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attack me."

A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry and Ron. Draco Malfoy was

strolling toward them, and for the first time in his life, Harry was

pleased to see him.

"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been

pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I

want to show you something really funny."

Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy.

"And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" he sneered.

Percy looked outraged.

"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I

don't like your attitude!"

Malfoy sneered and motioned for Harry and Ron to follow him. Harry

almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught himself just in

time. He and Ron hurried after Malfoy, who said as they turned into

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the next passage, "That Peter Weasley -"

"Percy," Ron corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," said Malfoy. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot

lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch

Slytherin's heir single-handed."

He gave a short, derisive laugh. Harry and Ron exchanged excited

looks.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

* 220 *

"What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Oh, yeah -pure-blood!" said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door

concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and

Harry and Ron 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 Harry 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, Harry and Ron

sat down, doing their best to look at home.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a

newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Harry saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly,

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gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Harry.

It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it said:

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 Harry handed the clipping back to

him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Harry bleakly.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in

half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know

the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Ron's - or rather, Crabbe's - face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

"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 the Daily

Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully.

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"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 that Creevey in."

*222*

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a

cruel but accurate impression of Colin: "`Potter, can I have your

picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes,

please, Potter?"'

He dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron.

"What's the matter with you two?"

Far too late, Harry and Ron forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy

seemed satisfied; perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were always slow on

the uptake.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy slowly. "He's

another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around

with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's

Slytherin's heir!"

Harry and Ron waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds

away from telling them it was him - but then

"I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."

Ron's jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than

usual. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice, and Harry, thinking fast,

said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all ......

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?"

snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last

time 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," he said with

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relish.

Ron was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists. Feeling that it would be a

bit of a giveaway if Ron punched Malfoy, Harry shot him a warning

look and said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber

last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah ... whoever it was was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're

probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Harry, puzzled.

"Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle," said Malfoy, looking at him in

disbelief "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going

backward."

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?"

Harry tried to force Goyle's dull face into a look of concern.

"Yeah. . ." said Malfoy. "Luckily, they didn't find 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 Harry. 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 giving Harry, he must be, too.

They both jumped to their feet.

"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted, and without further ado

they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled

themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping

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against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Harry

could feel his feet slipping around in Goyle's huge 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 Crabbe and 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."

Harry checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal.

He put his glasses on as Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's

stall.

"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you -"

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Ron. "You must be back to normal by now,

we are

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry had

never seen her looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful-"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her

robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Ron uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose

or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink.

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Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and

there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode

*225*

m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for

animal transformations!"

"Uh-oh," said Ron.

"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry quickly. "We'll take you up to the

hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions ......

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. "Wait

till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"

ermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a

flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school

arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course

everyone thought that she had been attacked. So many students filed

past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam

Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around

Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry

face.

Harry and Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term

started, they brought her each day's homework.

"If Id sprouted whiskers, Id take a break from work," said Ron, tipping

a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her

spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had

* "21 *

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gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown.

"I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper,

so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out

from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of

sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open,

and read aloud:

"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned

teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class,

Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner

of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award. "

Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.

"You sleep with this under your pillow?"

But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping

over with her evening dose of medicine.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron

said to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs

toward Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them so much

homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before

he finished it. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione

how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a HairRaising

Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their

ears.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and

paused, out of sight, listening hard.

* 228*

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"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined toward Flich's voice, which

sounded quite hysterical.

`= even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to

do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore -"

His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a

distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been

manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot

where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what

Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over

half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from

under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had

stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the

bathroom walls.

"Now what's up with her?" said Ron.

"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their