 bright red eraser.
"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said.
She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.
"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just
got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."
Harry couldn't explain, even to himself, why he didn't just throw
Riddle's diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary
was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages,
as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was
sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed
to mean something to him, almost as though
* 233 *
Riddle was a friend he'd had when he was very small, and had
halfforgotten. But this was absurd. He'd never had friends before
Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.
Nevertheless, Harry was determined to find out more about Riddle, so
next day at break, he headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle's
special award, accompanied by an interested Hermione and a
thoroughly unconvinced Ron, who told them he'd seen enough of the
trophy room to last him a lifetime.
200
Riddle's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It
didn't carry details of why it had been given to him ("Good thing, too,
or it'd be even bigger and Id still be polishing it," said Ron). However,
they did find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on
a list of old Head Boys.
"He sounds like Percy," said Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"Prefect, Head Boy ... probably top of every class -"
"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Hermione in a slightly hurt
voice.
The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside
the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no
more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and
Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were
becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving
childhood.
"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again,"
Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it
won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll
have Mrs. Norris back in no time."
* 243 *
Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry.
It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets,
with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster,
whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for
another fifty years ....
Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was
still convinced that Harry was the guilty one, that he had "given
himself away" at the Dueling Club. Peeves wasn't helping matters; he
kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Potter, you
rotter . . ." now with a dance routine to match.
Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks
stop. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the
Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.
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"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping
his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked
for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter
of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I
came down hard on him.
"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash
away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I
think I know just the thing . . . ."
He tapped his nose again and strode off.
Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on
February fourteenth. Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a laterunning
Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to
the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he'd
walked through the wrong doors.
The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse
* 235*
still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Harry
went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking
sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.
"What's going on?" Harry asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti
off his bacon.
Ron pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak.
Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was
waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking
stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle going in
Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had
just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the
forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the
liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end
here!"
202
Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall
marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however.
Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be
roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun
doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the
spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how
to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick
knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've
ever met, the sly old dog!"
Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was look
* 236
ing as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be
force-fed poison.
"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six, 51 said Ron
as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly
became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and
didn't answer.
All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver
valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as
the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarfs
caught up with Harry.
"Oy, you! 'Arty Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf,
elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.
Hot all over at the thought of being given a valentine in front of a line
of first years, which happened to include Ginny Weasley, Harry tried
to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd by
kicking people's shins, and reached him before he'd gone two paces.
"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," he
said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.
"Not here," Harry hissed, trying to escape.
203
"Stay still!" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry's bag and pulling
him back.
"Let me go!" Harry snarled, tugging.
With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand,
parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed
over everything.
Harry scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf
started singing, causing something of a holdup in the corridor.
*237*
"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco
Malfoy. Harry started stuffing everything feverishly into his ripped
bag, desperate to get away before Malfoy could hear his musical
valentine.
"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice as Percy
Weasley arrived.
Losing his head, Harry tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf
seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.
"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing
valentine:
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord
Harry would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the
spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his
feet numb from the weight of the dwarf, as Percy Weasley did his
best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.
"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class,
now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you,
Malfoy-"
204
Harry, glancing over, saw Malfoy stoop and snatch up something.
Leering, he showed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and Harry realized that
he'd got Riddle's diary.
"Give that back," said Harry quietly.
"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Malfoy, who obvi
* 238
ously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had
Harry's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring
from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.
"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy sternly.
"When I've had a look," said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at
Harry.
Percy said, "As a school prefect -" but Harry had lost his temper. He
pulled out his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and just as
Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting
out of his hand into the air. Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.
"Harry!" said Percy loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to
report this, you know!"
But Harry didn't care, he was one-up on Malfoy, and that was worth
five points from Gryffindor any day. Malfoy was looking furious, and
as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully after
her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!"
Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class. Snarling,
Ron pulled out his wand, too, but Harry pulled him away. Ron didn't
need to spend the whole of Charms belching slugs.
It wasn't until they had reached Professor Flitwick's class that Harry
noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary. All his other
books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as
clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. He
tried to point this out to Ron, but Ron was having trouble with his
205
wand again;