The Chamber of Secrets
“All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away,” said Ron bitterly at breakfast the next day, “and we could’ve asked her, and now…”
It had been hard enough trying to look for spiders. Escaping their teachers long enough to sneak into a girls’ bathroom—the girls’ bathroom, moreover, right next to the scene of the first attack—was going to be almost impossible.
Raph rubbed his eyes tiredly. After last night, his dreams had been plagued with giant spiders and a certain bug-lord—he’d hardly gotten any sleep, and trying to find a way to get to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom before something else happened was giving him a migraine.
But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, that drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.
“Exams?” howled Seamus Finnigan. “We’re still getting exams?”
There was a loud bang behind Harry as Neville Longbottom’s wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk. Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand and turned, frowning, to Seamus.
“The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education,” she said sternly. “The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard.”
Raph scoffed next to him. “Donnie’s going to have a field day,” he mumbled bitterly.
Harry had to agree. It had never occurred to him that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.
“Professor Dumbledore’s instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible,” she said. “And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year.”
Harry looked down at the pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn’t seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam.
Ron looked as though he’d just been told he had to go and live in the Forbidden Forest.
“Can you imagine me taking exams with this?” he asked, holding his wand up to Harry and Raph, which had just started whistling loudly.
Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.
“I have good news,” she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.
“Dumbledore’s coming back!” several people yelled joyfully.
“You’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!” squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.
“Quidditch matches are back on!” roared Wood excitedly.
When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with us catching the culprit.”
There was an explosion of cheering. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table and wasn’t at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy hadn’t joined in. Ron, however, was looking happier than he’d looked in days.
“It won’t matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!” he said to Harry and Raph. “Hermione’ll probably have all the answers when they wake her up! Mind you, she’ll probably go crazy when she finds out we’ve got exams in three days’ time. She hasn’t studied. It might be kinder to leave her where she is till they’re over.”
Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap.
“What’s up?” said Ron, helping himself to more porridge.
“Are you okay?” Raph said, and he glanced over to Leo at the Slytherin table, a slightly uncomfortable smile on his face.
Ginny didn’t say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn’t think who.
“Spit it out,” said Ron, watching her.
Harry suddenly realized who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information.
“I’ve got to tell you something,” Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry.
“What is it?” Harry said.
Ginny looked as though he couldn't find the right words.
“What?” said Ron, starting to get impatient.
“Take your time,” Raph said, not unkindly.
Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harry leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Ginny, Ron, and Raph could hear him.
“Is it something to do about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?”
Ginny drew a deep breath and, at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired and wan.
“If you’ve finished eating, I’ll take that seat, Ginny. I’m starving, I’ve only just come off patrol duty.”
Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, and scampered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.
“Percy!” said Ron angrily. “She was just about to tell us something important!”
Halfway through a gulp of tea, Percy choked.
“What sort of thing?” he said, coughing.
“I just asked her if she’d seen anything odd, and she started to say…”
“Oh—that—that’s nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets,” said Percy at once.
“How do you know?” said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
“Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was—well, never mind—the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she’d keep her word. It’s nothing, really, I’d just rather—”
Harry had never seen Percy look so uncomfortable. He and Raph exchanged a glance, and he noticed that Raph looked just as confused as Harry felt (though there was a spark of amusement in his friend’s eyes).
“What were you doing, Percy?” said Ron, grinning. “Go on, tell us, we won’t laugh.”
Percy didn’t smile back.
“Pass me those rolls, Harry, I’m starving.”
Harry knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he wasn’t about to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle if it turned up—and to his delight, it did, midmorning, when they were being led to History of Magic by Gilderoy Lockhart.
Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn’t as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.
“Mark my words,” he said, ushering them around a corner. “The first words out of those poor Petrified people’s mouths will be ‘It was Hagrid.’ Frankly, I’m astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary.”
“I agree, sir,” said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise.
“Thank you, Harry,” said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. Harry saw Raph catch Mikey’s eye and nod, and he wondered what that meant. But Lockhart kept talking before he could think much of it: “I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…”
“That’s right,” said Ron, catching on. “Why don’t you leave us here, sir, we’ve only got one more corridor to go—”
“You know, Weasley, I think I will,” said Lockhart. “I really should go and prepare my next class—”
And he hurried off.
“Prepare his class,” Ron sneered after him. “Gone to curl his hair, more like.”
Raph snorted.
They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage.
“Wait for me in the bathroom,” Raph said, and Harry and Ron came up short, staring at him in disbelief.
“What?” they said at the same time.
“I’ll meet you guys there—I have to get my brothers.”
And before they could say anything more, Raph hurried off down a separate corridor, leaving them dumbfounded.
“C’mon,” Harry said, starting toward Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. “We’re sitting ducks out here—”
“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?”
Professor McGonagall came storming toward them, her mouth the thinnest of thin lines.
“We were—we were—” Ron stammered. “We were going to—to go and see—”
“Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him.
“We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry—”
Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.
“Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. “Of course, I realize that this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been… I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you’ve gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission.”
“And—er—Raph’s coming, too,” Ron said. “He’s just in the bathroom at the moment—”
“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said. “Off with you two, then.”
Harry and Ron walked away, hardly daring to believe that they’d avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose.
“That,” said Ron fervently, “was the best story you’ve ever come up with.”
Raph hurried off to the Room of Requirement, silently cursing himself. Hopefully Mikey would find a way to sneak off, but he wasn’t sure how Leo and Donnie would know to get out of their classes.
Raph wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the mystery would be solved without having to fight. Why would the Room of Requirement give them extra weapons, then? And talking to Moaning Myrtle was surely going to be the catalyst to it all—he wouldn’t risk putting Harry and Ron in danger without his brothers being there, as well.
He navigated through the castle, blending in with groups of Gryffindors making their way to their next classes and ignoring the strange looks people shot him when he hurried off.
When he finally reached the Room of Requirement, he grabbed as many shurikens as he could. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, he and his brothers were going to have to fight, but he wasn’t about to go in there unprepared, like he did last time.
No—this time, he would be ready.
Pipes.
That was what Hermione had written on the back of a page out of a very old book from a library. The page had depicted something called the Basilisk—and Harry and Ron knew now, without a doubt, that that was what had been terrorizing the school the past year. The look of the Basilisk was deadly—but nobody had died. Together, Harry and Ron had pieced together what had happened: Mrs. Norris had seen the Basilisk’s reflection in the water outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom; Colin had seen it through his camera; Justin had seen it through Nearly Headless Nick; and Hermione and Penelope had seen it in the mirror lying next to them.
And it had gotten through the school using the pipes—that was why Harry heard it in the walls; it had been using the plumbing.
Ron suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm.
“The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!” he said hoarsely. “What if it’s in a bathroom? What if it’s in—”
“Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,” said Harry.
They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.
“This means,” said Harry, “I can’t be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin’s one, too. That’s how he’s been controlling the Basilisk.”
“What’re we going to do?” said Ron, whose eyes were flashing. “Should we go straight to McGonagall?”
“Let’s go to the staff room,” said Harry, jumping up. “She’ll be there in ten minutes. It’s nearly break.”
“But what about Raph?”
“No time,” Harry said. “We have to tell somebody now.”
They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down.
But the bell to signal break never came.
Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall’s voice, magically magnified.
“All students return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.”
Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron. “Not another attack? Not now?”
“What’ll we do?” said Ron, aghast. “Go back to the dormitory?”
“No,” said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers’ cloaks. “In here. Let’s hear what it’s all about. Then we can tell them what we’ve found out.”
They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.
“It’s happened,” she told the silent staff room. “A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.”
Raph heard the announcement and jumped up, gripping his sais when the Room of Requirement opened. Mikey and Donnie strolled in, their faces grave but determined.
“We need to leave as soon as Leo gets here,” Donnie said, taking out his bo staff. “Whatever it is the teachers know, it can’t be good.”
Just then, the door opened, and Leo stalked toward them, every muscle tense. “Are they—?”
“At Moaning Myrtle’s,” Raph confirmed with a nod. “I think—” He shook his head. “They might’ve just found out where the entrance was, by now.”
Donnie straightened suddenly and went still. “Oh.”
His brothers all whirled to him.
“Oh?” Raph repeated. “Oh, what?”
Donnie’s face was pale as he said, “I know where I’ve heard T. M. Riddle from. And it’s not good.”
Leo grabbed a few shurikens and rolled his neck. “Then let’s go.”
Ginny Weasley had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.
The news was like a blow to Harry, and he could only imagine how Ron must be feeling.
“If Lockhart’s going to go get her,” Harry murmured, waiting for the rest of the teachers to clear out of the staff room, “then maybe we can help him.”
The corridors were near-empty as they walked down to Lockhart’s office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.
Harry knocked, and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened, just a sliver, and they saw one of Lockhart’s eyes peering through it.
“Oh—Mr. Potter—Mr. Weasley—” he said, opening the door a bit wider. “I’m rather busy at the moment—if you would be quick—”
“Professor, we’ve got some information for you,” said Harry. “We think it’ll help you.”
“Er—well—it’s not terribly—” The side of Lockhart’s face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. “I mean—well—all right—”
He opened the door and they entered.
His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jammed untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.
“Are you going somewhere?” said Harry.
“Er, well, yes,” said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. “Urgent call—unavoidable—got to go—”
“What about my sister?” Ron growled.
“Well, as to that—most unfortunate—” said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. “No one regrets more than I—”
“You’re the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!” said Harry. “You can’t go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!”
“Well—I must say—when I took the job—” Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. “Nothing in the job description—didn’t expect—”
“You mean you’re running away?” said Harry disbelievingly. “After all that stuff you did in your books—”
“Books can be misleading,” said Lockhart delicately.
“You wrote them!” Harry shouted.
“My dear boy,” said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. “Do use your common sense. My books wouldn’t have sold half as well if people didn’t think I’d done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He’d look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairlip. I mean, come on—”
“So you’ve just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?” said Harry incredulously.
“Harry, Harry,” said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently, “it’s not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn’t remember doing it. If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s my Memory Charms. No, it’s been a lot of work, Harry. It’s not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog.”
He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.
“Let’s see,” he said. “I think that’s everything. Yes. Only one thing left.”
He pulled out his wand and turned to them.
“Awfully sorry, boys, but I’ll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can’t have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I’d never sell another book—”
Harry reached his wand just in time. Lockhart had barely raised his when Harry bellowed, “Expelliarmus!”
Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk. His wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it and flung it out of the open window.
“Shouldn’t have let Professor Snape teach us that one,” said Harry furiously, kicking Lockhart’s trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, feeble once more. Harry was still pointing his wand at him.
“What d’you want me to do?” said Lockhart weakly. “I don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There’s nothing I can do.”
“You’re in luck,” said Harry, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wandpoint. “We think we know where it is. And what’s inside it. Let’s go.”
By the time they reached Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, it was already too late. Moaning Myrtle was sitting on her toilet, but for once, she looked… content. Not happy, exactly, but content.
“They’re already goneeee,” she said, in something of a sing-song voice.
Raph and Mikey exchanged a horrified look.
“Gone where, exactly?” Leo growled.
“To the Chamber of Secrets, silly!” Moaning Myrtle giggled, and Raph’s nose crinkled in disgust at the relish in her voice. “And they took that dreadful teacher with them… Too bad they’re going to die.”
“Where is the Chamber of Secrets?” Donnie asked.
“Right here.” She floated over to a sink, and when he peered at it closer, Raph could see the depiction of a snake on the side of one of the copper taps. “The boy with the glasses said something in an awfully strange language… It almost sounded like when I died…”
But then she giggled, soaring over their heads and heading back to the toilet.
“When you find a way to open it, do tell their ghosts that they can always come and haunt this bathroom with me,” she said.
Donnie shook his head. “We can’t open this—unless one of us suddenly knows Parseltongue?”
Each of them shook their heads.
“I wish there was a way we could get help,” Mikey said. “But any teacher we go to would only get Harry and Ron in trouble.”
“Help,” Raph said suddenly, his eyes lighting up as an idea struck. “Mikey, that’s it!”
He rushed out of the bathroom, his brothers hurrying after him.
“Raph, where’re you—?”
“To Dumbledore’s office,” Raph said. “There must be a clue or something there—something that we can use to help Harry and Ron. Don’t you remember what he said when Hagrid was getting arrested?”
“No,” Leo said. “We weren’t there, remember?”
“He said that help would always be given at Hogwarts to those who asked for it,” Raph said, ignoring the sarcasm in Leo’s tone.
“I don’t think—” Mikey started, but Raph whirled on him, and his brothers stopped dead in their tracks.
“Look,” he said, “this is our only shot to help Harry and Ron. We couldn’t help Hermione—” Donnie looked down, ashamed— “but we can help them. And even if we don’t find anything, wouldn’t you feel better knowing that we tried instead of sitting on our asses while Harry and Ron fought for their lives?”
His brothers were silent for a moment.
“We’re with you, Raph,” Leo said finally.
Mikey smiled. “Lead the way, bro.”