Harry Potter 02 & The Chamber Of Secrets (Illustrated) (24 page)

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe criss-crossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favourite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn’t noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read ‘Pinhead’, kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Harry didn’t even care that Draco Malfoy was making loud, snide remarks about his new jumper from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his come-uppance in a few hours’ time.

Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the Hall to finalise their plans for the evening.

‘We still need a bit of the people you’re changing into,’ said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she was sending them to the supermarket for washing-powder. ‘And obviously, it’ll be best if you can get something of Crabbe and Goyle’s; they’re Malfoy’s best friends, he’ll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can’t burst in on us while we’re interrogating him.

‘I’ve got it all worked out,’ she went on smoothly, ignoring Harry and Ron’s stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. ‘I’ve filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they’re bound to eat them. Once they’re asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom cupboard.’

Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.

‘Hermione, I don’t think -‘

‘That could go seriously wrong -‘

But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had.

‘The Potion will be useless without Crabbe and Goyle’s hair,’ she said sternly. ‘You do
want
to investigate Malfoy, don’t you?’

‘Oh, all right, all right,’ said Harry. ‘But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?’

‘I’ve already got mine!’ said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. ‘Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Duelling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she’s gone home for Christmas - so I’ll just have to tell the Slytherins I’ve decided to come back.’

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to Harry with a doom-laden expression.

‘Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?’

*

But to Harry and Ron’s utter amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Hermione had said. They lurked in the deserted Entrance Hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle, who had remained alone at the Slytherin table, shovelling down fourth helpings of trifle. Harry had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When they spotted Crabbe and Goyle coming out of the Great Hall, Harry and Ron hid quickly behind a suit of armour next to the front door.

‘How thick can you get?’ Ron whispered ecstatically, as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backwards onto the floor.

Much the most difficult bit was hiding them in the cupboard across the hall. Once they were safely stowed amongst the buckets and mops, Harry yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Goyle’s forehead and Ron pulled out several of Crabbe’s hairs. They also stole their shoes, because their own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-sized feet. Then, still stunned at what they had just done, they sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

They could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the cubicle in which Hermione was stirring the cauldron. Pulling their robes up over their faces, Harry and Ron knocked softly on the door.

‘Hermione?’

They heard the scrape of the lock and Hermione emerged, shiny-faced and looking anxious. Behind her they heard the
gloop gloop
of the bubbling, treacle-thick Potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.

‘Did you get them?’ Hermione asked breathlessly.

Harry showed her Goyle’s hair.

‘Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry,’ Hermione said, holding up a small sack. ‘You’ll need bigger sizes once you’re Crabbe and Goyle.’

The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the Potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

‘I’m sure I’ve done everything right,’ said Hermione, nervously re-reading the splotched page of
Moste Potente Potions.
‘It looks like the book says it should … Once we’ve drunk it, we’ll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves.’

‘Now what?’ Ron whispered.

‘We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs.’

Hermione ladled large dollops of the Potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode’s hair out of its bottle into the first glass.

The Potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.

‘Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode,’ said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. ‘Bet it tastes disgusting.’

‘Add yours, then,’ said Hermione.

Harry dropped Goyle’s hair into the middle glass and Ron put Crabbe’s into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle’s turned the khaki colour of a bogey, Crabbe’s a dark, murky brown.

‘Hang on,’ said Harry, as Ron and Hermione reached for their glasses. ‘We’d better not all drink them in here: once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won’t fit. And Millicent Bulstrode’s no pixie.’

‘Good thinking,’ said Ron, unlocking the door. ‘We’ll take separate cubicles.’

Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Harry slipped into the middle cubicle.

‘Ready?’ he called.

‘Ready,’ came Ron and Hermione’s voices.

‘One … two … three …’

Pinching his nose, Harry drank the Potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.

Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he’d just swallowed live snakes - doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to be sick - then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes. Next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax, and before his eyes, his hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened and the knuckles were bulging like bolts. His shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down towards his eyebrows; his robes ripped as his chest expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops; his feet were agony in shoes four sizes too small …

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Harry lay face down on the cold stone floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Goyle. His large hands trembling, he pulled off his old robes, which were hanging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones and laced up Goyle’s boat-like shoes. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only the short growth of wiry bristles, low on his forehead. Then he realised that his glasses were clouding his eyes, because Goyle obviously didn’t need them. He took them off and called, ‘Are you two OK?’ Goyle’s low rasp of a voice issued from his mouth.

‘Yeah,’ came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right.

Harry unlocked his door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at him out of dull, deep-set eyes. Harry scratched his ear. So did Goyle.

Ron’s door opened. They stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Ron was indistinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding-basin haircut to the long, gorilla arms.

‘This is unbelievable,’ said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe’s flat nose.
‘Unbelievable.’

‘We’d better get going,’ said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle’s thick wrist. ‘We’ve still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is, I only hope we can find someone to follow …’

Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said, ‘You don’t know how bizarre it is to see Goyle
thinking
.’ He banged on Hermione’s door. ‘C’mon, we need to go …’

A high-pitched voice answered him. ‘I - I don’t think I’m going to come after all. You go on without me.’

‘Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode’s ugly, no one’s going to know it’s you.’

‘No - really - I don’t think I’ll come. You two hurry up, you’re wasting time.’

Harry looked at Ron, bewildered.

‘
That
looks more like Goyle,’ said Ron. ‘That’s how he looks every time a teacher asks him a question.’

‘Hermione, are you OK?’ said Harry through the door.

‘Fine - I’m fine … Go on -‘

Harry looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed.

‘We’ll meet you back here, all right?’ he said.

Harry and Ron opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear and set off.

‘Don’t swing your arms like that,’ Harry muttered to Ron.

‘Eh?’

‘Crabbe holds them sort of stiff …’

‘How’s this?’

‘Yeah, that’s better.’

They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin whom they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.

‘Any ideas?’ muttered Harry.

‘The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there,’ said Ron, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long curly hair emerged from the entrance.

‘Excuse me,’ said Ron, hurrying up to her, ‘we’ve forgotten the way to our common room.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ said the girl stiffly.
‘Our
common room?
I’m
a Ravenclaw.’

She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.

Harry and Ron hurried down the stone steps into the darkness, their footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Crabbe and Goyle’s huge feet hit the floor, feeling that this wasn’t going to be as easy as they had hoped.

The labyrinthine passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking their watches to see how much time they had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when they were getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.

‘Ha!’ said Ron excitedly. ‘There’s one of them now!’

The figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn’t a Slytherin, it was Percy.

‘What’re you doing down here?’ said Ron in surprise.

Percy looked affronted.

‘That,’ he said stiffly, ‘is none of your business. It’s Crabbe, isn’t it?’

‘Wh- oh, yeah,’ said Ron.

‘Well, get off to your dormitories,’ said Percy sternly. ‘It’s not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days.’

‘
You
are,’ Ron pointed out.

‘I,’ said Percy, drawing himself up, ‘am a Prefect. Nothing’s about to attack
me
.’

A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry and Ron. Draco Malfoy was strolling towards them, and for the first time in his life, Harry was pleased to see him.

‘There you are,’ he drawled, looking at them. ‘Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I’ve been looking for you, I want to show you something really funny.’

Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy.

‘And what’re you doing down here, Weasley?’ he sneered.

Percy looked outraged.

‘You want to show a bit more respect to a school Prefect!’ he said. ‘I don’t like your attitude!’

Malfoy sneered and motioned Harry and Ron to follow him. Harry almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught himself just in time. He and Ron hurried after Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage, ‘That Peter Weasley -‘

‘Percy,’ Ron corrected him automatically.

‘Whatever,’ said Malfoy. ‘I’ve noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he’s up to. He thinks he’s going to catch Slytherin’s heir single-handed.’

He gave a short, derisive laugh. Harry and Ron exchanged excited looks.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

‘What’s the new password again?’ he said to Harry.

‘Er -‘ said Harry.

‘Oh yeah -
pure-blood
!’ said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it and Harry and Ron followed him.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

‘Wait here,’ said Malfoy to Harry and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. ‘I’ll go and get it - my father’s just sent it to me -‘

Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Harry and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper cutting. He thrust it under Ron’s nose.

‘That’ll give you a laugh,’ he said.

Harry saw Ron’s eyes widen in shock. He read the cutting quickly, gave a very forced laugh and handed it to Harry.

It had been clipped out of the
Daily Prophet
, and it said: