Chapter 9
The next day in Potions, Hermione was very obviously distracted and kept dumping ingredients into the potion in the wrong order, causing Snape to offer sneering remarks about hers and Ron's sickly Confusing Concoction.
"Miss Granger, it is clear that you did not wait for the bubbling to settle before added the snakes' tongues. That will be three points from Gryffindor."
Several other Gryffindors shot nasty looks at Hermione, as Snape deducted point after point after point due to her careless preoccupation. At one period she added too much of one ingredient (boiled eelskin), causing it to bubble up frantically just as Ron was reaching in to stir, burning him badly.
Snape looked daggers at Hermione after this, and sent Ron up to the hospital wing. "Miss Granger, that will be twenty points from Gryffindor"- there was a startled gasp-"for carelessness resulting in injury. Miss Parkinson, would you please help Miss Granger with her Concoction."
Smirking, Pansy Parkinson-a nasty-tempered Slytherin girl who ogled Draco Malfoy wherever he went-stepped up beside Hermione, shoving her sideways as she did so.
Hermione gritted her teeth and stirred, making herself focus more on the Confusing Concoction and less on the Polyjuice Potion.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ron was faring badly in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was rubbing brilliant green salve on it, which stung badly. "It's a bad burn," she'd said shortly when he entered. "Bleeding, too. I don't know how fast I'll be able to fix it."
"But," Ron had said, "You don't mean that you'd keep me long-I thought you could fix things like burns in an instant!"
"I can," Madam Pomfrey said grimly, "Fix burns. But this is no ordinary burn. The acid in the potion (what did the girl think she was doing) seems to have wormed its way inside your hand, and it could do some serious damage if it isn't treated right."
"So, how long will I have to stay?" Ron asked gloomily, picturing three, four, or even five hours ahead spent in the hospital wing.
"Most likely all night," Madam Pomfrey said, rubbing the salve harder. Ron winced, and she stopped. "That's all for now," she said. "We'll have to do that every hour for fourteen hours, and you'll have to take these-," she held up a large bottle of brilliantly orange pills-"Two every four hours until you're discharged. Which will be when I'm done with the salve."
Ron groaned; it was only eight p.m. right now. "All night?" he asked resignedly. "Are you positive?"
"Yes," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'm sorry, but it will fix it. You really should be more careful in the future," she added severely. "Severus' potions can be dangerous."
Ron nodded and sat down, drawing out a spellbook to read up in. It would be a long night.
* * *
Harry was pacing up and down the room, his mind wandering idly, when Isabel and Danady appeared, startling him greatly. Danady looked very different then he had last night-his black hair was brushed and trimmed and his eyes were no longer bloodshot. His robes, too, were clean and mended, and there was no sign that he had spent the past few weeks as a desparate fugitive, relying solely on an Invisibility cloak to feed him and safeguard him from the wrath of his brother, Lucius Malfoy.
"We've come to tell you what we have learned, for we think you should know," Danady said. "And, to say goodbye. We are of no use at this post, since I have been found out and now-since her disappearance last night- Isabel is cast into suspicion."
Harry was nonplussed. "What d'you mean, tell you what we have learned?" he asked.
"What we have found about the plot-the plot to destroy Hogwarts," Isabel supplied. "The very one that we were told to watch for by the Head Auror."
"Oh," Harry said. "Er.have a seat. Sorry there isn't anything to sit on but the bed."
Isabel smiled, and sat down. She pulled Danady down beside her, and he began:
"I'm sure that a boy as intelligent as you has heard conversation around the house about certain people, places, and things-,"
"The Boy, the Monster, and the School?" Harry asked. Danady nodded.
"Yes-and I'm sure that you've guessed what the Boy and the School are." He grinned suddenly. "I must say that I'm responsible for some of that-I lured Lucius and Mr. Nott into the study below you to argue about it, giving up as much information as I could-I figured you'd hear, and decided that it was right you should know."
"Er.thanks," Harry said.
"You're welcome." Danady gave another brief smile. "It was-it was the most I could do."
"Go on," Isabel prompted.
"Oh yes. You know about the Boy and the School-,"
"And the Muggle-borns," Harry put in.
"Yes, and the Muggle-borns. But do you know about the Monster? Do you know how the plan all ties together?"
"No," Harry said dubiously. "How does it?"
"Have you ever heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" Danady asked.
"No," Harry said again.
Danady sighed. "When Hogwarts was founded by Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, they had disagreements-Slytherin believed that those accepted at Hogwarts should be pure-blood only; the others thought that anyone should be admitted. The argument came to a head at one time, and Slytherin left the school.
"Most wizards know this. What they do not know, and believe only to be legend, is this: Slytherin had built a secret chamber under the school-I believe it is situated under the lake, although you can reach it through one of the bathrooms. But that is not all: Slytherin, a Parslemouth, could talk to snakes, and he locked a terrible monster in the secret chamber before he left the school. This monster was a Basilisk-a giant snake so magically powerful that, along with having deadly venomous fangs, if you look in in the eye it will kill you."
"Wow," Harry breathed. "That thing is under Hogwarts? Or rather, under the lake? But why?"
"You remember I said that Slytherin hated Muggle-borns and wished to admit only pure-blood wizards and witches to the school?" When Harry nodded, he continued. "Well, Slytherin left this monster so that when his true Heir came to the school he could unseal the Chamber and release the horror within, to purge the school of unclean blood-that is, the Basilisk."
"And you say it's out now?" Harry asked, fear chilling him to the bone. "Running loose at Hogwarts?"
Danady nodded grimly. "Yes," he said. "As far as I can tell, there have been no deaths yet-only a cat that was Petrified, that is, turned to stone. But much worse will be done before it is over." Danady shuddered and a bit of the haunted, crazed look of the night before came into his eyes. "Few will remain," he said hoarsely.
"You've left out many parts, Arrlimon," Isabel reminded him gently. But then, as she saw the anguish he was in, she herself continued.
"What Arrlimon did not say is this: the Heir of Slytherin is none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort." She waited to let this sink in, then continued. "The other was-and I'm sure that you have guessed this- that, originally, you were to have been the ideal target. It just so happened that my brother-in-law found a different way to-to accomplish his mission. An easier one, from what I've heard from Narcissa."
Danady looked up, his eyes still haunted. "But they didn't call it off," he said bleakly. "I was there when the decision was made-I did my best to persuade Lucius and Voldemort that it would be best to let the monster remain in the Chamber, but my words held no weight with either of them. They went ahead, planning to destroy Hogwarts, student by student and teacher by teacher-I tried to stop them, I tried! I argued that with Albus Dumbledore at the head, their plan would get nowhere-but once more, my words were cast aside. Nothing helped."
He shuddered, and Isabel reached over comfortingly. "You did the best you could," she said softly. "Sometimes, that is all you can do."
But Danady was oblivious of the soothing words. He looked pleadingly at Harry, his eyes seeking forgiveness. "Harry, you must believe me," he said desolately. "I know how much Hogwarts means to you-how much your friends, your teachers mean to you-I feel responsible for all that is happening now. If only I had been here longer, perhaps my words would have held more importance-,"
"Words, from you or even from your brother, would not have swayed the Dark Lord when he was set on releasing the Basilisk," Isabel said firmly. "Arrlimon, you must get control of your emotions."
Harry, who had been silent during this interchange, spoke forth hesitantly. "Isabel-Mr. Danady-I have a question."
Isabel looked up, her face apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she said. "I hadn't finished-but I do not know how to finish, so it is just as well. Please, ask anything."
Harry fought to keep his voice steady as he asked, "What exactly does Voldemort plan to do, using the Basilisk?"
"Pick the Muggle-borns and friends of Muggles and Muggle-borns-in short, every student but those in Slytherin-off one by one, until a very small class is left-and a very few teachers, as well." Isabel stopped for a moment, although this time Harry could not tell what for, before she continued stonily. "Dumbledore, although Voldemort has no power to kill him, will be safely removed from the school-voted off by the board of trustees, and kept at bay by the Dark supporters among the Ministry. How exactly they will accomplish this I do not know, but it will be done- Narcissa was sure of that."
"Will-," Harry began. Will Ron and Hermione become victims, too? he wanted to ask, but couldn't bring himself to face the inevitable answer. Danady, however, seemed to sense the question waiting to be ask, and nodded. "Everyone," he said. "Everyone who does not support the Dark. Hogwarts will be turned into an Institution for Dark Wizards-in-training."
Tears of rage welled up in Harry's eyes as he thought of Hogwarts, his real home, and his friends there-all destroyed, if Voldemort had his way. He jumped from the bed and began to pace angrily, balling his hands into fists. "HOW CAN HE DO THAT?" he shouted, and was awarded with a look of consternation on the faces of Isabel and Danady.
"I know how you feel, Harry," Isabel said desparately, "But please-please, Harry, don't shout-if Lucius found us here-the work we've done for the Head Auror-,"
But it was too late. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and a moment later the door flew open with a loud bang. Lucius Malfoy stood there, a trimphant gleam in his pale eyes as he pointed his wand at Danady. A moment later two masked followers drew behind him, wands covering Harry and Isabel.
"Get up!" Malfoy shouted to Danady, who stood slowly. His hand strayed to his wand, but before he could draw it Malfoy shouted something and a jet of orange light intercepted his hand, creating a large red welt where the curse had struck.
Rage gripped Harry suddenly, and he rushed at Malfoy. Before he could reach him, however, Malfoy had pointed his wand at Harry.
"Avada Kadavra," he shouted.
* * *
Ron watched, bored, as a dark shape fluttered across the dark sky outside the window of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey came bustling up, holding a pair of loose polka-dotted pajamas in one hand and a set of paper curtains in the other.
"Here," she said, handing the pajamas to Ron. She proceeded to hang the curtains around his bed, and ordered him to "go inside and change, it's getting late."
Without protesting Ron drew the curtains around him, and changed slowly into the gaudy pajamas. His hand smarted slightly from the last handful of salve rubbed into it, and the pain made him tired even this early. When he was done, he drew back the curtains and slowly climbed into bed, not even waiting for Madam Pomfrey to remove them.
"Good night, dear," she said to an almost-asleep Ron when she did come to take them down. "Miss Granger wanted to see you a few minutes ago, but I said No, dear, he's due for another dose of salve."
"Mmm," Ron murmured.
"I'm sorry," Madam Pomfrey continued, "If you wanted to see her. Perhaps tomorrow morning, if you're still here, I'll admit her."
"Mmm," Ron said again, and fell asleep.
* * *
Several hours later-he could not tell exactly how many-Ron woke again. At first he could not tell what had woken him, but then he heard the soft murmur of several voices by the bed next to him. "Careful," came Dumbledore's voice. Ron sat up slightly on one elbow and peered through the darkness to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were carrying what looked like a statue towards the bed.
"Easy," Dumbledore murmured, and there was a dull thud as the statue was set on the bed. "Go get Madam Pomfrey, Minerva."
Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Ron's bed and out of sight. A moment later she hurried back, followed closely by Madam Pomfrey.
Madam Pomfrey drew her breath in sharply. "Whatever could have happened?" she asked in a whisper.
"Another attack," Dumbledore said seriously. "Minerva found her on the stairs."
Ron's stomach gave a lurch. Slowly he raised himself up further and peered across to the next bed until he could see the statue. A ray of moonlight lanced across its staring face.
It was Caroline O'Connor, a Ravenclaw first-year who Ron knew faintly through Ginny. Caroline was known throughout the school as being entranced with cameras and wizard film, for-being Muggle-born-the idea of shifting pictures was quite a novelty. Around her neck was a wide strap holding a camera, which was held up in front of her face as if she had been caught while taking a picture.
"You don't think she managed to get a picture of the attacker, do you?" Professor McGonagall asked eagerly.
Wordlessly, Dumbledore wrenched the camera out of Caroline's grip. Carefully, he opened the back.
"Good gracious!" ejaculated Madam Pomfrey.
A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Ron caught the smell of burnt plastic.
"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted."
"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.
"It means," said Dumbledore, "That the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.
"But Albus.surely.who?"
"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Caroline. "The question is, how."
And from what Ron could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.
The next day in Potions, Hermione was very obviously distracted and kept dumping ingredients into the potion in the wrong order, causing Snape to offer sneering remarks about hers and Ron's sickly Confusing Concoction.
"Miss Granger, it is clear that you did not wait for the bubbling to settle before added the snakes' tongues. That will be three points from Gryffindor."
Several other Gryffindors shot nasty looks at Hermione, as Snape deducted point after point after point due to her careless preoccupation. At one period she added too much of one ingredient (boiled eelskin), causing it to bubble up frantically just as Ron was reaching in to stir, burning him badly.
Snape looked daggers at Hermione after this, and sent Ron up to the hospital wing. "Miss Granger, that will be twenty points from Gryffindor"- there was a startled gasp-"for carelessness resulting in injury. Miss Parkinson, would you please help Miss Granger with her Concoction."
Smirking, Pansy Parkinson-a nasty-tempered Slytherin girl who ogled Draco Malfoy wherever he went-stepped up beside Hermione, shoving her sideways as she did so.
Hermione gritted her teeth and stirred, making herself focus more on the Confusing Concoction and less on the Polyjuice Potion.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ron was faring badly in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was rubbing brilliant green salve on it, which stung badly. "It's a bad burn," she'd said shortly when he entered. "Bleeding, too. I don't know how fast I'll be able to fix it."
"But," Ron had said, "You don't mean that you'd keep me long-I thought you could fix things like burns in an instant!"
"I can," Madam Pomfrey said grimly, "Fix burns. But this is no ordinary burn. The acid in the potion (what did the girl think she was doing) seems to have wormed its way inside your hand, and it could do some serious damage if it isn't treated right."
"So, how long will I have to stay?" Ron asked gloomily, picturing three, four, or even five hours ahead spent in the hospital wing.
"Most likely all night," Madam Pomfrey said, rubbing the salve harder. Ron winced, and she stopped. "That's all for now," she said. "We'll have to do that every hour for fourteen hours, and you'll have to take these-," she held up a large bottle of brilliantly orange pills-"Two every four hours until you're discharged. Which will be when I'm done with the salve."
Ron groaned; it was only eight p.m. right now. "All night?" he asked resignedly. "Are you positive?"
"Yes," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'm sorry, but it will fix it. You really should be more careful in the future," she added severely. "Severus' potions can be dangerous."
Ron nodded and sat down, drawing out a spellbook to read up in. It would be a long night.
* * *
Harry was pacing up and down the room, his mind wandering idly, when Isabel and Danady appeared, startling him greatly. Danady looked very different then he had last night-his black hair was brushed and trimmed and his eyes were no longer bloodshot. His robes, too, were clean and mended, and there was no sign that he had spent the past few weeks as a desparate fugitive, relying solely on an Invisibility cloak to feed him and safeguard him from the wrath of his brother, Lucius Malfoy.
"We've come to tell you what we have learned, for we think you should know," Danady said. "And, to say goodbye. We are of no use at this post, since I have been found out and now-since her disappearance last night- Isabel is cast into suspicion."
Harry was nonplussed. "What d'you mean, tell you what we have learned?" he asked.
"What we have found about the plot-the plot to destroy Hogwarts," Isabel supplied. "The very one that we were told to watch for by the Head Auror."
"Oh," Harry said. "Er.have a seat. Sorry there isn't anything to sit on but the bed."
Isabel smiled, and sat down. She pulled Danady down beside her, and he began:
"I'm sure that a boy as intelligent as you has heard conversation around the house about certain people, places, and things-,"
"The Boy, the Monster, and the School?" Harry asked. Danady nodded.
"Yes-and I'm sure that you've guessed what the Boy and the School are." He grinned suddenly. "I must say that I'm responsible for some of that-I lured Lucius and Mr. Nott into the study below you to argue about it, giving up as much information as I could-I figured you'd hear, and decided that it was right you should know."
"Er.thanks," Harry said.
"You're welcome." Danady gave another brief smile. "It was-it was the most I could do."
"Go on," Isabel prompted.
"Oh yes. You know about the Boy and the School-,"
"And the Muggle-borns," Harry put in.
"Yes, and the Muggle-borns. But do you know about the Monster? Do you know how the plan all ties together?"
"No," Harry said dubiously. "How does it?"
"Have you ever heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" Danady asked.
"No," Harry said again.
Danady sighed. "When Hogwarts was founded by Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, they had disagreements-Slytherin believed that those accepted at Hogwarts should be pure-blood only; the others thought that anyone should be admitted. The argument came to a head at one time, and Slytherin left the school.
"Most wizards know this. What they do not know, and believe only to be legend, is this: Slytherin had built a secret chamber under the school-I believe it is situated under the lake, although you can reach it through one of the bathrooms. But that is not all: Slytherin, a Parslemouth, could talk to snakes, and he locked a terrible monster in the secret chamber before he left the school. This monster was a Basilisk-a giant snake so magically powerful that, along with having deadly venomous fangs, if you look in in the eye it will kill you."
"Wow," Harry breathed. "That thing is under Hogwarts? Or rather, under the lake? But why?"
"You remember I said that Slytherin hated Muggle-borns and wished to admit only pure-blood wizards and witches to the school?" When Harry nodded, he continued. "Well, Slytherin left this monster so that when his true Heir came to the school he could unseal the Chamber and release the horror within, to purge the school of unclean blood-that is, the Basilisk."
"And you say it's out now?" Harry asked, fear chilling him to the bone. "Running loose at Hogwarts?"
Danady nodded grimly. "Yes," he said. "As far as I can tell, there have been no deaths yet-only a cat that was Petrified, that is, turned to stone. But much worse will be done before it is over." Danady shuddered and a bit of the haunted, crazed look of the night before came into his eyes. "Few will remain," he said hoarsely.
"You've left out many parts, Arrlimon," Isabel reminded him gently. But then, as she saw the anguish he was in, she herself continued.
"What Arrlimon did not say is this: the Heir of Slytherin is none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort." She waited to let this sink in, then continued. "The other was-and I'm sure that you have guessed this- that, originally, you were to have been the ideal target. It just so happened that my brother-in-law found a different way to-to accomplish his mission. An easier one, from what I've heard from Narcissa."
Danady looked up, his eyes still haunted. "But they didn't call it off," he said bleakly. "I was there when the decision was made-I did my best to persuade Lucius and Voldemort that it would be best to let the monster remain in the Chamber, but my words held no weight with either of them. They went ahead, planning to destroy Hogwarts, student by student and teacher by teacher-I tried to stop them, I tried! I argued that with Albus Dumbledore at the head, their plan would get nowhere-but once more, my words were cast aside. Nothing helped."
He shuddered, and Isabel reached over comfortingly. "You did the best you could," she said softly. "Sometimes, that is all you can do."
But Danady was oblivious of the soothing words. He looked pleadingly at Harry, his eyes seeking forgiveness. "Harry, you must believe me," he said desolately. "I know how much Hogwarts means to you-how much your friends, your teachers mean to you-I feel responsible for all that is happening now. If only I had been here longer, perhaps my words would have held more importance-,"
"Words, from you or even from your brother, would not have swayed the Dark Lord when he was set on releasing the Basilisk," Isabel said firmly. "Arrlimon, you must get control of your emotions."
Harry, who had been silent during this interchange, spoke forth hesitantly. "Isabel-Mr. Danady-I have a question."
Isabel looked up, her face apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she said. "I hadn't finished-but I do not know how to finish, so it is just as well. Please, ask anything."
Harry fought to keep his voice steady as he asked, "What exactly does Voldemort plan to do, using the Basilisk?"
"Pick the Muggle-borns and friends of Muggles and Muggle-borns-in short, every student but those in Slytherin-off one by one, until a very small class is left-and a very few teachers, as well." Isabel stopped for a moment, although this time Harry could not tell what for, before she continued stonily. "Dumbledore, although Voldemort has no power to kill him, will be safely removed from the school-voted off by the board of trustees, and kept at bay by the Dark supporters among the Ministry. How exactly they will accomplish this I do not know, but it will be done- Narcissa was sure of that."
"Will-," Harry began. Will Ron and Hermione become victims, too? he wanted to ask, but couldn't bring himself to face the inevitable answer. Danady, however, seemed to sense the question waiting to be ask, and nodded. "Everyone," he said. "Everyone who does not support the Dark. Hogwarts will be turned into an Institution for Dark Wizards-in-training."
Tears of rage welled up in Harry's eyes as he thought of Hogwarts, his real home, and his friends there-all destroyed, if Voldemort had his way. He jumped from the bed and began to pace angrily, balling his hands into fists. "HOW CAN HE DO THAT?" he shouted, and was awarded with a look of consternation on the faces of Isabel and Danady.
"I know how you feel, Harry," Isabel said desparately, "But please-please, Harry, don't shout-if Lucius found us here-the work we've done for the Head Auror-,"
But it was too late. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and a moment later the door flew open with a loud bang. Lucius Malfoy stood there, a trimphant gleam in his pale eyes as he pointed his wand at Danady. A moment later two masked followers drew behind him, wands covering Harry and Isabel.
"Get up!" Malfoy shouted to Danady, who stood slowly. His hand strayed to his wand, but before he could draw it Malfoy shouted something and a jet of orange light intercepted his hand, creating a large red welt where the curse had struck.
Rage gripped Harry suddenly, and he rushed at Malfoy. Before he could reach him, however, Malfoy had pointed his wand at Harry.
"Avada Kadavra," he shouted.
* * *
Ron watched, bored, as a dark shape fluttered across the dark sky outside the window of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey came bustling up, holding a pair of loose polka-dotted pajamas in one hand and a set of paper curtains in the other.
"Here," she said, handing the pajamas to Ron. She proceeded to hang the curtains around his bed, and ordered him to "go inside and change, it's getting late."
Without protesting Ron drew the curtains around him, and changed slowly into the gaudy pajamas. His hand smarted slightly from the last handful of salve rubbed into it, and the pain made him tired even this early. When he was done, he drew back the curtains and slowly climbed into bed, not even waiting for Madam Pomfrey to remove them.
"Good night, dear," she said to an almost-asleep Ron when she did come to take them down. "Miss Granger wanted to see you a few minutes ago, but I said No, dear, he's due for another dose of salve."
"Mmm," Ron murmured.
"I'm sorry," Madam Pomfrey continued, "If you wanted to see her. Perhaps tomorrow morning, if you're still here, I'll admit her."
"Mmm," Ron said again, and fell asleep.
* * *
Several hours later-he could not tell exactly how many-Ron woke again. At first he could not tell what had woken him, but then he heard the soft murmur of several voices by the bed next to him. "Careful," came Dumbledore's voice. Ron sat up slightly on one elbow and peered through the darkness to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were carrying what looked like a statue towards the bed.
"Easy," Dumbledore murmured, and there was a dull thud as the statue was set on the bed. "Go get Madam Pomfrey, Minerva."
Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Ron's bed and out of sight. A moment later she hurried back, followed closely by Madam Pomfrey.
Madam Pomfrey drew her breath in sharply. "Whatever could have happened?" she asked in a whisper.
"Another attack," Dumbledore said seriously. "Minerva found her on the stairs."
Ron's stomach gave a lurch. Slowly he raised himself up further and peered across to the next bed until he could see the statue. A ray of moonlight lanced across its staring face.
It was Caroline O'Connor, a Ravenclaw first-year who Ron knew faintly through Ginny. Caroline was known throughout the school as being entranced with cameras and wizard film, for-being Muggle-born-the idea of shifting pictures was quite a novelty. Around her neck was a wide strap holding a camera, which was held up in front of her face as if she had been caught while taking a picture.
"You don't think she managed to get a picture of the attacker, do you?" Professor McGonagall asked eagerly.
Wordlessly, Dumbledore wrenched the camera out of Caroline's grip. Carefully, he opened the back.
"Good gracious!" ejaculated Madam Pomfrey.
A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Ron caught the smell of burnt plastic.
"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted."
"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.
"It means," said Dumbledore, "That the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.
"But Albus.surely.who?"
"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Caroline. "The question is, how."
And from what Ron could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.