Chapter 3
Harry paced back and forth, back and forth the length of his cell-like room, pondering the conversation he'd heard over a month ago. Since then there had been not a word, not even a whisper, from the downstairs room in which he had heard the three men -- Nott, Danady, and the unnamed commander -- heatedly arguing. What had it all meant?
There had been much speculation about a "boy". Harry wasn't stupid; he knew they must mean him. And there had been a school -- it must have been Hogwarts, since Harry wasn't there. The 'exalted Master' might have been Voldemort, but he wasn't sure..
Oh, stop it, he told himself irritably. You can't help, even if you knew what it all meant.
But.was something going to happen at Hogwarts while he was gone? He was sure that something was, and that it wouldn't be a nice "something". The last word of the conversation, the one he had barely caught, lurked in the back of his mind -- monster.
His thoughts were interrupted as the disdainful Narcissa Malfoy came to deliver a tray of food. As always, she was silent -- until she reached the door. In the doorframe, she turned around and exploded "Eat the food, boy!" and then left the room once more.
Harry stood, holding the tray, in shock. What had that meant? Obviously something was troubling her . and the outburst must have meant something different than just "Eat the food, boy!".
He shook his head slightly, as if he were trying to shake the thought from his mind. Ravenously he turned on the contents of the tray -- only a cup of cold soup and a crust of questionable bread. "Eat the food, boy!"? What on earth could it mean, anyway?
Voices drifted up to him from the floor below. He noted it absently, and then did a double take: the floor below? That was the room in which the three men had argued! That was the room in which nothing had been heard since that argument! Dropping his tray, heedless of the contents, he threw his glasses onto the floor and pressed his face firmly against the carpet.
It seemed as if there was another heated conversation going on in the room. This time he thought he heard a woman and a man, both talking angrily in raised voices.
"It's a daft idea," the woman screamed. Harry started as he recognized Narcissa Malfoy's tone, the same that had shouted at him to eat his food.
"Narcissa --" yes, it was her, Harry thought -- "You don't understand. He'll come to no harm --"
"What if this thing were to run mad and attack them all?!" the woman screeched again. "It's a mad idea, I tell you!"
"Narcissa.."
"Stop it! Stop it, will you! You and your patronizing ways! Just stop it." Narcissa had screamed this last louder than the rest, and a door slammed below Harry's room. He heard the man mutter unintelligibly, and then the door opened again and, Harry thought, another person entered the room and addressed the second in a loud, pompous tone. Was it Nott, the man in the previous argument? It sounded like him, but he could not have been sure.
"Good evening, sir. I trust I find you well?"
The second man mumbled something, making both of them laugh.
"How is she taking it now?" the visitor asked suddenly.
"Terribly. She's got those silly fears in her head --" the first man swore loudly.
"Yes, I do understand," the visitor mused. "Anything I could do to help?"
"Just go find something to do. The exalted Master relies on me to keep things in order."
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy." The downstairs door opened and closed gently, and Harry stood. Slipping his glasses back onto his face, he walked to the small, heavily guarded window he had noticed upon arrival and peered through the thick panes of glass to the forest below.
He seemed to be in a large house, judging from the wing extending in the background to his left. It was backed by a forest -- he craned his neck around to try and see what the front was like, but couldn't. He looked down -- it didn't seem to be so long of a way. Maybe if he could open the window . ?
He tried to pry open the shimmering lock, but it wouldn't budge. Thinking a moment, he drew his wand from inside his robes -- why had they left him his wand, anyway? -- and, thinking again, pointed it squarely at the lock. "Alohomora!" he said, and waited.
He hadn't expected much to happen, and it didn't. Sighing, he began to pry at the lock again -- and it opened with surprising ease. Was the Alohomora charm the key?
Stealthily -- now that he had the window open, he was afraid to alert the household -- he let the window swing open, and then he climbed carefully onto the jutting ledge and swung his legs out of the window. It was only about ten feet down -- he was sure that he could make the distance more or less easily.
As quietly as he could, Harry scooted towards the outer edge of the ledge. When he reached it he turned around and let himself drop -- now he was hanging by his fingertips. He hung for a moment, breathing heavily and hoping that no one had heard him, and then dropped to the ground.
Harry landed on one foot, one knee. The rough gravel of the walkway cut through his robes and into the skin on his knee, making him wince in pain. He tore a strip of cloth off the bottom of his cloak, wrapped it tightly around the scrape, and rose until he stood shakily on his feet. Suddenly the thought crossed his mind -- This is too easy. I climb out of a window, and escape Voldemort?
He shivered with that thought, a sudden chill coursing up his spine. Then he turned and limped quietly to the corner of the large manor, where he stood and caught his breath.
".yes, I think that's a splendid solution."
His heart leaped into his throat as he heard the crunch of feet on gravel and the sound of two men talking. Pressing himself flat against the wall, he wished fervently for the Invisibility Cloak in his trunk back at the Burrow.
The two men -- both tall, black-robed and with masks dangling from their fingers -- had their backs to him as they walked and conferred in low voices, but Harry could hear quite clearly their conversation.
".is going well."
"It is? How many?"
"None, as of yet --"
"None?"
"None," the first speaker said frostily. "Yet."
"But, Mr. Malfoy --"
"The Master has his own reasons for doing things, Arrlimon Danady," Malfoy said coldly. "I trust you not to question them."
"But if the Master is to carry out his plan."
The voices grew lower as Malfoy and Danady turned a corner. Harry, intrigued by the day's second mysterious conversation, followed on tiptoe. As he peeked carefully around the side of the manor he saw Malfoy and Danady sitting at a small garden tea table. Malfoy's back was to Harry, but Arrlimon Danady stared straight at him.
Harry drew back quickly, but it was too late. He had seen the recognition in Danady's eyes, and he was not too surprised when a moment later Danady cut Malfoy off with a terse "Sir, I saw someone over there."
Malfoy, who had been talking quite cryptically about the 'Heir', the 'Master', the 'Beast' or the 'Monster', the 'School', and the 'Boy', looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked frostily. "I do not wish to explain the process again."
"You don't have to, sir, I caught it," Danady said. "But -- please -- look just around there."
The chair scraped against the garden patio as Malfoy stood. "Fine then, Danady," he said coldly. "I'll look, but if you are lying to me . time is worth many thousands of Galleons, these days."
Harry stood, paralyzed with fear, as he heard footsteps come nearer to where he stood.
A few moments later, Lucius Malfoy, mask swinging nonchalantly from his fingers, saw the boy crouching in terror against the wall. Danady stood behind him, a triumphant gleam in his eye. He was a tall, dark-haired man with gleaming black eyes and a sneer affixed permanently on his face. "I told you, didn't I," he muttered to Malfoy as they rounded the corner.
"Ah . Potter."
Malfoy spat the name like poison. Harry, petrified, did not move.
"So nice to see you again," Malfoy continued. "I trust you have been . ah . comfortable in your stay?"
Harry felt a rising tide of anger, but said nothing.
"No?" Malfoy obviously did not expect an answer. "So sad to hear it, Potter. However, I'm afraid you'll have to go back.."
A glint in his pale eye, he raised his wand until it was level with Harry's chest. "Crucio!" he cried suddenly, and smiled.
Harry was suddenly torn with searing pain, worse than any he had ever before experienced. He fell to the ground and tried to stop it, keep it from continuing, somehow . and failed. He screamed -- and it stopped.
Malfoy was laughing quietly. "You liked it, Potter?" he asked softly. "Would you like to do it again?"
Motionless, Harry waited for whatever came next. Suddenly, as Malfoy raised the wand to place the curse once more, Danady stepped forward swiftly and knocked the wand from his companion's hand.
Tight-lipped, Malfoy turned on his companion and let out a string of loud, angry curses. "Why did you do that?" he roared angrily.
Danady stood his ground calmly, guarding Malfoy's wand with his foot. "You'll kill the boy, sir," he said in a tone that was anything but respectful, "And then, I think, there would be a problem with the Master."
Malfoy gritted his teeth angrily, and turned back to Harry. "Fine," he muttered. Then, before Danady could move, he bent over and snatched up the wand. Harry cowered inwardly -- not the curse again!
But Malfoy did not perform the curse on his victim. Instead, with a few angrily muttered words he conjured ropes on both Harry and Danady. Grabbing hold of Harry's robe, he dragged him angrily along the wall until they reached a door. Shoving Harry inside, he proceeded to more-or-less kick him up a flight of stairs until they reached a shabby hallway carpeted with a dark purple -- the same carpet, Harry realized, as that of his "room".
Sure enough, a moment later Malfoy jerked open the door of the too-well- known cell-like room and shoved Harry inside, after which gesture the ropes binding his arms disappeared. With a muttered oath Malfoy slammed the door, locked it, and placed several protection spells on the lock, Harry could see. With a sinking heart, he noticed that the window, too, was shimmering even brighter with magic than before.
After a few moments he heard shouts from below, outside. Curiously he ran to the window, and saw Malfoy and Danady shouting at each other. Danady was still bound tightly with magical ropes, and his wand was in Malfoy's long fingers. Harry could not tell what they were saying, but it seemed that Malfoy was angry with his companion for knocking his wand away just as he was about to perform the "Crucio" curse again.
Sighing, Harry sat down on the bed. Half-heartedly he took out his wand (why had Malfoy not taken it from him earlier, anyway?) and performed the Unlocking Charm once more on the shimmering window lock, but nothing happened. He hadn't ever had a chance this afternoon, anyway.
A flash of purple light outside the window startled Harry, and he looked through the thick glass down on Malfoy and Danady. Arrlimon Danady was limp and pale -- but alive, still, he could tell.
As Malfoy, down below, raised his wand to strike a final blow to the black- haired man at his feet, Narcissa hurried to him and whispered urgently in his ear. Surprised, Malfoy turned away, and -- leaving Danady's limp form behind -- turned into the same door through which he had taken Harry just a few moments previous.
Harry held his breath, waiting for footsteps to fall in the outside corridor, for the door to open and for Malfoy and Narcissa to confront him --
But it never happened. What footfalls there were receded to another corridor, and Harry let his breath out loudly. He didn't feel like facing his captors right now.
* * *
Ron's stomach growled loudly as he and Hermione exited the black streamer- hung doorway at the end of Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party. "Do you think there'll be anything left at the feast?" he asked wearily.
"Probably," Hermione said. "Hey, what's that?"
Ron paled as he followed her gaze. "A spider," he whispered.
Hermione gave a nervous laugh. "A big spider," she added.
It was true -- before them, hiding in the corner of the corridor, was a very large spider. It was at least as big as Hermione's hand . she shivered. Ron shivered harder. "I hate spiders," he croaked. "Come on, let's go."
"No, wait a minute," Hermione said suddenly. "It's leaving. Let's follow it. Besides, the feast isn't over yet."
Ron said nothing, but lagged behind as Hermione followed the large arachnid up countless flights of stairs and through many, many corridors.
Finally they arrived at the start of a new corridor. On their left was a door proclaiming that this was a girl's toilet in peeling painted letters. Ron scooted away as he noticed a large, glinting puddle of water running along the side of the wall.
"That's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione explained darkly. They had lost sight of the spider a minute ago, and Ron was glad.
"The ghost at the party?" Ron asked. "The girl? That Peeves teased?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "Come on, we might as well see where the puddle goes."
They turned the corner to the corridor and found the rest of the puddle -- looking like a small lake in the narrow hallway -- in the middle, on the floor. Ron studied it for a moment, liking the way the moonlight glinted on the dark navy-colored water.
Hermione nudged him. "Ron, look," she said in a strained whisper. He followed her gaze.
"Oi," he whispered.
On the wall in front of them, ghostly writing had been painted. "The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened," it read. "Enemies of the Heir, Beware."
Below the writing, the statue of a cat hung. But it wasn't a statue.
It was Mrs. Norris, Argus Filch's cat, and she was stone.
Harry paced back and forth, back and forth the length of his cell-like room, pondering the conversation he'd heard over a month ago. Since then there had been not a word, not even a whisper, from the downstairs room in which he had heard the three men -- Nott, Danady, and the unnamed commander -- heatedly arguing. What had it all meant?
There had been much speculation about a "boy". Harry wasn't stupid; he knew they must mean him. And there had been a school -- it must have been Hogwarts, since Harry wasn't there. The 'exalted Master' might have been Voldemort, but he wasn't sure..
Oh, stop it, he told himself irritably. You can't help, even if you knew what it all meant.
But.was something going to happen at Hogwarts while he was gone? He was sure that something was, and that it wouldn't be a nice "something". The last word of the conversation, the one he had barely caught, lurked in the back of his mind -- monster.
His thoughts were interrupted as the disdainful Narcissa Malfoy came to deliver a tray of food. As always, she was silent -- until she reached the door. In the doorframe, she turned around and exploded "Eat the food, boy!" and then left the room once more.
Harry stood, holding the tray, in shock. What had that meant? Obviously something was troubling her . and the outburst must have meant something different than just "Eat the food, boy!".
He shook his head slightly, as if he were trying to shake the thought from his mind. Ravenously he turned on the contents of the tray -- only a cup of cold soup and a crust of questionable bread. "Eat the food, boy!"? What on earth could it mean, anyway?
Voices drifted up to him from the floor below. He noted it absently, and then did a double take: the floor below? That was the room in which the three men had argued! That was the room in which nothing had been heard since that argument! Dropping his tray, heedless of the contents, he threw his glasses onto the floor and pressed his face firmly against the carpet.
It seemed as if there was another heated conversation going on in the room. This time he thought he heard a woman and a man, both talking angrily in raised voices.
"It's a daft idea," the woman screamed. Harry started as he recognized Narcissa Malfoy's tone, the same that had shouted at him to eat his food.
"Narcissa --" yes, it was her, Harry thought -- "You don't understand. He'll come to no harm --"
"What if this thing were to run mad and attack them all?!" the woman screeched again. "It's a mad idea, I tell you!"
"Narcissa.."
"Stop it! Stop it, will you! You and your patronizing ways! Just stop it." Narcissa had screamed this last louder than the rest, and a door slammed below Harry's room. He heard the man mutter unintelligibly, and then the door opened again and, Harry thought, another person entered the room and addressed the second in a loud, pompous tone. Was it Nott, the man in the previous argument? It sounded like him, but he could not have been sure.
"Good evening, sir. I trust I find you well?"
The second man mumbled something, making both of them laugh.
"How is she taking it now?" the visitor asked suddenly.
"Terribly. She's got those silly fears in her head --" the first man swore loudly.
"Yes, I do understand," the visitor mused. "Anything I could do to help?"
"Just go find something to do. The exalted Master relies on me to keep things in order."
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy." The downstairs door opened and closed gently, and Harry stood. Slipping his glasses back onto his face, he walked to the small, heavily guarded window he had noticed upon arrival and peered through the thick panes of glass to the forest below.
He seemed to be in a large house, judging from the wing extending in the background to his left. It was backed by a forest -- he craned his neck around to try and see what the front was like, but couldn't. He looked down -- it didn't seem to be so long of a way. Maybe if he could open the window . ?
He tried to pry open the shimmering lock, but it wouldn't budge. Thinking a moment, he drew his wand from inside his robes -- why had they left him his wand, anyway? -- and, thinking again, pointed it squarely at the lock. "Alohomora!" he said, and waited.
He hadn't expected much to happen, and it didn't. Sighing, he began to pry at the lock again -- and it opened with surprising ease. Was the Alohomora charm the key?
Stealthily -- now that he had the window open, he was afraid to alert the household -- he let the window swing open, and then he climbed carefully onto the jutting ledge and swung his legs out of the window. It was only about ten feet down -- he was sure that he could make the distance more or less easily.
As quietly as he could, Harry scooted towards the outer edge of the ledge. When he reached it he turned around and let himself drop -- now he was hanging by his fingertips. He hung for a moment, breathing heavily and hoping that no one had heard him, and then dropped to the ground.
Harry landed on one foot, one knee. The rough gravel of the walkway cut through his robes and into the skin on his knee, making him wince in pain. He tore a strip of cloth off the bottom of his cloak, wrapped it tightly around the scrape, and rose until he stood shakily on his feet. Suddenly the thought crossed his mind -- This is too easy. I climb out of a window, and escape Voldemort?
He shivered with that thought, a sudden chill coursing up his spine. Then he turned and limped quietly to the corner of the large manor, where he stood and caught his breath.
".yes, I think that's a splendid solution."
His heart leaped into his throat as he heard the crunch of feet on gravel and the sound of two men talking. Pressing himself flat against the wall, he wished fervently for the Invisibility Cloak in his trunk back at the Burrow.
The two men -- both tall, black-robed and with masks dangling from their fingers -- had their backs to him as they walked and conferred in low voices, but Harry could hear quite clearly their conversation.
".is going well."
"It is? How many?"
"None, as of yet --"
"None?"
"None," the first speaker said frostily. "Yet."
"But, Mr. Malfoy --"
"The Master has his own reasons for doing things, Arrlimon Danady," Malfoy said coldly. "I trust you not to question them."
"But if the Master is to carry out his plan."
The voices grew lower as Malfoy and Danady turned a corner. Harry, intrigued by the day's second mysterious conversation, followed on tiptoe. As he peeked carefully around the side of the manor he saw Malfoy and Danady sitting at a small garden tea table. Malfoy's back was to Harry, but Arrlimon Danady stared straight at him.
Harry drew back quickly, but it was too late. He had seen the recognition in Danady's eyes, and he was not too surprised when a moment later Danady cut Malfoy off with a terse "Sir, I saw someone over there."
Malfoy, who had been talking quite cryptically about the 'Heir', the 'Master', the 'Beast' or the 'Monster', the 'School', and the 'Boy', looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked frostily. "I do not wish to explain the process again."
"You don't have to, sir, I caught it," Danady said. "But -- please -- look just around there."
The chair scraped against the garden patio as Malfoy stood. "Fine then, Danady," he said coldly. "I'll look, but if you are lying to me . time is worth many thousands of Galleons, these days."
Harry stood, paralyzed with fear, as he heard footsteps come nearer to where he stood.
A few moments later, Lucius Malfoy, mask swinging nonchalantly from his fingers, saw the boy crouching in terror against the wall. Danady stood behind him, a triumphant gleam in his eye. He was a tall, dark-haired man with gleaming black eyes and a sneer affixed permanently on his face. "I told you, didn't I," he muttered to Malfoy as they rounded the corner.
"Ah . Potter."
Malfoy spat the name like poison. Harry, petrified, did not move.
"So nice to see you again," Malfoy continued. "I trust you have been . ah . comfortable in your stay?"
Harry felt a rising tide of anger, but said nothing.
"No?" Malfoy obviously did not expect an answer. "So sad to hear it, Potter. However, I'm afraid you'll have to go back.."
A glint in his pale eye, he raised his wand until it was level with Harry's chest. "Crucio!" he cried suddenly, and smiled.
Harry was suddenly torn with searing pain, worse than any he had ever before experienced. He fell to the ground and tried to stop it, keep it from continuing, somehow . and failed. He screamed -- and it stopped.
Malfoy was laughing quietly. "You liked it, Potter?" he asked softly. "Would you like to do it again?"
Motionless, Harry waited for whatever came next. Suddenly, as Malfoy raised the wand to place the curse once more, Danady stepped forward swiftly and knocked the wand from his companion's hand.
Tight-lipped, Malfoy turned on his companion and let out a string of loud, angry curses. "Why did you do that?" he roared angrily.
Danady stood his ground calmly, guarding Malfoy's wand with his foot. "You'll kill the boy, sir," he said in a tone that was anything but respectful, "And then, I think, there would be a problem with the Master."
Malfoy gritted his teeth angrily, and turned back to Harry. "Fine," he muttered. Then, before Danady could move, he bent over and snatched up the wand. Harry cowered inwardly -- not the curse again!
But Malfoy did not perform the curse on his victim. Instead, with a few angrily muttered words he conjured ropes on both Harry and Danady. Grabbing hold of Harry's robe, he dragged him angrily along the wall until they reached a door. Shoving Harry inside, he proceeded to more-or-less kick him up a flight of stairs until they reached a shabby hallway carpeted with a dark purple -- the same carpet, Harry realized, as that of his "room".
Sure enough, a moment later Malfoy jerked open the door of the too-well- known cell-like room and shoved Harry inside, after which gesture the ropes binding his arms disappeared. With a muttered oath Malfoy slammed the door, locked it, and placed several protection spells on the lock, Harry could see. With a sinking heart, he noticed that the window, too, was shimmering even brighter with magic than before.
After a few moments he heard shouts from below, outside. Curiously he ran to the window, and saw Malfoy and Danady shouting at each other. Danady was still bound tightly with magical ropes, and his wand was in Malfoy's long fingers. Harry could not tell what they were saying, but it seemed that Malfoy was angry with his companion for knocking his wand away just as he was about to perform the "Crucio" curse again.
Sighing, Harry sat down on the bed. Half-heartedly he took out his wand (why had Malfoy not taken it from him earlier, anyway?) and performed the Unlocking Charm once more on the shimmering window lock, but nothing happened. He hadn't ever had a chance this afternoon, anyway.
A flash of purple light outside the window startled Harry, and he looked through the thick glass down on Malfoy and Danady. Arrlimon Danady was limp and pale -- but alive, still, he could tell.
As Malfoy, down below, raised his wand to strike a final blow to the black- haired man at his feet, Narcissa hurried to him and whispered urgently in his ear. Surprised, Malfoy turned away, and -- leaving Danady's limp form behind -- turned into the same door through which he had taken Harry just a few moments previous.
Harry held his breath, waiting for footsteps to fall in the outside corridor, for the door to open and for Malfoy and Narcissa to confront him --
But it never happened. What footfalls there were receded to another corridor, and Harry let his breath out loudly. He didn't feel like facing his captors right now.
* * *
Ron's stomach growled loudly as he and Hermione exited the black streamer- hung doorway at the end of Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party. "Do you think there'll be anything left at the feast?" he asked wearily.
"Probably," Hermione said. "Hey, what's that?"
Ron paled as he followed her gaze. "A spider," he whispered.
Hermione gave a nervous laugh. "A big spider," she added.
It was true -- before them, hiding in the corner of the corridor, was a very large spider. It was at least as big as Hermione's hand . she shivered. Ron shivered harder. "I hate spiders," he croaked. "Come on, let's go."
"No, wait a minute," Hermione said suddenly. "It's leaving. Let's follow it. Besides, the feast isn't over yet."
Ron said nothing, but lagged behind as Hermione followed the large arachnid up countless flights of stairs and through many, many corridors.
Finally they arrived at the start of a new corridor. On their left was a door proclaiming that this was a girl's toilet in peeling painted letters. Ron scooted away as he noticed a large, glinting puddle of water running along the side of the wall.
"That's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione explained darkly. They had lost sight of the spider a minute ago, and Ron was glad.
"The ghost at the party?" Ron asked. "The girl? That Peeves teased?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "Come on, we might as well see where the puddle goes."
They turned the corner to the corridor and found the rest of the puddle -- looking like a small lake in the narrow hallway -- in the middle, on the floor. Ron studied it for a moment, liking the way the moonlight glinted on the dark navy-colored water.
Hermione nudged him. "Ron, look," she said in a strained whisper. He followed her gaze.
"Oi," he whispered.
On the wall in front of them, ghostly writing had been painted. "The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened," it read. "Enemies of the Heir, Beware."
Below the writing, the statue of a cat hung. But it wasn't a statue.
It was Mrs. Norris, Argus Filch's cat, and she was stone.