Chapter 14
Harry woke after what seemed not long at all. The sleepiness had gone from his mind, to be replaced by a presiding calm, so strong that it smothered his fears in an instant.
Stand up, a voice commanded from somewhere inside his head. Without meaning to, he rose smoothly from the bed. The sense of calm happiness did not go away.
Walk forward, the voice said. Suddenly Harry realized that the voice was speaking aloud, resonating through the stone room.
Stop, commanded the voice. This time it bore a hint of a cold smile.
Walk out of this room, the voice commanded after a moment.
Harry walked forward obediently, right into the large, stone door.
Leave the room, the voice commanded more insistently.
"Why?" thought a part of Harry suddenly. "Why should I leave the room?" he did not realize that he'd said it aloud until there came a sound of annoyance from the commanding voice.
Leave the room, it repeated suddenly. Leave the room!
"What if I don't want to?" Harry asked. "What if I like it here?"
Leave the room, said the voice a third time, with a bite of impatience.
"No," he thought stubbornly. "I won't."
You will! the voice roared.
Harry found himself crashing into the door once more, this time with much more force. It seemed that he had both left the room and stayed in it at the last, the voice being too powerful to completely overwhelm.
Suddenly the calm feeling left him abruptly. He was huddled on the ground beside the door, rubbing his forehead where it had hit the door. His hand came away sticky.
What was that? Harry thought. It seemed to have started before he slept. He realized with a jolt he could not remember what had happened to make him fall asleep, or why it had given him such a vague sense of worry.
* * *
"Don't swing your arms like that," Hermione muttered to Ron.
"Eh?"
"Goyle holds them sort of stiff. You're swinging them around like a gorilla."
"Thanks a lot, Hermione," Ron said. "A gorilla?"
"Well-,"
"Whatever, is this right?" Ron cut her off.
"Yeah, that's better."
They went in silence down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin to follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.
"Any ideas?" muttered Ron.
"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast over there," said Hermione, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. No sooner had she spoken the words than none other than Draco Malfoy emerged from the entrance.
"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time, Goyle? I want to show you both something really funny."
Hermione did her best to adopt a simpering smile as they followed him down several flights of stairs and through several labyrinthine passages until they came to a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.
"What's the new password again?" he said to Hermione.
"Er-," said Hermione.
"Oh yeah-pure blood! Said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and Ron and Hermione followed him.
The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.
"Wait here," said Malfoy to Hermione and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it-my father's just sent it to me-"
Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Hermione and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home.
Malfoy came back a minute later, holding a newspaper clipping. Pulling a chair up beside Hermione, he thrust it under her nose.
"That'll give you a laugh," he said.
Ron saw Hermione's eyes widen in shock. She read the clipping quickly, gave a forced giggle, and passed it to Ron.
It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it read:
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."
Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.
"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Ron handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"
"Ha, ha," said Ron bleakly.
"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much that he should snap his wand in half and go join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."
"Of course," said Hermione in a strangled sort of voice. Malfoy gave her an odd look, but didn't say anything more.
Ron's face contorted with fury.
"What's up with you, Goyle?" Malfoy snapped.
"Stomachache," Ron grunted.
"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised that the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like them in."
He was quiet for a moment. Hermione, glancing at her watch, said quickly, "Oh, Draco, do you know who it is?"
"I've told you before, I don't have any idea," snapped Malfoy.
"You must have some idea who's behind it all," grunted Ron, or rather Goyle.
"How many times to I have to tell you I don't know? Father won't even tell me about the last time that the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing-last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time-I hope it's Granger."
"Do you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?" said Hermione, pretending fawning interest.
"Oh, yeah, whoever it was was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."
He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"
"Oh no!" Hermione cried, concern in her voice. Ron had to admit, she was a good actress.
"Yeah." said Malfoy. "Luckily, they didn't fin much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing room floor-,"
"Ho!" said Ron.
Malfoy looked at him. So did Hermione. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening-their hour was up, Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly given Hermione, he must be, too."
"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted.
"Er.splitting headache," Hermione said nervously. Without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Ron could feel his feet slipping around in Goyle's boatlike shoes and had to hoist up his robes as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the closet where they'd locked Goyle. Leaving their shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."
Hermione glanced in the cracked mirror. She was completely back to normal.
* * *
A stinging sensation in his right hand woke Harry. He opened his eyes only to see by the light of the candle-which he now kept burning incessantly, as there was never a shortage of the tall green candles-the large spider sitting on it.
Sitting up, he brushed the spider off and reached for the jar of healing salve. He rubbed it all over his right hand and the pain cooled instantly.
It was several days since the strange experience with the unknown curse. Harry had become wary of every noise, every slight movement in the dungeon. He wished that he had his wand with him, though for nothing more than sheer comfort.
What could I do, anyway, he thought ruefully, charm my way out of the dungeon?
He hadn't seen his wand for several weeks, though he could not place exactly when it had been taken from him. Sometime after his attempt at escape, he supposed.
A spider crawled over his foot. He kicked it off before it could bite him and continued to sit on the bed with his back to the wall, aimlessly staring at the heavy, locked door of the dungeon.
I wonder what's happening at school, Harry thought suddenly. With the thought came a chill-now he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The heavy dungeon door seemed to blur before his eyes, and he saw people running.teachers talking worriedly in soft whispers.students being pursued by a fanged beast, half-hidden in gloomy shadow. Harry shuddered. He had been haunted by the thoughts of mayhem at Hogwarts ever since Danady had been killed. Nothing seemed to help; ever-present in his mind were the pictures of Ron and Hermione cornered by the monster-again, and again, and again the scene played itself over in his mind-
Harry shook uncontrollably. It was too horrible to think about-so he didn't. He thought instead about the wealth of detail on the spider crawling up the wall beside him.
He wondered what the spiders did all day, alone in the dark of this room. Did they simply crawl around, waiting for an unsuspecting, blind bug to land in their nets? Did they sometimes leave through means unknown to find sunlight and fresh air? Or were they trapped, as he was, for as long as the door remained shut?
The spider stopped when it was level with his nose. It stood as if glued to the stone, not moving a centimeter from where it stood. It seemed to be waiting for something.
Without warning it began to race up the wall and to the right a little. It disappeared into the shadows, and Harry sat back on the bed with a sigh. So not much would be determined by the movement of the spiders after all, he thought dismally.
It seemed as if he was in for a long stay.
Harry woke after what seemed not long at all. The sleepiness had gone from his mind, to be replaced by a presiding calm, so strong that it smothered his fears in an instant.
Stand up, a voice commanded from somewhere inside his head. Without meaning to, he rose smoothly from the bed. The sense of calm happiness did not go away.
Walk forward, the voice said. Suddenly Harry realized that the voice was speaking aloud, resonating through the stone room.
Stop, commanded the voice. This time it bore a hint of a cold smile.
Walk out of this room, the voice commanded after a moment.
Harry walked forward obediently, right into the large, stone door.
Leave the room, the voice commanded more insistently.
"Why?" thought a part of Harry suddenly. "Why should I leave the room?" he did not realize that he'd said it aloud until there came a sound of annoyance from the commanding voice.
Leave the room, it repeated suddenly. Leave the room!
"What if I don't want to?" Harry asked. "What if I like it here?"
Leave the room, said the voice a third time, with a bite of impatience.
"No," he thought stubbornly. "I won't."
You will! the voice roared.
Harry found himself crashing into the door once more, this time with much more force. It seemed that he had both left the room and stayed in it at the last, the voice being too powerful to completely overwhelm.
Suddenly the calm feeling left him abruptly. He was huddled on the ground beside the door, rubbing his forehead where it had hit the door. His hand came away sticky.
What was that? Harry thought. It seemed to have started before he slept. He realized with a jolt he could not remember what had happened to make him fall asleep, or why it had given him such a vague sense of worry.
* * *
"Don't swing your arms like that," Hermione muttered to Ron.
"Eh?"
"Goyle holds them sort of stiff. You're swinging them around like a gorilla."
"Thanks a lot, Hermione," Ron said. "A gorilla?"
"Well-,"
"Whatever, is this right?" Ron cut her off.
"Yeah, that's better."
They went in silence down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin to follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.
"Any ideas?" muttered Ron.
"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast over there," said Hermione, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. No sooner had she spoken the words than none other than Draco Malfoy emerged from the entrance.
"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time, Goyle? I want to show you both something really funny."
Hermione did her best to adopt a simpering smile as they followed him down several flights of stairs and through several labyrinthine passages until they came to a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.
"What's the new password again?" he said to Hermione.
"Er-," said Hermione.
"Oh yeah-pure blood! Said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and Ron and Hermione followed him.
The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.
"Wait here," said Malfoy to Hermione and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it-my father's just sent it to me-"
Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Hermione and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home.
Malfoy came back a minute later, holding a newspaper clipping. Pulling a chair up beside Hermione, he thrust it under her nose.
"That'll give you a laugh," he said.
Ron saw Hermione's eyes widen in shock. She read the clipping quickly, gave a forced giggle, and passed it to Ron.
It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it read:
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."
Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.
"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Ron handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"
"Ha, ha," said Ron bleakly.
"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much that he should snap his wand in half and go join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."
"Of course," said Hermione in a strangled sort of voice. Malfoy gave her an odd look, but didn't say anything more.
Ron's face contorted with fury.
"What's up with you, Goyle?" Malfoy snapped.
"Stomachache," Ron grunted.
"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised that the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like them in."
He was quiet for a moment. Hermione, glancing at her watch, said quickly, "Oh, Draco, do you know who it is?"
"I've told you before, I don't have any idea," snapped Malfoy.
"You must have some idea who's behind it all," grunted Ron, or rather Goyle.
"How many times to I have to tell you I don't know? Father won't even tell me about the last time that the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing-last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time-I hope it's Granger."
"Do you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?" said Hermione, pretending fawning interest.
"Oh, yeah, whoever it was was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."
He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"
"Oh no!" Hermione cried, concern in her voice. Ron had to admit, she was a good actress.
"Yeah." said Malfoy. "Luckily, they didn't fin much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing room floor-,"
"Ho!" said Ron.
Malfoy looked at him. So did Hermione. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening-their hour was up, Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly given Hermione, he must be, too."
"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted.
"Er.splitting headache," Hermione said nervously. Without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Ron could feel his feet slipping around in Goyle's boatlike shoes and had to hoist up his robes as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the closet where they'd locked Goyle. Leaving their shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."
Hermione glanced in the cracked mirror. She was completely back to normal.
* * *
A stinging sensation in his right hand woke Harry. He opened his eyes only to see by the light of the candle-which he now kept burning incessantly, as there was never a shortage of the tall green candles-the large spider sitting on it.
Sitting up, he brushed the spider off and reached for the jar of healing salve. He rubbed it all over his right hand and the pain cooled instantly.
It was several days since the strange experience with the unknown curse. Harry had become wary of every noise, every slight movement in the dungeon. He wished that he had his wand with him, though for nothing more than sheer comfort.
What could I do, anyway, he thought ruefully, charm my way out of the dungeon?
He hadn't seen his wand for several weeks, though he could not place exactly when it had been taken from him. Sometime after his attempt at escape, he supposed.
A spider crawled over his foot. He kicked it off before it could bite him and continued to sit on the bed with his back to the wall, aimlessly staring at the heavy, locked door of the dungeon.
I wonder what's happening at school, Harry thought suddenly. With the thought came a chill-now he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The heavy dungeon door seemed to blur before his eyes, and he saw people running.teachers talking worriedly in soft whispers.students being pursued by a fanged beast, half-hidden in gloomy shadow. Harry shuddered. He had been haunted by the thoughts of mayhem at Hogwarts ever since Danady had been killed. Nothing seemed to help; ever-present in his mind were the pictures of Ron and Hermione cornered by the monster-again, and again, and again the scene played itself over in his mind-
Harry shook uncontrollably. It was too horrible to think about-so he didn't. He thought instead about the wealth of detail on the spider crawling up the wall beside him.
He wondered what the spiders did all day, alone in the dark of this room. Did they simply crawl around, waiting for an unsuspecting, blind bug to land in their nets? Did they sometimes leave through means unknown to find sunlight and fresh air? Or were they trapped, as he was, for as long as the door remained shut?
The spider stopped when it was level with his nose. It stood as if glued to the stone, not moving a centimeter from where it stood. It seemed to be waiting for something.
Without warning it began to race up the wall and to the right a little. It disappeared into the shadows, and Harry sat back on the bed with a sigh. So not much would be determined by the movement of the spiders after all, he thought dismally.
It seemed as if he was in for a long stay.