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"Chapter Nine: The Writing on the Wall" Luna read, her airy voice making the ominous title seem even more frightening, if that was possible.

"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.

"Oh that's not going to be good, he loves that cat." Neville said with a clear look of questioning as to how anyone could love that beast.

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 Harry.

"Of course they did," Harry sighed. "Every time something happens in this school, its my fault."

"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 Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"Of course, anything to be at the center of attention," Remus grumbled.

"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.
As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers.

In this case, not one person tried to contain their amusement, even Fudge and Percy cracked a smile at Lockhart's expense.

The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

"And waiting to see if we were going to be in trouble," Ron added, shrugging.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile.

"Well what sane person wouldn't smile at that blasted cat's demise?" Snape muttered.

"There is a time and a place for everything Severus." McGonagall reprimanded him and he resorted to mumbling under his breath.

And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.
"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture –

"Has anyone else ever heard of that spell?" Remus asked and there were several shaking heads.

I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her..."

"Oh I very much doubt that." Harry said wincing at the memory of Lockhart trying to 'fix' his arm. The man couldn't preform even the simplest of spells.

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry mumbled, glaring at Ron who was smirking.

If Dumbledore believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure.
Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened. She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

Most of the pranksters in the room sighed wistfully.

"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once..."

"For Merlin's sake shut up!" Remus said losing his patience with the book. "Just get on with what happened to the cat!"

The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.
At last Dumbledore straightened up.
"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.
Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.
"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"All stiff and frozen? That was the best he could come up with?" George wondered.

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say..."

Ginny shivered. She knew how since she was the one that did it.

"It wasn't your fault," Harry whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He would tell her that until she believed him. It wasn't her that had petrified all those people.

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.
"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced-"

"Kind," Dumbledore finished his past self's sentence, knowing that he would be interrupted.

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found - in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a -" Filch's face worked horribly. "He knows I'm a Squib!" he finished.

"And if I wanted revenge on Filch, why would I attack Mrs. Norris?"

"I don't think he was thinking that far in advance Harry," Hermione told him.

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."

Hermione opened her mouth but Harry cut across her. "I know now remember?"

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"
"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of foreboding increased; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good.

"Does it ever?" Ron wondered.

"What was that Mr. Weasley?" Snape snarled from his spot at the table.

"Nothing sir, just thinking to myself," Ron quickly answered. Then in a tone so low that only Remus heard it, "Stupid bat hearing." The people in the circle couldn't understand why Remus was having a sudden coughing fit, but he quickly waved for Luna to continue reading.

"Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"
Harry, Ron and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party. "...there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there-"
"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"
Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.
"Because - because -" Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear,

"That sounds far-fetched to me and I read about it," Neville admitted.

"because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he said.
"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"I doubt that food was even fit for dead people," Ron said.

"We weren't hungry," said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble.

In the present, Ron's stomach did the same thing. "When can we eat lunch?" He asked pleadingly.

"How many chapters are left Miss Lovegood?" Dumbledore asked Luna.

"Nine sir," she answered after quickly checking the table of contents.

"So after this chapter Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore told Ron.

"Read Luna! Read!" Ron said hurriedly.

Snape's nasty smile widened.
"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."

"And what does a petrified cat have to do with Quidditch? It's not like the cat was attacked by a broomstick," Remus said, glaring at Snape.

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick.

"Thank you Professor," Remus said to McGonagall, giving Snape a smug smile.

There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."
Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed.

"I hate that feeling," Harry muttered. "It always makes me feel guilty."

Remus chuckled. "Snuffles was the only one of us that was immune to that feeling."

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly.
Snape looked furious.
So did Filch.
"My cat has been Petrified!"

"What happened to stiff and frozen?" Hermione scoffed.

he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"
"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professer Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes.

"What a coincidence," Remus stated, already knowing that it wasn't purely a coincidence that Mandrakes were being covered by the second years that particular year.

As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."
"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep-"
"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

"I cant believe I'm saying this, but nicely done Severus," Remus told the man.

"Would you care to repeat that Lupin? I didn't quite hear you," Snape sneered.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."

There was a very awkward pause.
"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Harry squinted at his friends' darkened faces.
"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"
"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

"It's worse in the Muggle world," Hermione said. "They lock you up because there aren't any potions or spells to help you."

"Are you saying I need a straight jacket and a padded cell?" Harry asked her.

"Well mate," Fred and George began.

"Keep reading Luna," Harry cut them off.

Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"
"Course I do," said Ron quickly. "But - you must admit it's weird..."
"I know it's weird," said Harry. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened ... What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once... might've been Bill..."

"What? No answer from Hermione?" Fred and George teased but Hermione shrugged.

"I agreed with Ron, it did ring a bell, I just had to find it." She answered.

"And what on earth's a Squib?" said Harry.
To his surprise, Ron stifled a snigger.
"Well - it's not funny really - but as it's Filch," he said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Ron gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."

"Ronald! That is no way to treat a teacher!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"But he isn't a teacher Mum!"

A clock chimed somewhere.
"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."
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. Harry 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.

"Of course they did," Ginny whispered.

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.

"That wasn't it," Ginny whispered, and to Harry's ears she sounded to the point of tears.

"Ginny. Listen to me." He whispered in her ear. "This was in the past. Did anyone hold it against you? No. Did anyone hate you? No. Was it your fault? No a million times over. So stop blaming yourself all right?"

She sniffed. "Thanks."

"Of course."

"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. "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.

"Honestly Ron, have you no tact?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.

"I've got tact!" Ron protested. "I just choose not to show it."

"Because you don't have any." The twins chorused.

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.
Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Ron in the library, and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.
Harry found Ron at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three foot long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."

"I'll never understand why he assigns homework when he knows that no one listens to him!" Ron ranted.

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."

"Well the homework is quite easy if you pay attention Ronald," Hermione said mockingly.

"Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.
"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."
Harry told Ron about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him.
"Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great-"
Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.
"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out,"

"What!? People are actually reading that book? The world has ended!" The twins cried, alternating sentences.

she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."
"Why do you want it?" said Harry.
"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"Of course!" Remus said, slapping a hand to his forehead. "That's where it was from!"

"You knew about it already?" Harry asked, a little put out.

"I remembered reading about the legend and vaguely recall the details, but I couldn't remember where I had read it." Remus said shrugging.

"What's that?" said Harry quickly.
"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else-"
"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"You should really know better than to copy Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said and her husband chuckled.

"Especially since Hermione would never let you," Mr. Weasley added.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it-"
"I only need another two inches, come on-"
The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering.
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.

"Hm…it used to be the floor," Remus mused.

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.

"Er…doesn't that happen quite a lot?" Fred asked.

"Yes but she put her hand up in History. Interrupting Binns." Harry said slowly.

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

"It's amazing how he never knows his students names. You would think that with being a ghost, his memory would have improved."

"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.

"Oops," Neville said sheepishly and people hid their chuckles out of respect for him.

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-"

"But weren't all myths and legends once based on fact?" Those who knew what Hermione had said next that day in class stared at Remus in amazement.

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?"

"It's scary that those two think alike," Ron said and both Remus and Hermione blushed.

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

"I'm almost certain that no one has," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"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. Harry could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Of course, all it took was a petrified cat and some writing on a wall," Ron said, oblivious to the effect his casual words had on his sister. He was also oblivious to the glare Hermione was giving him, but that could have been from practice.

"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."

"They still did, much into the 1700's until the art of witchcraft was disbanded and people began to lose faith," Remus said.

"No! It's break! We –"

"Shouldn't have to be learning!"

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.

"And yet," Hermione said tartly, "Look at who is more hated and is causing more damage in the world. Muggleborns or Slytherins?"

After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor,

"Is that when the feud started sir?" Remus asked Dumbledore curiously.

The Headmaster nodded. "It is greatly assumed so, yes."

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 were a few shudders around the room, particularly from Hermione and Ginny.

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."

"But if they were not Slytherin's heir, how could they be expected to find what he had hidden?" Remus reasoned out loud.

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?"

"Huh," Harry said in surprise, looking between Neville and Ron. "Did either of you think Seamus would be able to think like a teacher?"

"Nope," Ron answered while Neville shook his head. "That could say more for Lupin than it does for Seamus though."

"Hey!"

"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!

"No its not, yes it does, yes there is, and yes you do." Harry answered, ticking off the questions one by one. "Did I get them all?"

"You forgot to mention what's in the Chamber," Remus told him innocently. But unfortunately for him, Harry had his mother's knack for sensing a trap and easily side stepped it.

"Yes I did, didn't I?" Harry answered with a grin. "You'll have to wait and see."

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 Harry and Hermione 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..."
Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.

"You should have known that we wouldn't have cared," Hermione told him gently.

"Yeah but after hearing that speech, can you blame me for not telling you?"

Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the hat on his head a year before : You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that...

"You don't need to be put in a certain house to achieve greatness," Dumbledore said wisely. "That alone depends on your actions and how you live your life."

But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin House's reputation for turning out Dark wizards, had thought desperately, Not Slytherin! and the hat had said, Oh, well, if you're sure... better be Gryffindor ...
As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevy went past.
"Hiya, Harry!"

"He never stops does he?" George wondered.

Harry shook his head. "He's gotten better over the years really."

"Hullo, Colin," said Harry automatically.
"Harry - Harry - a boy in my class has been saying you're-"
But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, "See you, Harry!" and he was gone.
"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Hermione wondered.
"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Harry, his stomach dropping another inch or so as he suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him at lunchtime.
"People here'll believe anything," said Ron in disgust.

"Well they weren't far off were they?" Harry said under his breath ignoring the sharp look Remus sent him.

The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.
"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked Hermione.
"I don't know," she said, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human."

"Not human?" Remus muttered to himself, frowning as he thought. "But if Slytherin could control it…and he was a…then it would have to be…" Remus frowned again before continuing to muse in his own thoughts.

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.

"Why do I get the feeling that you are going to be poking around and are going to get caught?" Neville wondered aloud.

"Are we really that predictable?" Harry asked in return.

"Yes!" Most of the staff and adults replied.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around,"

"See!"

said Harry, 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 Hermione. "This is funny..."
Harry got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione 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.

Spiders are fleeing from whatever Slytherin hid…what creature do spiders flee from? Obviously its some kind of snake since Slytherin was a Parselmouth, but what exactly? Remus thought to himself. He had the feeling that the answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't figure it out. Not yet at least.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.
"No," said Harry, "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 Harry.
"I - don't - like - spiders," said Ron tensely.

Fred and George looked at one another and started to laugh.

"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "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..."
Hermione giggled.
"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..."

"Fred Weasley! You did that to your brother?!" Fred recoiled from his mother's anger. "And you laugh about it?!"

"I didn't know he would get that scared of them Mum!" Fred protested, trying to save himself.

He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry 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?" Ginny asked, speaking up for the first time since the last chapter.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"Aww! They think alike!" Fred and George cooed, much to Ginny and Harry's embarrassment. Hermione just smirked knowingly.

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

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."
And ignoring the large OUT of ORDER sign, she opened the door.

"Hermione Granger broke a rule?" Fred gasped.

"Someone alert the Daily Prophet!" George agreed.

"Who knows Harry? This young lady might have taken your spot on the front page!"

"Good." Harry said firmly.

It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Harry 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.
Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
Harry and Ron went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
"This is a girls bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. "They're not girls."

"Well spotted," Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged looks and decided that they should have a word with Fred and George for Halloween next year.

"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how er - nice it is in here."
She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.

"Very true," George agreed.

"Oh Georgie! It's our dream home!" Fred sighed happily.

"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.
"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.
"Nothing," said Harry 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 Hermione. "Harry 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 Hermione quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."
"Did you see anyone near here that night?" said Harry.
"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.

"Again with the tact," Hermione commented off handedly.

"I have tact!" Ron protested again, but it was only half-hearted.

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.
Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle... Come on, let's go."
Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.
"RON!"

"What was Mum doing at Hogwarts?" Fred wondered and everyone sniggered at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Percy Weasley

"Oh." Fred said, his smile dropping. "Never mind I said anything."

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 -?"

"What did you think I was doing Percy?" Ron asked his older brother seriously, but he was ignored.

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know-"
Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of Mrs. Weasley.

Percy blushed a bright red and looked down at the table while his mother's eyes grew misty.

"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. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her , all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business-"
"You don't care about Ginny," said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy-"

"No it wasn't his chances at Head Boy Ron," George said shaking his head.

"It was mentioning his family." Fred finished harshly.

"Boys." Remus said quietly and he shook his head, glancing over at Mrs. Weasley who had her head buried in hopes that she wouldn't see her third eldest son ignoring her.

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work , or I'll write to Mum!"
And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To Harry's surprise, Hermione followed suit.
"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwart's?"

"Gee I wonder who?" Fred grumbled.

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"
He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.
"If you're talking about Malfoy-"

"Who else?" Like his brother, George was grumbling.

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him - You'll be next, Mudbloods!'- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him-"
"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.
"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."
"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son ..."

"No," Remus said, shaking his head. "It wouldn't be the Malfoys."

"What makes you say that?" Ron asked.

"They wouldn't do it while one of their own was at the school. Even if they could control whatever is down there, they would more than likely get someone else to do their bidding. They never have direct involvement, that way they can back out at any time with arousing suspicions." Remus answered thoughtfully.

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible..."
"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.
"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"
"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.
"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."
"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.

"No its not, not without…" Remus trailed off and looked at Hermione. "You didn't."

Against her will, Hermione blushed, giving him all the answer he needed.

"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."
"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.
"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago-"
"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron.
"It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."
"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?"
"It wears off after a while," said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library." There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher."

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance..."
"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick..."

"Well luckily for you three, you had an extremely thick teacher at the time," Remus said with a chuckle.

"Yeah we did," Harry agreed.

"That's the end of the chapter." Luna said. "Shall we go eat before Ronald complains again?" With a round of laughter at Ron's embarrassment, the large group left for the Great Hall.