The Hidden Hero

During the next few weeks, Harry was aware that conversations stopped when he walked by. Stares followed him down the hall and students avoided being alone with him. He knew that rumors were flying about Hogwarts and that, as Hermione predicted, many suspected that he was the heir of Slytherin. He felt Dumbledore’s eyes watching him from the staff table at meal times, although he was never able to catch him. Every time Harry looked up, Dumbledore was looking elsewhere. However, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that the headmaster had been staring at him only moments before.

Harry was grateful that Ron and Hermione were vocal in their support. He couldn’t imagine how he would have coped without them. He also felt a wave of gratitude toward Fred, George and Ginny. They all made a point of talking to him, and sitting with him at mealtimes. Harry didn’t know if Percy, Ron’s eldest brother, actually believed that the younger boy was Slytherin’s heir but Percy had obviously believed it to be politic to stay away from Harry. Percy always made sure that he sat at the furthest end of the table from wherever Harry was sitting.

Because Ginny sometimes sat next to him at mealtimes, Harry noticed that she was continuing to look very pale and stressed. He asked her whether she needed any help with her studies, but she said she was doing fine in her classes. Harry was concerned about her health and watched her closely. As a result, he noticed when she seemed particularly distraught one day and he followed her from the lunchroom, meaning to speak with her again. Perhaps he could convince her to see Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. A pepper-up potion might do Ginny some good.

Harry saw Ginny dart into a girl’s bathroom and decided to wait until she came out. However, she came out running and Harry was distracted from following her by the wails coming from the bathroom. Feeling a bit foolish, Harry pushed open the door of the girl’s bathroom and the wails became louder. “Who’s there?” Harry called. “Are you all right? Can I help?”

The wails subsided to muffled sobs. “What are you doing here? You’re a boy,” came a voice from inside one of the stalls.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, daring to come a bit closer. “I heard crying and I thought I could help. Please, is there anything I can do?”

Harry noticed that the stall from which the voice was issuing was overflowing. Water was sloshing on the floor and soon would reach the door. “Is the toilet overflowing? Is that why you’re upset?”

“Yes, I’m upset!” yelled the voice. A girl’s ghostly body passed through the closed stall door. Harry stepped back in shock and almost tripped and fell.

“Do you know why the toilet’s overflowing?! Do you?!”

Harry shook his head in silence. “Because that girl threw a book at me! Do you think it’s funny to throw things at me? Let’s all throw books at Myrtle, because she can’t feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha ha ha! What a lovely game, I don’t think!”

Harry made some soothing sounds. “I’m sorry…Myrtle, is it?” At the ghost’s morose nod, he continued. “I’m sure the girl didn’t mean to upset you. Can I help you clean up?”

Myrtle sniffed and looked at Harry suspiciously. When she was convinced that he was sincere, she admitted, “You don’t need to clean up. The thing got washed out; it’s over there.”

Harry found a small black book under the sink, where Myrtle was pointing. It was a diary and, on the first page, was written “T.M. Riddle”. He rifled through the pages, but the book was blank. “Do you mind if I take this, Myrtle?”

Myrtle stopped sniffing and looked at Harry more closely. She gave him a half-smile. “You can take it. You’re a nice boy. What’s your name?”

“Mark Twist.”

“You can come visit me again, if you want.”

“Thank you, Myrtle. I appreciate the invitation.”

*

Harry tried a number of revealing spells on the diary, in case it was written in invisible ink or had some charm placed on it to conceal its contents, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, he decided he might as well use it himself for schoolwork. However, when he put pen to paper, the ink was soaked up into the page and disappeared. Excited, Harry hoped he had discovered the secret of how the diary worked. He wrote, “My name is Mark Twist” and watched the ink sink into the diary and vanish.

A few heartbeats later, written in his own ink, the diary answered back. “Hello, Mark Twist. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?”

“Someone tried to flush it down a toilet,” Harry wrote back.

“People are always trying to hide the truth. Come let me show you the memories this diary holds. I know the truth of the Chamber of Secrets. It was opened in my fifth year and the monster within attacked several students, killing one. I caught the person who’d opened the Chamber and he was expelled. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned. I can take you inside my memory of the night I caught the person who opened the Chamber last time. Let me show you.”

Harry hesitated and then wrote, “OK.”

The diary began to glow and the papers rustled as if blown by wind. Harry felt as if he were pulled inside the book and he watched as a sixteen-year old Tom Riddle showed him the night, fifty years ago, when Tom had caught Hagrid concealing a monster in a cupboard. Harry watched, appalled but unable to change the past, as Hagrid defended the monster he had hidden, claiming that it had not killed anyone. The enormous spider ran out the door as Tom Riddle tried to stop it, and Hagrid threw himself on Tom to prevent him from hurting the monster. Harry found himself being thrust from the diary, as the memory came to a close.

Harry pushed his chair back from the table on which the diary lay. He watched the book with narrowed eyes, panting a little. Hagrid had opened the Chamber of Secrets in the past! No! He didn’t believe it! Tom Riddle was mistaken.

Harry didn’t tell anyone of the diary he had found, not even Ron or Hermione. He didn’t want to tell them the story of Hagrid’s monster. He didn’t want them to look at Hagrid with suspicion. If Hagrid had opened the Chamber in the past, it was a mistake. He wouldn’t do it again! Certainly, Hagrid wouldn’t try to purge the school of muggleborns.

The weeks went by and the school quieted again. People started to treat Harry more normally as it seemed that the Chamber of Secrets was staying closed. Then, Harry came back to his room one day to find that his things had been tossed around as if someone had been searching through his possessions. Looking quickly through his things, Harry realized that the diary was missing. A fellow Gryffindor had stolen the diary. No one else could have entered the Gryffindor dormitory. Ginny!

But, how had she known he had the book? Grimly, Harry recalled that he had been carrying the book when his bag had spilled in the hallway the other day. Anyone seeing him then could have noticed that he had the diary. Was Ginny in the hall that day? Harry didn’t remember, but she might have been. Why had she stolen the diary? To keep him from learning Hagrid’s secret, of course. That’s why she must have been so upset these last few months, he realized. She was worried that people would blame Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets again. Should he tell her that the secret was safe with him? No. He would say nothing for now. He would only embarrass her if she knew that he was aware that she had stolen the diary from his room. He would just keep an eye on her and see what happened.

Harry’s worry about Ginny was driven from him mind by a new worry. Only a few days after the diary was stolen from his room, Harry was walking through the hall with Hermione, on his way back from a late night of studying at the library, when he heard a chilling voice, seeming to come from the walls themselves. “Kill. Rip. Tear.”

He froze in his tracks, and Hermione asked him, worriedly, “What’s the matter?”

“Don’t you hear that?” he asked sharply.

“What?” She looked around.

The chilling voice came again. “Kill. Hungry.”

“You can’t hear that?!” Harry demanded, taking out his wand

“I don’t hear anything, Mark,” Hermione answered, sounding very worried. She drew out her wand too. “What do you hear?”

“I hear someone saying ‘Kill. Hungry.’ Someone wants to kill.”

“What?! Do you recognize the voice? Where’s it coming from?” Hermione asked. She raised her wand higher.

“I’ve never heard that voice before. I’m sure of it. I think it’s coming from the walls,” said Harry. He stared hard at the walls as if he could see through them if he tried hard enough. Taking a deep breath, he took a step backwards. “We’re closest to Gryffindor Tower. Let’s find Professor McGonagall and tell her that something very dangerous is going on.”

With their wands in front of them, clutched tightly, the two made their way to Professor McGonagall’s quarters. Harry knocked on the door and was relieved when Professor McGonagall answered quickly. It was still early enough in the evening that she was not yet in her dressing gown. She was worried to see two students standing at her door and asked quickly, “Twist. Granger. What’s the matter?”

Harry knew that his story would sound odd, but he knew what he had heard. This was too dangerous not to tell an adult. He could only hope that she would know what to do. “Professor. Hermione and I were walking back from the library when I heard a voice, coming as if from the walls, saying ‘Kill. Rip. Tear. Hungry.’ We didn’t see anyone and I don’t know where the voice went, but it sounded really serious. I’m afraid someone is going to try to kill somebody. We have to do something!”

During his recounting of the events, Professor McGonagall had turned white, and her hand had lifted to press against her throat in alarm. “Oh, Merlin! What can this be? We need to see the Headmaster right away. Come quickly!”

And, wasting no time, she set off towards Dumbledore’s office, with Harry and Hermione following. In a short time, Harry found himself telling the story again to the headmaster. He tried not to fidget under Professor Dumbledore’s piercing gaze. There was silence for a moment, after Harry finished speaking. Troubled by Dumbledore’s failure to take action, Harry urged, “Please, sir. I’m not lying! I really heard a voice saying that it wanted to kill! Please, we must do something!”

“A voice you heard coming from the walls?” repeated Dumbledore.

Knowing that this sounded ridiculous, Harry nodded miserably.

“And you, Miss Granger. You’ve been very silent. Did you think that the voice was coming from the walls, too?”

Hermione cast an apologetic look at Harry. “I…I didn’t hear any voice, sir.”

Professor McGonagall, who was standing behind them, uttered a shocked, “What?” Dumbledore, however, just sat up straighter in his chair and his eyes seemed to pierce Harry’s even more sharply.

“You were standing right next to Mr. Twist, and yet you didn’t hear any voice?”

“Yes,” Hermione admitted.

“I have heard, Mr. Twist, that you speak parseltongue,” said Professor Dumbledore.

Harry stiffened. Was this an accusation that he was a dark wizard? Didn’t they understand that someone was going to try to kill somebody? Did they think that, because he was a parselmouth, he would lie about such a thing?

“Yes, sir,” said Harry, tightly, holding on to his temper.

“Is there any chance, Mr. Twist, that the voice you heard was that of a snake?”

Harry froze. Now that he cast his memory back to the voice he had heard, it was completely possible that Dumbledore was right. “Yes, sir,” Harry said excitedly. “I can’t be sure, of course. But, maybe! That would explain why I could hear the voice but Hermione couldn’t.” Harry felt a wave of relief. He hadn’t had time to dwell on the fear, but a small voice in his head had wondered whether he was going crazy to be hearing a voice that no one else heard.

“If you heard a snake, it’s completely possible that one may have wandered into the castle and is looking for a mouse to eat. You could have heard it seeking its dinner.”

Harry thought this over and agreed that it was a logical explanation. “Yes, sir.”

“But, I will alert the heads of house,” promised Dumbledore. “If there is any danger, I want the students back in their common rooms and everyone accounted for.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Twist, for letting us know what you had heard. Professor McGonagall will escort you and Miss Granger back to Gryffindor common room now.”

And, as Harry and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall back to their rooms, they heard Dumbledore’s magnified voice issue throughout the castle, advising students to return to their common room right away. “Well,” thought Harry, “if there is some crazed person out there, looking to kill, everyone should be safe tonight.”

Everyone wondered why they had been ordered to their common room, but Harry and Hermione didn’t say a word. So, while rumors abounded, no one knew that Harry had heard a disembodied voice threatening to kill.

Hermione spent the next few weeks researching everything she could about snakes. Her research uncovered information about a monstrous snake called a basilisk. She believed, and Harry was inclined to agree with her, that the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was a basilisk. Legend had it that looking into the eyes of the basilisk was deadly. But, looking into its eyes through a reflection (such as a mirror) would result in petrification. Since Mrs. Norris had been petrified, Harry agreed that it was possible that the snake he had heard coming from the walls was the voice of a basilisk. And, if the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was a basilisk, Hagrid was innocent. The enormous spider that Tom Riddle had discovered Hagrid hiding was not from the Chamber. But, how to prove this?

Only a few weeks before the end of term, Harry noticed that Ginny was starting to look very pale again. Should he tell her that he knew that Hagrid was innocent? But, how could he explain without telling her that he thought he had heard a basilisk speaking in the walls of Hogwarts? And, then, something occurred that made Harry wish he had taken Ginny into his confidence.

Walking to the Quidditch pitch with his housemates to see a game, they heard Professor McGonagall’s voice, magnified as Dumbledore’s had been just weeks before, sounding throughout the castle. “All students are to return to their common room immediately!”

Harry hurried back to the castle and, in the common room, met Professor McGonagall. She was shaking slightly and her voice was hoarse. She looked over the assembled students and her eyes lingered on the Weasley brothers. Harry noticed that Ginny was not there and hoped that she would not get into trouble for not having returned to the common room when ordered.

“It is with great regret that I have to tell you all that a tragedy has befallen the school. We will be arranging for everyone to be sent home tomorrow, as the school is no longer safe.”

The students looked at each other in shock. Many of the children asked, “What do you mean, ‘not safe’?” “What has happened?”

Professor McGonagall had to hold her hand up to restore quiet. “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened and the monster has taken a student into the Chamber itself.”

Gasps filled the room. In response to the unspoken question, Professor McGonagall announced, her voice breaking, “Ginny Weasley.”

The Weasley brothers all yelled, “No!” Fred and George tried to leave the common room, but Professor McGonagall told them that they couldn’t leave. “No one knows where the Chamber of Secrets is! Where would you even go?”

They had no response to this and, angrily, pummeled the chair to relieve their tension. Ron buried his head in his hands, grieving. Percy just kept muttering, “Ginny,” under his breath.

Harry didn’t know what to do. This was his fault. He had known that Ginny had been upset about something. He should have kept a closer eye on her. Now, she was in the Chamber of Secrets (wherever that was) and at the mercy of a basilisk. Was there any chance she was still alive?

That diary Ginny had found held the answers. Yes, Tom Riddle had been wrong that Hagrid had opened the Chamber before, but it was Tom’s diary that had been upsetting Ginny. It just couldn’t be a coincidence that a diary that told lies about the Chamber of Secrets was in the possession of the one student snatched by the monster and taken into the Chamber.

But, how did knowing that the diary was a clue help him to find out who had opened the Chamber or where it was? He could think of nothing. In desperation, he decided to visit Myrtle again. Perhaps, when Ginny had tried flushing the book down the toilet, she had said something – anything! – that would help him now.

Harry waited until most of the common room was empty before he tried to leave. Even Ron had finally taken himself off to bed. Harry was immediately stopped by Percy, the prefect. “I’m sorry, Mark. No one’s allowed to leave the common room. You heard what Professor McGonagall said.”

“Yes, Percy. I know. But, there’s something I need to tell Professor Dumbledore right away. Something that might help him find Ginny.”

“What? What do you want to tell him?”

“I can’t tell you. I have to speak with Dumbledore.”

Percy looked at Harry suspiciously. “Are you the heir of Slytherin?” he demanded, roughly. “Did you take my sister?”

“No!” Harry was shocked that Percy could think this. “I would never hurt Ginny. Never!”

“What’s going on here?” demanded Fred and George, who had noticed Percy speaking with Harry.

“He said he knows something that can help Ginny and he needs to see Dumbledore,” explained Percy, waving his hand toward Harry.

“What do you know?” demanded Fred, his eyes lighting up.

“I…I can’t tell you,” said Harry. Fred looked ready to wring it out of the younger boy by force, but George put a restraining hand on Fred’s shoulder.

George said, in a would-be calm voice, “What do you know, Mark?” The edge in his voice made clear that he, too, was ready to resort to violence if Harry didn’t speak up.

“I know,” said a voice from behind the boys. The Weasley brothers turned around and saw Hermione standing at the bottom of the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, in her night robe.

“What?!” demanded the three brothers. As they strode over to Hermione, Harry took the opportunity to duck out the door. He knew that Hermione would tell them that she and “Mark” had figured out that the monster was a basilisk.

Despite what Harry had told Percy, he did not try to find Dumbledore. What was the point of telling Dumbledore that he thought the monster was a basilisk? He needed to know where the Chamber of Secrets was!

Outside the girls’ bathroom that Myrtle haunted, Harry saw the message left by the heir of Slytherin written in blood on the wall, underneath the first message. “Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber for ever.” No!

Harry hurried inside the bathroom and called for Myrtle.

“Oh, hi,” Myrtle said shyly. Even though he had been looking for her, Harry jumped when she appeared. Ghosts were always so startling, the way they just popped out of walls and things. “I was hoping you’d come back to visit.”

“Myrtle, I really need your help. A girl, Ginny Weasley, is missing and we all think she’s been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. When she came here before, to flush the diary down the toilet, did she say anything – anything at all – that might indicate where the Chamber of Secrets might be?”

Myrtle looked annoyed. “She was the girl who flushed the diary down my toilet?”

“Yes, Myrtle. But, she really didn’t mean to upset you. She was trying to get rid of the diary because she thought it told lies. Please can’t you help?”

“Well,” Myrtle pouted and whined, “she didn’t say anything to me. Not everyone’s like you, taking time to speak with a ghost. I guess they think they’re too good for me.”

“So, she didn’t say anything? You don’t have any idea where the Chamber of Secrets might be?” Harry was so disappointed, he could taste it. He knew that there was a very slim chance that Myrtle would be of help, but he so desperately wanted her to know something, it was devastating that she didn’t.

“I didn’t say that!” said Myrtle, coyly. “I said that girl didn’t say anything to me. But, I do know where she went.”

“What?!”

Myrtle smirked, pleased by Harry’s reaction. “Yes. I saw her open the sink over there and go inside a tunnel.”

Harry followed Myrtle’s pointing finger and saw a large sink. He examined it closely and saw a tiny snake engraved on the side of one of the copper taps. Taking a breath, Harry looked closely at the snake, tried to imagine it was real, and said, “Open up.”

Immediately, the sink sank into the floor and a wide pipe was exposed.

“Hey, that’s the strange language she used to open the sink,” said Myrtle. “That’s also how the boy sounded who opened the sink when I was killed fifty years ago. What are you speaking?”

Harry turned around to face Myrtle. “You mean you were killed fifty years ago, by the boy who opened this sink?”

“Yes,” said Myrtle.

“What did the boy look like?”

“I didn’t see his face. I just heard his voice, speaking the same language you just spoke.”

“Myrtle, I’m going into the Chamber to try to find Ginny Weasley. Can you please find Professor Dumbledore and tell him where the Chamber is and that I’ve gone in here?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Myrtle doubtfully. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to bother the headmaster.”

“I promise you, Professor Dumbledore will be glad you told him.” When Myrtle still seemed unsure, Harry said cleverly, “You will be the most important ghost in Hogwarts, Myrtle. No one else knows where the Chamber is.”

Myrtle shimmered brightly. “You’re right! I’ll do it!” And, without waiting any longer, she turned and left the bathroom, disappearing through the side wall.

Harry held his wand out in front of him, like a flashlight, took a breath and jumped into the dark pipe.