs' fate. According to Sian, she was a great cat-lover.

"But you hadn't really got to know Mrs Robbs," Chris told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Kestrel's lips trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Dragon Mort," Chris assured her. "They'll catch the nutter who did it and have him or her thrown out of here in no time. I just hope they've got time to Petrify Match before they're expelled. I'm only joking –" Chris added hastily, as Kestrel blanched.

The attack had also had an effect on Sian. It was quite usual for Sian to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Also, her disappearances were becoming more frequent than usual after class time; after all, it was normal for her to be gone from time to time for her mother's sake, but she was gone almost daily now. Nor could Chris, Chrissie or myself get much response from her at this point when we asked what she was up to , and not until the following Wednesday did we find out what she was doing with the reading.

If I remember correctly, I had just been held back in Potions, because Triphorm had made me stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, I went upstairs to find Chris and Chrissie in the library. I saw Justine Cole, the Badger-Stripes girl from Herbology, coming towards me. I just opened my mouth to say hello when Justine caught sight of me, turned abruptly and sped off in the other direction. I thought this was odd at the time, but this was before I found out – wait, I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Sorry folks, but back to the story.

I found Chris and Chrissie in the back of the library, measuring their History of Magic homework. Professor Yawn had asked for a three-foot long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards".

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short …" said Chrissie furiously, letting go of the parchment which sprang back into a roll, "and Sian's done four feet seven inches more and her writing's tiny."

"Where is she, anyway?" I asked, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling my own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Chris, and was pointing along the shelves. He had measured his homework before Chrissie, and seeing that it was three feet long exactly, had passed the tape measure to Chrissie before I joined them. He was now watching us and caught me up on this, before he explained what Sian was doing. "She's looking for another book. We think she's trying to read the entire library before Christmas, and we still haven't found out about her unusual disappearances."

I told Chris and Chrissie about Justine Cole running away from me.

"Don't know why you care, I thought she was a bit of an idiot," said Chrissie, "all that rubbish about Gold being so great –"

"She is great, Chrissie," Chris exclaimed, as me and Chrissie rolled our eyes at him. "Why can't you two and Sian see that?"

"Er, because we're not the ones who are blinded by her beauty, Chris. That's all you," I said.

"Yeah, Kiara's right, bro," Chrissie said, "and besides, Sian agrees with us on this point, and will tell you so herself. Here she comes now, in fact."

Chrissie nodded her head and me and Chris spun our heads round; sure enough, Sian emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to us.

"All the copies of Dragon Mort: A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Chrissie. "And there's a two week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it into my trunk with all the Gold books."

"Why do you want it?" I said.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Sian, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Mysteries."

"What's that?" I said quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Sian, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else –"

"Has your mother told you anything about the chamber?" I asked them.

Sian was the one who replied, for she said, "Well, no. She never told us anything about it. I think she was scared about … something." She hesitated, which suggested to Chris, Chrissie and I that she was hiding something which her mother had told her to hide, so we didn't push her; well, except Chrissie, as per usual.

"Sian, are you going to tell us where you've been disappearing off to lately?" she asked her sister.

"I'm afraid I can't, sister," said Sian. "Mother made me swear not to tell anyone until she says I can. And Chris, Chrissie," she said, turning to each of them in turn as she said their names, "we know that our mother's word is law." Chris and Chrissie nodded in agreement with this fact.

"Hey, S.D.?" Chrissie asked nervously.

"Yes, Chrissie?"

"Can you let me read your composition, please?" she said desperately, checking her watch.

"No, I won't," said Sian, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it."

"But I only need another two inches, go on …"

The bell rang; Sian and Chrissie led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on our timetable. Professor Yawn, who taught it, was our only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shrivelled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff-room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was a boring as ever. Professor Yawn opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming round enough to copy down a name or date, then fall asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before: Sian put up her hand.

Professor Yawn, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss – er –"

"Dawson, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Mysteries," said Sian in a clear voice.

Dena Wright, who had been sitting with her mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of her trance; Larry Brown's head came off of his arms and Nikita's elbow slipped off her desk.

Professor Yawn blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Dawson, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a sub-committee of Sardinian Sorcerers –"

He stuttered to a halt. Sian's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Dawgon?"

"Please, sir, don't myths and legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Yawn was looking at her in such amazement; I was sure that no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"Well," said Professor Yawn slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Sian as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even a ludicrous tale …"

But all of us in the class were now hanging on Professor Yawn's every word. He looked dimly at us all, every face turned to his. I could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see … the Chamber of Mysteries …

"As you all know, of course, that Dragon Mort was founded over a thousand years ago – the precise date is uncertain – by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Louisa Lion-Heart, Bartholomew Badger-Stripes, Rowan Raven-Wing and Selena Snake-Eyes. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily round the room, and continued, "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony, peace and light together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Snake-Eyes and the others. Snake-Eyes wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Dragon Mort. She believed that magical learning should be kept with people who want to actually learn and new people to answer questions, along with those who were not born with any magical talents. She disliked taking students of high intelligence, along with those who were Muggle-borns, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while there was a serious argument between Snake-Eyes and Lion-Heart, and Snake-Eyes left the school."

Professor Yawn paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said, "but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Mysteries. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Mysteries, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual sleepy silence that filled Professor Yawn's classes. There was unease in the air as we all continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Yawn looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Sian's hand was back in the air again.

"Sir – what exactly do you mean by the "horror within" the chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, that the heir of Snake-Eyes alone can control," said Professor Yawn in his dry, reedy voice.

We all in the class exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Yawn, shuffling his notes. "There is no chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Zara Finn, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Snake-Eyes true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, Fingers," said Professor Yawn in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Dragon Mort headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing –"

"But, Professor," piped up Sarah Rimmer, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it –"

"Just because a witch doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean she can't, Miss Runner," snapped Professor Yawn. "I repeat, if the likes of Crighton –"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Snake-Eyes, so Crighton couldn't –" began Dena Wright, but Professor Yawn had had enough.

"That will do,"he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Snake-Eyes ever built so much as even a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor. Of course, Professor Yawn would regret saying that that story was foolish after what me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie uncovered, but we'll get to what me and my friends uncovered later. Besides, Professor Yawn, I've heard, has retold the story in its form above, and has included what Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I uncovered which I'm grateful for, for I'm pretty sure that – whoops, almost got ahead of myself again. Sorry about that. now though, back to the story.

0000

"I always knew Selena Snake-Eyes was a twisted old loony," Chrissie told me, Chris and Sian, as we fought our way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop our bags off before dinner. "But I never knew she started all this bright-brain/Muggle-born stuff. I wouldn't be in her house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Snake Head had placed me in Snake-Eyes, I'd have got one of the submarines straight back home …"

Chris and Sian nodded fervently, but I didn't say anything. My stomach had dropped unpleasantly.

I had never told Chris, Sian or Chrissie that the Snake Head spoke to me in my head and had seriously considered putting me in Snake-Eyes. I could remember, as though it was yesterday, seeing the Snake and the Lion Heads argue over me. I can't remember what they said about me, but what I do know is that at the end of the day, I got put in Lion-Heart.

As we were shunted along in the throng, Colleen McCreevy went past.

"Hiya, Kiara!"

"Hullo, Colleen," I said automatically.

"Kiara – Kiara – a girl in my class has been saying you're –"

But Colleen was so small that she couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing her towards the Great Hall; we heard her squeak, "See you, Kiara!" and she was gone.

"What's a girl in her class been saying about you?" Sian wondered.

"That I'm Snake-Eyes' heir, I expect," I said, my stomach dropping another inch or so, as I remembered the way Justine Cole had run away from me at lunchtime.

"People round here'll believe anything," said Chris in disgust.

The crowd thinned and we were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.

"D'you think there really is a Chamber of Mysteries?" Chrissie asked Sian.

"I don't know," she said frowning. "Ma couldn't cure Mrs Robbs, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be – well – human."

As we spoke, we turned a corner and found ourselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. We stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat handing from the torch bracket, and no empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber has been opened".

"That's where Match has been keeping guard," Chrissie muttered.

We looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," I said, dropping my bag and getting to my hands and knees so that I could crawl along, searching for clues. But before I could crawl, a voice behind me said –

"You won't find anything, much."

I spun around and looked at Sian, as did Chris and Chrissie. Her sudden look of shock, along with an expression that clearly said, "Whoops, I've said too much", was quickly covered up by her poker face.

"How do you know we won't find anything here, Sian?" I asked her suspiciously. Chris and Chrissie were eyeing her suspiciously, too.

"I don't," Sian said coolly. "I just have a feeling, that's all." She said this so convincingly that Chris, Chrissie and I bought this. After all, at this point in the story we didn't know that she was - well, we'll get to that later. Besides, me, Chris and Chrissie knew what she was like with her feelings that she had, so we didn't push her, but we decided to have a look anyway, Sian rather reluctantly.

"Scorch marks!" I said. "Here – and here –"

"Come and look at this!" said Sian. "This is funny …"

I got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Sian was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small gap in the glass. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had climbed through it in their hurry to get outside.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Sian wonderingly.

"No," said Chris.

"Nor me," I said, "have you, Chrissie? Chrissie?"

I looked over my shoulder. Chrissie was standing well back, and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" I said.

Sian gasped, and said, "Oh, I forgot …"

"Forgot what?"

Sian bit her lip and replied, "She hates spiders."

"It's – true – I – do," said Chrissie tensely.

"I never knew that," said Chris, looking at Chrissie in surprise. "Hang on, why did you and Sian never tell me this?"

Sian answered this immediately: "Because we knew you'd take the mick."

"But, you've used spiders loads of times in Potions, Chrissie," said Chris.

"I don't mind them dead," said Chrissie, who was carefully looking anywhere but the window, "I just don't like the way they move …"

Chris giggled.

"It's not funny," said Chrissie fiercely. "If you must know, when Tanya and Geri came round one day and I was three, Geri turned my – my teddy bear into a dirty great spider, because when we went to visit them, I broke her toy broomstick. You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and …"

She broke off, shuddering. Chris was still obviously trying hard not to laugh. Feeling that we had better get off the subject, I said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up?"

"It was about here," said Chrissie, recovering herself to walk a few paces past Match's chair and pointing. "Level with this door." Chrissie then walked to the door and reached for the brass doorknob, but suddenly withdrew her hand as though she'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"Can't go in there," said Chrissie gruffly, "that's a boys' toilet."

"Oh, Chrissie, there won't be anyone in there," said Chris, just beside the door. "That's Old Moany's place. Come on – let's have a look."

And ignoring the large "Out of Order" sign, he opened the door.

It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom that I had ever been in (and still is, by the way). In the middle of the room were a number of sinks in a circular ring, and further along the room were the cubicles on one side and more sinks on the other. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the cubicles were flaking and scratched, and one of them was hanging off its hinges.

Chris put his fingers to his lips and set off towards the end cubicle. When he reached it he said, "Hello, Moany, how are you?"

Sian, Chrissie and I went to look. Old Moany was floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on his chin.

"This is a boy's bathroom," he said, eyeing Sian, Chrissie and I suspiciously. "They're not boys."

"No," Chris agreed. "I just wanted to show them how – er – nice it is in here."

He waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror over the sinks on the other side of the room and the damp floor.

"Ask him if he saw anything," I mouthed at Chris.

"What are you whispering?" said Moany, staring at me.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "We wanted to ask –"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Moany, in a voice which was beginning to choke up. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead."

"Moany, no one wants to upset you," Chris said. "Kiara only –"

"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Moany. "My life was nothing but misery at this place, and now people come along ruining my death!"

"We wanted to ask if you'd seen anything funny lately," said Sian quickly, "because a cat was attacked right outside your door on Hallowe'en."

"Did you see anyone near here that night?" I said.

"I wasn't paying attention," said Moany dramatically. "Weeves upset me so much that I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then of course, I remembered that I'm – that I'm –"

"Already dead," said Chrissie hopefully.

Moany gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived head first into the toilet, splashing water all over us and vanishing from sight; from the direction of the muffled sobs, he had come to rest somewhere in the u-bend.

Sian, Chrissie and I stood with our mouths open, but Chris shrugged and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Moany … come on, let's go."

I had barely closed the door on Moany's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all four of us jump.

"WHAT ARE YOU FOUR DOING?"

Perdy the Prefect had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, Prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on her face.

"That's a boy's bathroom!" she gasped. "What were you –?"

"Just having a look around," Chrissie shrugged. "Clues, you know …"

Perdy swelled in a manner that reminded me fully of Sian.

"Get – away – from – there –" she said, striding towards us and starting to chivvy us along, flapping her arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner …"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Chrissie hotly, stopping short and glaring at Perdy.

"Yeah, and besides," said Chris, backing Chrissie up, "we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I told Kestrel, poor thing," said Perdy fiercely.

"Is she all right?" Sian asked concernedly.

"All I know is that she seems to be under the impression that you four are going to be expelled; I've never seen anyone so upset, crying her eyes out. She was when I saw her, the poor dear. You might think of her, Chrissie. All the first-years are thoroughly over-excited by this business. And you might start thinking about Kestrel too, Sian," Perdy said, turning to Sian, making her look stunned and confused. "After all, you are her elder sister and are meant to be looking out for her –"

"Perdy, I do look out for her!" said Sian indignantly.

"Then prove it, Sian!"

"Hey, are you saying that our eldest sister, who has taken care of us for years, far more effectively than our parents have, doesn't care about any of us?" said Chris.

"Yeah, 'cause if so, you've got another thing coming, Perdy!" said Chrissie.

Sian shook her head and said, "Of course she's not saying that, you two, so just calm down right now!" she said, sounding like her usual, bossy self. She looked st Perdy, and said in a much calmer, caring tone, "Thank you for telling me that, Perdy. I'll make sure that she's all right and she gets cheered up, too. I'll also get Beth to keep an eye on her for me – well, you know how close those two are – and I'll help her with her homework a bit more, and make sure that she gets a bit more rest. That's what's needed here, me thinks."

"Thank you, Sian," said Perdy, with a small smile at her. "Chrissie, you'd better start taking a leaf out of Sian's book. She's got her priorities in the right place."

"Oh, don't you start on me with your moaning and your groaning, Perdy!" said Chrissie. "I get enough of that from Sian as it is –"

"Hey!" Sian said, looking insulted. "I am right here, you know!"

Chrissie turned to Sian, her expression quickly switching from angry to apologetic and said, "Sorry, Sian. Just making a point here. No offence was intended, I assure you."

"Thank you," said Sian, looking much happier now. "Just make sure you don't say anything like to me or anything else again, you hear me, sister?"

Chrissie nodded her head slowly at Sian, who said, "Good," and left it at that.

Chrissie turned back to Perdy and said, "You're just worried that you won't get your Head Girl badge!"

"Five points from Lion-Heart!" said Perdy tersely, fingering her Prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll be writing to your father and seeing the headmistress; seeing as she's your mother, she could sort you out!"

And she strode off, the back of her neck as red as Chrissie's cheeks.

0000

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I chose seats as far as possible from Perdy in the common room that night. Chrissie was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting her Charms homework. When she reached absently for her wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as her homework, Chrissie slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To mine and Chris' surprise, Sian followed suit. She also told me after Perdy had walked off that she and the rest of the Dawson family were known for having unfortunate bad tempers, too, so it was nothing big for them, and that I should really think nothing of it. She also talked to Beth straight after dinner about keeping a close eye on Kestrel, which Beth agreed to; and part of their agreement was that Sian would talk to Beth in secret every week or so to see how Kestrel was and to not tell Kestrel anything.

"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation we had just been having. "Who'd want all the Squibs, bright-brains and Muggle-borns out of Dragon Mort?"

"Let's think," said Chrissie, in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks that bright-brains and Muggle-borns are scum?"

She looked at Sian. Sian looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malty –"

"Of course I am!" said Chrissie. "You heard her . "You'll be next, Sackbrains!" Come on, you've only got to look at her foul rat face to know it's her –"

"Malty, the heir of Snake-Eyes?" said Sian sceptically.

"Look at her family," I said, closing my books too. "The whole lot of them have been in Snake-Eyes, she's always boasting about it. They could easily be Snake-Eyes descendents. Her mother's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Mysteries for centuries!" said Chris. "Handing it down, mother to daughter …"

"Well," said Sian cautiously, "it is possible …"

"But how do we prove it?" I said darkly.

"There might be a way," said Sian slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Perdy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect."

"If, in a month, you decide to explain yourself, you will let us know, won't you?" said Chrissie irritably.

"All right," said Sian coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Snake-Eyes common room and ask Malty a few questions without her realising it's us."

"But that's impossible," I said, as Chris and Chrissie laughed.

"No, it's not," said Sian. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Chris, Chrissie and I together.

"Triphorm mentioned it in class a few weeks ago –"

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Triphorm?" muttered Chrissie.

"It transforms you into someone else. Think about it! We could change into four Snake-Eyes. No one would know it was us. Malty would probably tell us anything. She's probably boasting about it in the Snake-Eyes common room right now, if only we could hear her."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Chris, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like four of the Snake-Eyes for ever?"

"It wears off after a while," said Sian, waving her hand impatiently, but getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Triphorm said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

There was only one way to get a book from the Restricted Section; you needed a signed note of permission from a teacher. But something weird happened after Sian said the word "library"; for you see, Chris said "yes", and Chrissie groaned.

"Why are you happy about that?" I asked Chris.

"It's because I like to sleep in a library, Kiara?" he answered simply.

"I'm sorry, but you like to sleep in a library?" I said sceptically.

"Yes," Sian said, "you see, Kiara, the reason why my brother likes to sleep in a library is because he finds the gentle and silent hum soothing to his mind and his aura, and therefore it helps him sleep."

"OK," I said slowly, as I turned to Chrissie. "But Chrissie, why did you groan?"

"Because working makes me hungry," she said grumpily.

"Sister, you're always hungry," said Sian pointedly.

"No, I'm not!" said Chrissie defensively.

"Yes, you are, Chrissie, for you're eating a chocolate bar right now," said Sian, pointing to the chocolate bar in Chrissie's hand, proving a point as always.

"OK, you've got me," said Chrissie. "It's just that I really hate going to the library, 'cause it feels like working."

"Oh, come on now, Chrissie," Sian exasperated, pointing her head to the sky and then looking at Chrissie. "I mean, it's not as if all the books in the library are going to swoop down on you all at once and start eating you alive from cover to cover now, is it?"

There were times when Sian had a sense of humour, and it had to be appreciated, and this was one of those times; for as soon as she said this, Chris and I started laughing, and Sian had a satisfied smile on her face. Chrissie, however, was not impressed by this. When Chris and I had calmed down, we saw that she was looking rather glum.

"Sorry, Chrissie," I said, "but you gotta admit, Sian does have a point." And you know what, Chrissie actually acknowledged that Sian was right, which was a rare moment for both her and Sian.

Then Chrissie said, "Getting back to the point, though; I mean, it's hard to see why we'd want the book, really, if we weren't going to try and make one of the Potions."

"I think," said Chris, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance …"

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Chrissie. "They'd have to be really thick ..."

"Then I think we may just have a chance," said Sian slowly, with a rather cunning grin on her face and nodding all the while.