A Hogwarts Legend: Round Two [2]

Chapter Fifteen

They really should clean these floors....

"Scorch marks!" I say. "Here - and here -"

"Come and look at this!" says Hermione. "This is funny ..."

I get up and cross to the window next to the message on the wall, Harry behind me. Hermione is pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders are scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack in the glass. A long, silvery thread is dangling like a rope, as though they have all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" says Hermione wonderingly.

"No," says Harry, "have you, Ron? Ron?"

I look over my shoulder. Ron is standing well back, and seems to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I - don't - like - spiders," says Ron tensely.

"I never knew that," says Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in potions loads of times ..."

"I don't mind them dead," says Ron, who's carefully looking anywhere but at the window, "I just don't like the way they move ..."

Hermione giggles.

"It's not funny," says Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a dirty great 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 ..."

He brakes off, shuddering. Hermione is obviously still trying not to laugh, and so am I.

He's like me with fire, therefore I shall not laugh!

Much...

Changing the subject, I say, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."

"It was about here," says Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."

He reaches for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdraws his hand as though he's been burned.

"What's the matter?" says Harry.

"Can't go in there," says Ron gruffly, "that's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," says 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, I push the door open.

It's one of the gloomiest, most depressing bathrooms I've ever been in. Under a large, cracked and spotted mirror are a row of chipped, stone sinks. The floor is damp and reflects the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the cubicles are flaking and scratched and one of them is dangling off its hinges.

Hermione puts her fingers to her lips and sets off towards the end cubicle. When she reaches it, she says, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

Harry, Ron and I go to look. Moaning Myrtle is floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.

"This is a girls' bathroom," she says, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. "They're not girls."

"No," I agree. "We just wanted to show them how - er - nice it is in here."

I wave vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.

Yeah, this bathroom is as nice as Snape....