A week later, and the Trio had made some progress. Hermione had learned enough about the various possible creatures to develop, with Ron’s help, plans by which they could be vanquished. “Harry, I really think we should go to a teacher with this,” Hermione finally said. “I mean, don’t you think Professor Snape will be annoyed that you haven’t told him any of this?”

“Yeah, mate. Does he even know you speak parseltongue?” Ron asked.

Harry squirmed. He felt guilty at not telling Snape, but he still had some concerns that he and his friends were wrong, and the voice was just in his head. He didn’t want to go to the professor with an elaborate story about chimeras and basilisks only to find that it was all part of his delusion. No, he’d wait until he had proof that there was some magical creature running around the castle before telling anyone. “He’s been really busy looking for that diary, guys,” he explained lamely. “I don’t want to bother him with this until we’re sure of our facts.”

The dubious looks he got made it clear that his friends weren’t fooled by his excuse, but he knew they’d keep his secret. A little longer, at least. “Hey, is Ginny any better?”

Ron’s face turned grim. “No. Professor McGonagall had Madame Pomfrey check her out. I don’t know a lot of what they found, but I overheard McGonagall talking to Percy –“

“Was that when you were accidentally leaning against McGonagall’s door?” Harry asked, grinning.

“Ha, ha. It’s not like anyone tells us anything,” Ron returned. “Anyway, she said something about how Ginny’s magical core is being drained, but they can’t figure out why. If they can’t stop it soon, they’re going to have to send her to St Mungo’s. Pomfrey’s keeping her in the Infirmary until they decide what to do.”

“This is so odd,” Hermione sighed. “Things like this don’t happen at Muggle boarding schools! What is going on this year? I mean, first Professor Snape decides he likes Harry – and Harry decides he likes Professor Snape – and then Malfoy starts acting like a human, mostly, and then some weird half-mythical creature starts haunting the place, and then Ginny gets sick and a Dark artifact goes missing and…” She sighed. “And this is only our second year!”

“You know,” Harry said thoughtfully, “you were talking about haunting. What if the voice is a ghost? Or what if Ginny’s being drained by a ghost?”

“There are plenty of ghosts around this place, mate,” Ron pointed out. “No one’s been bugging you or draining students before now.”

“I guess,” Harry sounded unconvinced. “I just wish I knew what the ghosts know. They’ve been here so long, after all. Like Hermione says, it’s only our second year. I wonder if any of this stuff did happen before. I bet the ghosts could tell us if it has.”

Ron shrugged. “Okay, so which one do we ask?”

“Ron, I didn’t want to say anything before, just in case this was the sort of thing Ginny normally does, but I’ve seen her sneaking into Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory several times,” Hermione revealed, looking pink.

The redhead looked insulted. “My sister doesn’t normally hang around in toilets!”

“Don’t get offended! I didn’t know if that was the only place in the Burrow where she could go to have some privacy.”

“Nah, Gin’s got her own room for all that girl stuff. She’s never spent any extra time in a lav before – I mean,” he blushed, “unless it was, er, necessary.”

“Then I say the first ghost we talk to is Myrtle,” Hermione said.

And so on Saturday afternoon, the three of them ventured into Myrtles’ lair. “Remember, be nice!” Hermione instructed. “Don’t go upsetting her!”

“Eeeeeew! Boys! Boys in the girls’ lavatory!” Myrtle floated over, pointing accusingly at Ron and Harry.

“Er, they’re with me, Myrtle,” Hermione offered. “They’ve been saying how much they’d like to talk with you.”

“Really?” Myrtle asked suspiciously. “Why?”

“Er, well, because you’ve been here a while and you must have seen some interesting stuff,” Harry began.

“Bad boy!” Myrtle scolded. “You’re a bad boy for wanting to know what goes on in a girls’ toilet! You have a nasty, dirty mind!”

Harry turned fiery red and started to stammer out a denial, but Myrtle turned her back on him.

“Er, Myrtle, I was talking to some of the girls, and we were thinking of having a makeover party here. Would you like that? We could all do each other’s hair and try different makeup styles.” Hermione offered temptingly.

Myrtle looked sulky. “You can’t do my makeup or hair. It’s not very nice to have a party where not everyone can participate.”

“I don’t see why you’d want to change the way you look, Myrtle,” Ron surged into the fray. “I think you’re awfully pretty just the way you are.”

To everyone’s surprise, Myrtle simpered. “Really? You’re a nice boy. What’s your name?”

“Er, Ron. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Ron. I always liked redheads,” Myrtle giggled. Hermione and Harry exchanged astonished looks behind the ghost’s semi-transparent back, while Ron smirked and tried to hide his blush.

“Well, uh, I always liked girls that – that look like you,” he said, manfully struggling to keep the conversation going. “Uh, I bet you had lots of boyfriends, um, before.”

“Oh, you!” she swatted at him with a ghostly hand. “You just say that to all the girls!”

“No, no!” Ron said with absolute sincerity. “Honest!”

“I like you,” Myrtle confided. “You’re not like the others who come in here. They just make fun of me or ignore me.”

“I can’t believe anyone would ignore you, Myrtle,” Ron protested.

“She did! That little redheaded girl always ignores me!” Myrtle insisted. “The last time, she walked right through me to get to that last stall! I think that’s just the rudest thing, don’t you?”

While Ron soothed and schmoozed Ginny, Hermione and Harry made a beeline for the indicated stall. Sure enough, a few moments’ searching revealed a leatherbound journal hidden behind the toilet. “Harry,” Hermione said flatly, “now we need to tell Professor Snape. No more delays. Not when it might help Ginny.”

Harry nodded. “You’re right, ‘Mione. Let’s go get him.”

Leaving the book where it was, they hurried out, finding Ron and Myrtle in companionable conversation. “Hey guys, look what Myrtle was showing me. She says hers is the only toilet in all of Hogwarts that has its own special decorations.” He pointed to some small carved snakes on the wall.

“Wow!” Harry said. “Those things almost look real.”

The snakes reared back, the stone carving following their movement. “You can talk?”

Harry turned to his friends. “Guys, look!”

“Does the little master wish to go below?” one of the snakes hissed.

Harry turned back to the others. “They’re talking about some Chamber with a Creature in it. I think there must be some kind of entrance here. Go get Snape. I’ll try to learn more about what’s going on while you bring him here.”

Ron and Hermione turned to go, then Ron turned back. “Harry – you won’t do anything on your own?”

Harry shook his head firmly. “No way. Snape would kill me.”

“And we would too!” Hermione agreed. She gave Harry a quick hug. “We’ll be right back, and we’ll bring help!”

##

Ron ran down to the dungeons. “Please be there, please be there, please be there,” he thought frantically as he pounded on the door to Snape’s quarters.

“Mr Weasley, you had better have an excellent reason for behaving in so boorish a manner –“ Snape snapped, yanking the door open.

“Harry – Chamber – Creature!” Ron panted, out of breath from his race down the staircases.

Snape’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Harry’s a parselmouth,” Ron gasped. “He’s been hearing voices. We think it’s a snake or basilisk or maybe a chimera somewhere in the castle. We – pant, pant – went to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and found Ginny’s diary there, but then Harry started talking to some snakes and they told him about the chamber and they said there’s a creature –“

Snape’s lips had tightened into a thin line as Ron’s explanation progressed. “You foolish children!” he snarled, dragging Ron into his rooms. “Don’t you know how Myrtle died? She was killed by the stare of a basilisk!”

“Wow.” Ron was genuinely amazed. “We got it right. I guess research does work.”

Snape didn’t waste time smacking him, he was too busy running to the floo. “Albus! Minerva!”

As soon as the witch and wizard answered his urgent summons, he quickly summarized, “Potter is in Myrtle’s lavatory. He is a parselmouth and can apparently open the Chamber. He’s also found the Riddle diary. Get the other teachers and meet me there! Albus, if you have a pair of protective glasses from the last episode with the basilisk, bring them!” Not waiting for a reply, Snape dashed from the room. Ron started after him but then had a better idea and ran back to the fireplace.

Hermione, meanwhile, was equally busy. After Harry’s conversation with Snape, she had practiced and practiced and was now able to Imperius a chicken with ease. She raced to the Owlrey. “Hedwig! You have to come with me!” she said, grabbing the startled snowy owl. “Harry’s in trouble!”

Hedwig hooted and immediately latched onto Hermione’s shoulder as the girl raced down the steps, heading for Hagrid’s chicken coop. A few minutes later, she had two roosters and one half-giant hurrying behind her as she made her way back to the castle. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

“Hermione!” Hagrid bellowed. “That be the wrong way!”

“I need one more!” she yelled back, not slowing down.

Harry, meanwhile, had given up talking to Myrtle. The ghost, having decided he was a nasty boy, was giving him the cold shoulder. After much internal debate, Harry decided to retrieve the diary from the stall. After all, Snape was on his way, so it wasn’t as if he weren’t going to hand it over immediately. But ever since he’d seen the book, he’d felt a weird desire to touch it. Just to feel it in his hands. To see if he could sense the Dark magic Draco claimed it contained.

I won’t open it, he told himself. I’ll just pick it up and put it in my pocket. Carefully, using his robe to shield his bare hands, he pulled the diary out and slipped it into his pocket. It felt weird. Not cold exactly, but not like a regular book either. Or maybe that was just his imagination giving him the creeps.

“Little speaker, beware. The Creature is hungry. It hurts. It aches. It needs to feed.”

“What do you mean? Just say ‘ Open, please’?”

And it did.

Whatever Harry had been expecting, it wasn’t the abrupt opening of the floor beneath him. He suddenly stood at the edge of a yawning pit, and frightened, he jerked backwards towards safer footing.

It was the leaky toilets which proved his undoing. He skidded on the wet, slick surface, and with a startled cry, tumbled forward into the abyss.