chapter twenty-one; the chamber of secrets
1992
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The rain was falling more heavily now.
On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger.
The crowd was roaring with laughter from the crowd and Elodie he knew looked very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past Wood. The Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.
"Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy in hatred, he saw it, the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear, and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it. For an agonising moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch.
WHAM.
He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. He slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side. The Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face. Harry swerved out of the way as Elodie's blue eyes were wide. Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear. Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him.
"What the. . . ." he gasped, careening out of Harry's way.
Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch. His fingers closed on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground. With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.
"Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won." And he fainted.
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"Harry!" Elodie was shaking him awake, her wet hair dripping onto his uniform.
He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with Elodie on one side and someone leaning over him. Lockhart was beaming as Elodie and Ron exchanged looks.
"Oh, no, not you," Harry moaned. "Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."
"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks. . . ."
Harry tried to sit up with a familiar clicking noise nearby.
"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," he said loudly.
"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times. . . ."
"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.
"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though hisSeeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say. . . ." Through the thicket of legs around him, Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.
"Professor, I really think he should go to Madam Pomfrey," Alyssa said worried.
"Nonsense," he said. "Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.
"No, don't. . . ." said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.
Harry had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly. Elodie's eyes went wide with horror as she gasped.
"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing, ah, Miss. Wilson, Mr. Weasley, Miss. Granger, would you escort him?, and Madam Pomfrey will be able to er, tidy you up a bit."
As Harry got to his feet, he took a deep breath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him pass out again. Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing happened. Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.
Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.
"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm.
"That's what I said!" Elodie said.
"You have some common sense then Miss. Wilson," Madam Pomfrey said. "I can mend bones in a second, but growing them back. . . ."
"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.
"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pyjamas. "You'll have to stay the night. . . ."
Elodie and Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pyjamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.
"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."
"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"
"No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either."
As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly. Elodie, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.
"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him."Regrowing bones is a nasty business."
So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help Harry gulp down some water.
"We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face. He looked ready to kill. . . ."
"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Elodie darkly.
"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff. . . ."
"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Ron.
The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry.
"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."
They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice. They gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"
"Bye," Elodie said, sending Harry a sweet smile before following Hermione out of the Hospital Wing.
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"I can't believe there was another attack last night," Elodie said Saturday morning as she, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the locked stall in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. An old cauldron was perched on the toilet, and there was a crackling fire beneath it. Conjuring up portable, waterproof fires was a speciality of Elodie's.
"I know," Hermione said as she and Elodie exchanged looks.
"I really hope there won't be another one before we can get this done," Ron said as Elodie carried on making the potion. Neither of them heard Harry walking in.
"It's me."
There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and Harry saw Elodie's blue 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.
"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."
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 Elodie tearing bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."
Ron, Elodie and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry told them everything Dobby had told him or hadn't told him. Elodie, Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths open.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Betsy 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 as Elodie began prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron.
"Or maybe it can disguise itself, pretend to be a suit of armour or something," Elodie added, "I've read about Chameleon Ghouls. . . ."
"You read too much, Dee," 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."
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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 rumour 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 Elodie 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 pure-blood, 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, Elodie 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 needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only place they were going to get them was from Snape's private stores.
"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 I'd better do the actual stealing," Elodie said chuckling. "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."
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Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favourite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Ron and Harry, who knew that if they retaliated they would get detention faster than you could say "Unfair."
Harry's Swelling Solution was far too runny, but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Elodie's signal, and he hardly listened as Snape paused to sneer at his watery potion.
When Snape turned and walked off to bully Neville, Elodie caught Harry's eye and nodded. Harry ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Knowing he had only seconds, Harry straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air. It landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron.
Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate. Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened.
Through the confusion, Harry saw Elodie slip quietly into Snape's office.
"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft, when I find out who did this. . . ." Harry tried not to laugh as he watched Malfoy hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon.
As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Harry saw Elodie slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.
When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.
"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."
Harry arranged his face into what he hoped was a puzzled expression. Snape was looking right at him, and the bell that rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome.
"He knew it was me," Harry told Ron, Elodie and Hermione as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "I could tell." Elodie threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.
"It'll be ready in two weeks," she said happily.
"Snape can't prove it was you," said Ron reassuringly to Harry. "What can he do?"
"Knowing Snape, something foul," said Harry as the potion frothed and bubbled.
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A week later, Harry, Ron, Elodie and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.
"They're starting a Duelling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons, they might come in handy one of these days..."
"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest. "Could be useful," he said to Harry, Elodie and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"
Harry, Elodie and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to theGreat Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.
"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd." Someone told me Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young, maybe it'll be him."
"As long as it's not. . . ." Harry began, but he ended on a groan.
Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works."
Elodie and Ron exchanged looks.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry, you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Elodie and Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands likes words in front of them.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured as Elodie giggled, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One, two, three. . . ."
Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!"
There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes.
"Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.
"Who cares?" said Elodie, Harry and Ron together.
Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my wand, ah, thank you, Miss Brown, yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see. . . ."
Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me. . . ."
They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry, Ron, Cassie and Hermione first. "Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan, Miss. Granger, you can partner Miss. Brown. Potter. . . ."
Harry moved automatically toward Elodie.
"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss. Wilson, you can partner Miss. Bulstrode."
Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Elodie of a picture she'd seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Elodie gave her a weak smile that she did not return.
"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow! Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents, only to disarm them, we don't want any accidents. One, two three. . . ."
Disaster struck as hardly anybody was casting charms to disown. Spells were flying in the air, flashes of lights were bouncing off the walls as Harry heard Elodie yell in pain.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.
"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted. A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting. Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologising for whatever his broken wand had done; Hermione and Lavender were getting bitter with each other but Elodie and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving.
Betsy's nose was bleeding heavily as she was panting heavily as she glared at Millicent. Millicent was sneering as she swung for Elodie. Elodie had a look to kill and if it wasn't for Harry running forward and stopping her, Elodie would have done serious damage to the older girl, despite Millicent being nearly three times her size.