The following morning, Sirius and James went down to breakfast together. Sirius eyed his friend, wondering whether he would want to go back to that chamber again. But James showed no signs of wanting to discuss it at all.

'James', Sirius began tentatively, as they entered the Great Hall, 'what did you think of the secret room?'

James turned and looked at him blankly. 'What're you on about? We didn't find any rooms!'

Sirius stared at James in disbelief. 'Stop messing about', he hissed, 'we walked for ages, then came to a golden room...remember?'

James laughed, but stopped abruptly when he saw the look on Sirius' face. 'I'm worried about you, mate', he remarked, 'hearing voices, imagining secret passages-what next! Hey, Remus, do you remember us finding a secret passage last night?'

Remus, whose nose was buried in the Daily Prophet, looked up, puzzled. The bruise Sirius had noticed on his cheek had developed into a black eye. 'Nope. And I think I'd remember something like that, don't you?'

Sirius' jaw dropped. How could they not remember? He searched the Gryffindor table, and spotted Peter, chatting to Tobias. He hurried over, and tapped Peter on the shoulder. Peter stood up and smiled. 'What's up, Sirius?' He asked cheerfully.

'D-do you remember the...secret passage last night?' Sirius whispered, with effort.

Peter rolled his eyes. 'I wish. I can't BELIEVE we didn't find anything. I s'pose there might be some on one of the other floors. When did James say we'd try again?'

'I dunno', Sirius mumbled, stumbling away, trying to put his confused thoughts into some order. Was he going crazy? He couldn't think of any other explanation.

He clearly remembered how, after staring into the room for several minutes, James had tried to enter, but some invisble doorway prevented him. Peter and Remus had also tried, but Sirius did not. Because he was certain he would be able to enter, and was too scared to do so. They had all headed back to bed, awestruck by the room, vowing to go back as soon as they could. Now, this morning, Sirius alone remembered these events, and it frightened him.

He skipped breakfast and went straight up to Professor McGonagall's classroom for Transfiguration, a plan half-formed in his mind. He pushed the door open, and was pleased to see that the professor sat behind her desk, in front of the empty classroom. She glanced up from her book and gave Sirius a small smile before looking away again. He took his seat in the middle of the classroom, and swallowed audibly. He stood up, and moved quickly to stand in front of McGonagall's desk.

His teacher looked up again, one eyebrow raised quizzically. 'Can I help you, Mr Black?'

Sirius studied his finger nails, and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. 'Professor', he began at last, 'do...I mean, could you...? No, I mean, have you...?'

'Mr Black', McGonagall intervened, looking both impatient and amused, 'have you got a sensible question to ask, which brought you here so early this morning? Or have you just decided to make a habit of arriving fifteen minutes early?'

Sirius took a deep breath and spoke. 'Do you know anything about...an amulet?'

'Amulet?' McGonagall looked vaguely interested, 'my dear boy, would this be amulets in general, or a specific amulet?'

'Er...' Sirius cast around for a way to tell her about the amulet without making himself sound insane. 'Er, I saw this book...it said some stuff about an amulet...and the owner of it sort of...I dunno, haunts people, if it goes missing. I think it had something to do with Hogwarts.'

Minerva McGonagall was an exceptionally intelligent woman, and she could certainly tell when a twelve year old was lying to her. But she decided to answer his question, and then see if he would tell the truth.

'There is a myth, yes', she replied, 'a myth which speaks of an amulet, created by Salazar Slytherin, to protect the school forever more. It is this amulet that is said to make the school impenetrable by magic of any kind-for example, nobody can apparate within Hogwarts.'

'And where is this amulet?' Sirius asked, a little too swiftly.

Professor McGonagall fixed him with a beady eye. 'Nobody knows. It is a myth, passed down through the generations. If it ever existed, it is doubtful that it still does today. It was a rumour started to make people feel safe, knowing there was an actual abject that would always be here to keep the school secure. A useless tale, or so most would believe. Do you enjoy reading about the obscure myths and legends of the wizarding world, Mr Black?'

Sirius knew that she knew he was lying. He had the good grace to blush. 'I, er, actually, I didn't read it anywhere', he admitted, 'I heard about it.'

'Ah', Professor McGonagall nodded, 'at home, was it? I'm sure your parents would be fascinated by a tale about the power of Salazar Slytherin.'

Sirius was surprised at the venom with which his teacher spoke. 'D'you know my parents?' He asked.

However, Professor McGonagall realised she had crossed a line. Whether Sirius liked his parents or not, she would not criticise them in front of him. He pursed her lips, and shook her head. 'No', she lied, 'I do not. But I believe they have a special, er...interest, shall we say, in the works of that great wizard. Now Black, if you'll excuse me, I need to fetch something from my office.'

Pale and tight-lipped, she stood up and swept out of the room, leaving Sirius alone with his disturbed thoughts.

So there was an amulet, created to protect the school. By Salazar Slytherin himself, of all people! Great, Sirius thought bitterly, I'm being haunted by the guy whose stupid house is making my life hell. But why was Slytherin talking to him? Something must have happened to the amulet.

The memory of the empty glass shaft flashed before his eyes. It should not have been empty.

The amulet should hang there.

'What're you doing?'

Sirius jumped, and turned towards the door, where Remus stood, eyeing him uncertainly.

'Nothing. I just didn't feel like breakfast, so I came up here early.' Sirius lied quickly.

'Oh. Right.' Remus shrugged and sat down next to Sirius. He rubbed his eyes, put his head in his hands, on the desk, and sighed quietly. He looked so ill that Sirius was terrified he would collapse.

'Remus, what's the matter?' He demanded to know, 'you look awful!'

'Nothing's the matter.' Remus voice was muffled by the desk.

'You didn't fall, did you?' Sirius asked quietly.

'Huh?' Remus jerked his head upwards, and stared at Sirius, startled.

'You've been so quiet lately. And that cut...and the bruise. What's going on?'

'I told you', Remus replied stubbornly, 'I did fall. Down the stairs, in fact. At home. And I'm just...worried about my Mum, that's all.'

'What're you two doing up here so early? Normally, it's a challenge for you to drag yourself out of bed, Sirius!'

Both Remus and Sirius jumped, and looked across to the door-James was standing there, his eyebrows raised. 'You're both actin' really shifty. What's the secret?'

'I'll tell you mine if Remus tells us his', Sirius replied, scowling.

'And I'm afraid that won't be happening', Remus added mildly, 'so we'll all just have to get on with things and mind our own business.'

'Don't like the sound of that', James remarked.

Professor MacGonagall and the rest of the class entered the room after a couple of minutes, and Sirius was able to lapse into his own thoughts. He vaguely heard instructions to turn their slugs into snails, and made a vain attempt to do so. James sighed loudly, and with a flick of his wand, completed the task.

'You could've done that in your sleep', he snorted, 'what's up?'

'NOTHING' Sirius replied, a little too loudly, making everyone stare at him.

He was seeing things, and hearing things. He was being ignored by his entire family. His Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher abominated him, and all the while, the prospect of returning home at Christmas hung over him like a death sentence. Life was definitely going downhill.