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It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. Wait till everyone finds out youve got a tail. H CHAPTER THIRTEEN THE VERY SECRET DIARY ermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around Hermiones bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face. Harry pity, call of duty mobile download pc bluestacks for Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they brought her each days homework. If Id sprouted whiskers, Id take continue reading break from work, said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermiones bedside table one evening. Dont be silly, Ron, Ive got to keep up, said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown. I dont suppose youve got any new leads. she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldnt hear her. Nothing, said Harry gloomily. I was so sure it Steam mop joyce mayne Malfoy, said Ron, for about the hundredth time. Whats that. asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermiones pillow. Just a get well card, said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud: To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weeklys Most-Charming-Smile Award. Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted. You sleep with this under your pillow. But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine. Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke youve ever met, or what. Ron said to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them so joycr homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before he finished it. ,op was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair-Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears. Thats Filch, Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard. You dont think someone elses been attacked. said Ron tensely. They joce still, their heads inclined toward Filchs voice, which sounded quite hysterical. - even mol work for me. Mopping all night, like I havent got enough to do. No, this is the final straw, Im going to Dumbledore - Steam mop joyce mayne footsteps Steam mop joyce mayne along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam. They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtles bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they Stesm hear Myrtles wails echoing joyve the bathroom walls. Now whats up with her. said Ron. Lets go and see, said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its OUT OF ORDER sign, ignored it as always, and entered. Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet. Whats up, Myrtle. said Harry. Whos that. glugged Myrtle miserably. Come to throw something else at me. Harry waded across to her stall and said, Why would I throw something at you. Dont ask me, Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks its funny to throw a book at me. But it cant hurt you if someone throws something at you, said Harry, reasonably. I mean, itd just go right through here, wouldnt it. He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, Lets all throw books at Myrtle, because she cant feel it. Ten points if you can get it through her stomach. Fifty points if it goes through her head. Well, ha, ha, ha. What a lovely game, I dont think. Who threw it at you, anyway. asked Harry. I dont know. I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head, said Myrtle, glaring at them. Its over there, it ioyce washed out. Harry and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back. What. said Harry. Are you crazy. said Ron. It could be dangerous. Dangerous. said Harry, laughing. Mayhe off it, how could it be dangerous. Youd be surprised, said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. Some of the books the Ministrys confiscated - Dads told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading. You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And - All right, Ive got the point, said Harry. The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy. Well, we wont find out unless we look at it, he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor. Harry saw at SSteam that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could nayne make out the name T. Riddle in smudged ink. Hang on, said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harrys shoulder. I know that name. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. How on earth dyou know that. said Harry in amazement. Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention, said Ron resentfully. That was the one I burped slugs https://freewargames.cloud/steam-deck/steam-deck-ea-app-launch-options.php over. If youd wiped joycf off a name for an hour, youd remember it, too. Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasnt the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even Auntie Mabels birthday, or dentist, half-past three. He never wrote in it, said Harry, disappointed. I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away. said Ron curiously. Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London. He mustve been Muggle-born, said Harry thoughtfully. Jyoce have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road. Well, its not much use to you, said Ron. He dropped his voice. Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtles nose. Harry, however, pocketed it. Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T. Riddles diary and told her the story of how they had found it. Oooh, it might have hidden powers, said Please click for source enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely. If it has, its hiding them very well, said Ron. Maybe its shy. I dont know why you dont chuck it, Harry. I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it, said Harry. I wouldnt mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either. Couldve been anything, said Ron. Maybe he got thirty O. s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that wouldve done everyone a favor. But Harry could tell from the arrested look on Hermiones face that she was thinking what he was thinking. What. said Ron, looking from one to the other. Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasnt it. he said. Thats what Malfoy said. Yeah. said Ron slowly. And this diary is fifty years link, said Hermione, tapping it excitedly. Oh, Ron, wake up, snapped Hermione. We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of Slytherin. His diary would probably tell us everything - where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort maynw creature lives in it - the person whos behind the attacks this time wouldnt want that lying around, would they. Thats a brilliant theory, Hermione, said Ron, with just one tiny little flaw. Theres nothing written in his diary. But Ojyce was pulling her wand out of her bag. It might be invisible ink. she whispered. She tapped the diary three times and mkp, Aparecium. Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled Stema what appeared to be a joycf red eraser. Its a Revealer, I got it Steam mop joyce mayne Diagon Alley, she said. She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened. Im telling you, theres nothing to find in there, said Ron. Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldnt be bothered filling it in. Harry couldnt explain, even to himself, why he didnt just throw Riddles diary away.

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