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He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking

so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself.

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"Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously.

"This, sir?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the

house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters

present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby

even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house

forever."

Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must

go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make -"

"Your Bludger?" said Harry, anger rising once more. "What d'you

mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants

to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than

remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be

sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to

tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping

onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means

*177*

to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world!

Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elfs were treated like

vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted,

drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved

for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it

was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope

for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sit... And

now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening

already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history

is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his

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bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A

second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering,

"Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby. . ."

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And did you

say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!"

He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the

water jug. "But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the

Chamber?"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf,

his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but

Harry Potter must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry

Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too

dangerous -"

"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's

*178*

wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's

opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf.

"Go home, Harry Potter, go home!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry fiercely. "One of my best

friends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has

been opened -"

"Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby in a

kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save

himself, he must, Harry Potter must not -"

Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too.

There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack,

and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back

into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the

footsteps drew nearer.

151

Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a

long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end

of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a

second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor

McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Harry lay

quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then

Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by

Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress.

He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore,

bending over the statue on the bed.

*l79*

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs.

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor

McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."

Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised

himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray

of moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck

up in front of him, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think ... If Albus

hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows

what might have -"

The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned

forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said

Professor McGonagall eagerly.

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Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Harry, three beds away,

caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked

urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed

open again."

Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall

stared at Dumbledore.

*180*

"But, Albus ... surely ... who?"

"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin.

"The question is, how . . . ."

And from what Harry could see of Professor McGonagall's shad

owy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.

C H-H A P T t R ELEVEN

THE D-KJEL]ING C-L-IJIB

Harry woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with

winter sunlight and his arm reboned but very stiff. He sat up quickly

and looked over at Colin's bed, but it had been blocked from view by

the high curtains Harry had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that he

was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray

and then began bending and stretching his arm and fingers.

"All in order," she said as he clumsily fed himself porridge lefthanded.

"When you've finished eating, you may leave."

Harry dressed as quickly as he could and hurried off to Gryffindor

Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Hermione about Colin and Dobby,

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but they weren't there. Harry left to look for them, wondering where

they could have got to and feeling slightly hurt that they weren't

interested in whether he had his bones back or not.

*182*

As Harry passed the library, Percy Weasley strolled out of it,

looking in far better spirits than last time they'd met.

"Oh, hello, Harry," he said. "Excellent flying yesterday, really

excellent. Gryffindor has just taken the lead for the House Cup you

earned fifty points!"

"You haven't seen Ron or Hermione, have you?" said Harry.

"No, I haven't," said Percy, his smile fading. "I hope Ron's not in

another girls' toilet .....

Harry forced a laugh, watched Percy walk out of sight, and then

headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He couldn't see why

Ron and Hermione would be in there again, but after making sure

that neither Filch nor any prefects were around, he opened the door

and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.

"It's me," he said, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a

splash, and a gasp from within the stall and he saw Hermione's eye

peering through the keyhole.

`Harry!" she said. "You gave us such a fright - come in how's your

arm?"

"Fine," said Harry, squeezing into the stall. An old cauldron was

perched on the toilet, and a crackling from under the rim told Harry

they had lit a fire beneath it. Conjuring up portable, waterproof fires

was a speciality of Hermione's.

"We'd've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the

Polyjuice Potion," Ron explained as Harry, with difficulty, locked the

stall again. "We've decided this is the safest place to hide it."

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Harry started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted.

"We already know - we heard Professor McGonagall telling

Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get

going -"

"The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better," snarled

Ron. "D'you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after

the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin."

"There's something else," said Harry, watching Hermione tearing

bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion. "Dobby came

to visit me in the middle of the night."

Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry told them everything

Dobby had told him - or hadn't told him. Hermione and Ron listened

with their mouths open.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hermione said.

"This settles it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've

opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told

dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what

kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's

noticed it sneaking around the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Hermione, prodding leeches to

the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it can disguise itself - pretend to

be a suit of armor or something - I've read about Chameleon Ghouls -"

"You read too much, Hermione," said Ron, pouring dead lacewings on

top of the leeches. He crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked

at Harry.

"So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your

arm He shook his head. "You know what, Harry? If he doesn't

stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you."

*184*

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The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying

as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire

school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor

and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in

tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they

ventured forth alone.

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was

distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the

wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering

themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind

statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told

them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was

having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans,

amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school.

Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a

pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other

Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pureblood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And

everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came

around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at

school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, and Hermione signed her list; they

had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very

suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the

Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still

* 3-85*

needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only place

they were going to get them was from Snape's private stores. Harry

privately felt he'd rather face Slytherin's legendary monster than let

Snape catch him robbing his office.

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"What we need," said Hermione briskly as Thursday afternoon's

double Potions lesson loomed nearer, "is a diversion. Then one of us

can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need."

Harry and Ron looked at her nervously.

"I think Id better do the actual stealing," Hermione continued in a

matter-of-fact tone. "You two will be expelled if you get into any more

trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you need to do is cause

enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so.

Harry smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Snape's Potions