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

Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

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

And his popping eyes fell on Dudley.

Dudley suddenly remembererd that Filch had seen him throw a cake at Mrs. Norris and he knew what was coming.

"You!" He screeched. "You ! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Dudley and Ron and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," Dumbledore said.

"What about him!" Filch cried, jabbing a finger at Dudley. "He killed my cat!"

"Argus, I want you to come with me," Dumbledore said firmly.

"The rest of you, return to your rooms."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

All everyone was talking about on the way to the dorms was what had just happened. Dudley and Ron fell into line with the twins.

"Do you know what the Chamber of Secrets is?" Ron asked, bluntly. If anyone knew it would be the twins.

"Never heard of it," George replied.

"Never saw it on the map either," Fred said, noticing that Ron was about to speak.

The crowd were a mixture of excited and subdued as they trooped up the stairs. Percy was in his element, leading the way and shepherding the first years along. "Rosebud!" Percy said and the Fat Lady swung open.

"Right," the prefect said, brisky. "It has been a long day, capped off with some very unfortunate events, but I want you all to go to your beds. This matter is best left to the teachers."

Dudley and Ron found Dean upstairs in their dorm room when they arrived. He explained that he left early because he didn't feel well.

Quickly, Dudley and Ron filled Dean in on what happened.

"Crumbs," he said quietly. "There's always something happening here, isn't there?"

That was a bit of an understatement, Dudley thought.

Neville joined them as they started to discuss the happenings of the night. Seamus looked like he wanted too, but after a glare from Dudley, he decided against it and stayed in his bed.

None of them had any idea what the Chamber of Secrets was.

"Dobby said an ancient evil would be awakened," Ron said, for the fourth time in the conversation. "So this must be it."

Dudley was irritated that Filch had immediately pointed the finger at him. "Why would I want to kill his mangy, fleabitten cat?" he protested.

"You did chuck a cake at it," Ron said fairly.

"Big step up from throwing a cake to murder though," Dean fairly. "He's nuts, it sounds like he was actually threatening to kill Dud."

"Always been a bit crazy though, hasn't he?" said Dudley and Ron nodded.

"The amount of times he's wanted to string Fred and George up by their ankles."

"Dumbledore hires some weird people; a former Death Eater and a lunatic caretaker," Dean said.

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Dudley had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch 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."

Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her.

Dudley had snorted at this. Had Ron forgot what happened last year? Events like this seemed normal for the school.

Ron acted like he hadn't heard the snort. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

Dudley had noticed that Ginny was spending less and less time in the classroom and more time with Luna Lovegood. He had often seen them walking the corridors or hanging around outside the grounds. Always alone—although Ginny had friends with her fellow Gryffindors, Luna had never joined their circle.

Since their argument at Halloween, Hermione was refusing to study with them anymore and Dudley, Dean and Ron's homework was suffering as a result. Dudley got a detention from Sinistra for his poor Astonomy homework and both Dudley and Ron got extra revision from McGonagall.

"Why don't you apologise to her?" Ron had asked, as he struggled with his homework.

"She won't listen," Dudley said. He tossed his aside—it was close enough to being done. He'd scrawl a few extra lines tomorrow. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," Dean said fairly. "She just thinks you're a lout."

Dudley threw his quill at him.

He had noticed that since the incident with Filch's cat that Hermione was spending even more time studying than ever. Not a moment passed by that she wasn't in the library or curled up in the common room with a book. She didn't acknowledge Dudley and his friends beyond giving them a glare.

Dudley hadn't beaten up Creevey since—the smaller boy hadn't given him reason. He seemed terrified of Dudley and always quickly left the room as soon as Dudley appeared.

"I suppose there are some benefits of him being frit of me," Dudley said one evening taking the comfy seat that Colin had just hastily vacated. Colin had left some snacks behind, so Dudley helped himself.

He, Ron and Dean were working through their History of Magic essay. It was their next class and neither had finished. After an hour, Hermione walked in, looking angry. To Dudley's surprise, she came there way.

"I didn't hit him," Dudley began.

Hermione ignored him and addressed Dean.

"Have you got a copy of Hogwarts a History?" Hermione asked.

Dean shook his head.

Hermione sighed in frustration.

"You haven't asked me or Dud," Ron said, indignantly.

"That's because you two don't even read the school books," she said, icily.

"What do you want it for anyway? Don't you have enough work to do?" Dean asked. He had just finished his history essay and was looking smug that Dudley and Ron were still working.

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

"What's that?" said Dudley quickly.

Hermione snorted, but otherwise ignored him.

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "All of you are doing your own homework from now on."

"You really shouldn't have pissed her off," Ron said in an undertone.

"So what?" Dudley snapped. But in truth, he wished Hermione was still on good terms with them. He was finding classes to be a big struggle without her help. Dean was the smartest of the trio, but he didn't come close to Hermione's intellect.

The bell rang. Ron and Dean led the way to History of Magic with Dudley trudging moodily behind.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, 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 as boring as ever. Professor Binns 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 to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.

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

"Miss - er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk.

Professor Binns blinked.

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

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

"Miss Grant?"

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

Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Dudley was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

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

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Dudley 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 Secrets...

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts 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: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. 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 around the room, and continued.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony 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 Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns 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 Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, 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 Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns 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."

Hermione's hand was back in the air.

"Sir - what exactly do you mean by the horror within'the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks.

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

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it-"

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't , Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns 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 Slytherin ever built so much as 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.

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Dudley and Dean as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home..."

Dudley nodded too. "Yeah, and the rest of the house lap all that nonsense up," he said, deliberately barging into Theodore Nott and knocking his books to the floor as they passed by.

"Gits," Dudley said loudly. Ron laughed, giving one of Nott's books a kick so it spend out of reach.

As the three walked off, Dudley looked back to see Nott glaring furiously at them. Dudley smirked and stuck his middle finger up.

As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevy went past. He took one look at Dudley and then scooted off down a different corridor.

"You've really terrified him," Dean commented.

"Least he's not bothering us any more," Dudley replied, not caring.

Ginny was close behind, walking with Luna.

"Hi Ron, Dean, Dudley," she greeted.

"Off to class?" Ron asked.

"History," Ginny looked disgusted at the thought.

"I've got a free period, so I;m going to wait until Ginny's finished," Luna informed them.

Dudley gave her a quick look. Didn't she have any friends in her own house?

"I'd glad I bumped into you, Dudley," Ginny said. "Have you heard what the Hufflepuffs are saying?"

Dudley shook his head.

"Some of them are saying you're the heir of Slytherin,"

"Me?" Dudley said in disbelief.

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

"But I'm a muggleborn!"

"That's what I said, but Smith and those friends of his in your year—think it's MacMillan and Finch something ..."

"Finch-Fletchyley," Ron said in disgust.

"Yeah, they've been saying it."

"Yes, Zacharias kept telling everyone in my herbology class," Luna informed them. "I saw it was nonsense. How could Dudley be the heir of Slytherin. He's not a Orochimaru."

"That's right, I'm not a ... not a what?"

"An Orochimaru—it's a man who can turn into a snake with a human head. Salazar Slytherin was one," Luna said.

"Seriously?" Dudley said.

"It's not real, Dud," Ron whispered.

Dudley remembered who he talking too. Of course that couldn't be true.

"Yes, well," Ginny said quickly. "We know Dudley isn't the heir of Slytherin, obviously, but the Hufflepuffs keep saying it."

"I reckon I need to go and pound on Ernie," Dudley muttered darkly.

"Thanks, Gin," Ron said, and Dudley nodded.

Dean was angry too. "How can they even think Dud is the heir of Slythering?" he said. "They're just making it up because you embarassed some of them last year."

Dudley nodded, that sounds very likely.

"Do you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Dudley asked to change the subject.

"I dunno," Ron said. "There's a lot of secrets in Hogwarts. Even Fred and George are discovering new things all the time. And there are a lot of stories about Salazer Slytherin—none of them nice."

As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened."

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Ron muttered.

They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Dudley, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.

"Scorch marks!" he said. "Here - and here-"

"Come and look at this!" said Dean.

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

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

"No," said Dudley, "have you, Ron? Ron?"

He looked over his shoulder. Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" said Dudley.

"I - don't - like - spiders," said Ron tensely.

Dudley laughed. "Why? You've used spiders in Potions loads of times..."

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

Dudley and Dean laughed again.

"It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick... You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..."

He broke off, shuddering. Dudley laughed again.

Dean said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."

"It was about here," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."

He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" said Dudley.

"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls'toilet."

"So what?" Dudley said. "If anyone's in there, we'll just kick them out. Come on, I want a look around."

And ignoring the large OUT of ORDER sign, he opened the door.

It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Dudley had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. 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 stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

"This is a girls bathroom," a voice said said, eyeing Ron, Dudley and Dean suspiciously. "You need to leave."

All three jumped.

"Who are you?" Dudley demanded.

There was a ghost hovering above the sinks of a teenaged girl, plump, with a sullen expression on her face.

"I'm Myrtle," she said in a dignified voice.

"Hang on, I know that name. Fred and George mentioned her. She's mental ... haunts a toiler,"

Dudley laughed.

"Ask her if she saw anything," Dean said.

"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.

"Nothing," said Dudley quickly. "We wanted to ask-"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead-"

"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Dean. "Dudley only-"

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

"We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately," said Dean quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."

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

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

"Already dead," said Ron helpfully.

Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.

"Weirdo," Dudley said. "Why do I always seem to attract them?"

Dudley had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.

"RON!"

Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.

"That's a girls bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you -?"

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know-"

Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Dudley forcefully of Mrs. Weasley.

"Get - away - from - there -" Perry said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner-"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "We're just looking around."

"Yes, well, Mr. Filch still insists Dudley is involved ..." Percy began.

"Which is nonsense," said Dudley.

"And I heard a few other students saying it too."

"The Hufflepuffs," Dudley growled.

"Yes, I will be speaking to Professor Sprout. To see if I can't quash these ugly rumors," Percy said pompously. "But for now, please, don't do anything remotely suspicious."

Dudley was in a bad mood. He made up his mind that the next time he saw any of the Hufflepuffs, he was going to give them a pummeling.

In the dorm, they set to do their next lot of homework. Again, Hermione didn't sit with them and instead sat with Neville.

"I've been thinking," said Ron. "You heard Malfoy - You'll be next, Mudbloods!'- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him-"

"Look at his family," said Dudley, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. His dad was a Death Eater too."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son ..."

"He's definitely the most likely," Dean agreed.

"Or maybe Nott," Dudley added.

"I reckon we need to prove it," Ron said.

"If we can stop the Heir of Slytherin, that'd be pretty impressive," Dean agreed.

"I ... we already stopped Quirrell and Voldemort," Dudley said, quickly warming to the idea. "Be nice to win the House Cup again."

"And get a bit more fame," Ron said, smirking.

"That too," Dudley agreed.

"But how?" Dean asked.

"Interrogate him?" Dudley suggested.

"Nah, he wouldn't talk—opening the Chamber is serious. He'd get expelled if caught. No way would he tell you, even if you pounded him." said Ron.

"I could always pound him anyway," Dudley said.

"No complaints here," Dean said, "Malfoy's a slug."

"I dunno any other way, unless we go under the cloak and just follow him around," Dudley said.

"Nah," said Ron. "That'd take too long. He'll probably just talk to him in the common room. No way would be blab in public."

"Do you think we could find out a way to sort of magically spy on someone?" Dean asked.

"Maybe," Ron said. "I dunno though. We could always ask a teacher."

"They'll be too suspicious," Dean said.

"Not if we ask a thick one," Ron said.

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Lockhart."

Dudley and Dean looked surprised.

"He's a bit of a prat, but he has wrote a lot of books," Ron said, fairly. "And has fought lots of dark creatures ... supposedly. If there's a way to do it, he might know."

"And he won't be suspicious like McGonagall," Dean finished, nodding. "Dud should ask."

"Why me?" Dudley said.

"Because Lockhart likes you," Ron said. "Just hang around after class and say, I dunno, that you're doing an essay on magical spying or whatever and you need help. He'll love to help."

"Fine," said Dudley. "I'll do it."