"The Chamber of Secrets?" Ron exclaid loudly, drawing curious glances from nearby students. He quickly feigned being bitten by the Sorting Hat, using the opportunity to smack it hard in retaliation.
"You insolent brat!" the Sorting Hat grumbled, glaring at Ron with its jagged brim.
Hermione pursed her lips and whispered, "You didn't tell us about this."
"Because it's not important," Harry replied, handing the hat back to Ron, allowing the two to continue their tussle. "I don't have the energy to divide my attention between this and researching Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets."
"And besides," he added, "this needs Parseltongue, which neither of you can do."
Even while wrestling the hat, Ron managed to poke his head over.
"So, who opened the Chamber?"
Harry shook his head.
"I'm guessing it's the sa as last ti."
"You an… You-Know-Who?" Hermione gasped, her voice catching in her throat and morphing with fear.
Ron's eyes widened in terror, his pupils brimming with dread.
"But… but he was driven off last year!"
Harry nodded calmly.
"He left. That doesn't an he can't co back."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. I've already told Dumbledore about this. He'll handle it."
"Malfoy's scheming is behind all this," Ron muttered with a shiver, clutching the Sorting Hat.
"He's trying to bring You-Know-Who back to Hogwarts?"
Unfortunately, Harry's reassurances didn't seem to help much.
The re ntion of the na acted like a curse, stirring instinctive fear in both of them.
"Harry, you'd better be careful," Hermione said, clutching her fists tightly, her face pale.
"That man is very likely to target you."
They launched into a discussion about which spells might provide the best protection.
The Chamber of Secrets quickly beca the hottest topic at Hogwarts.
Eager students unearthed references to it in books. The legend claid that the Chamber was a secret Slytherin had left behind when he departed Hogwarts.
Naturally, this tied into the recent theft in the Slytherin common room.
Only one painting had been stolen.
Connecting the two incidents led to an obvious conclusion: the thief must be Slytherin's heir.
This infuriated the Slytherins, who ground their teeth in frustration.
How could Slytherin's heir not even be from their house?
They shifted their focus from Gryffindor and started clashing violently with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw instead.
No one seriously suspected Slytherin's heir to be a Gryffindor.
But the Gryffindors weren't about to let such a pri opportunity slip away.
Hogwarts descended into chaos.
Even Lockhart's consistent habit of awarding fifty or sixty points per class couldn't counterbalance the rapid decline in house points across all four houses.
Amid this tense atmosphere, the first Quidditch match arrived: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
The Weasley twins plotted strategies to use the Bludgers to knock every Slytherin player off their brooms.
Even Wood hinted that while using wands was off-limits, any other form of foul play was fair ga.
But the match didn't escalate as expected.
Just fifteen minutes in, as a Slytherin Chaser was nursing a bloody nose courtesy of George's Bludger…
Harry caught the Golden Snitch.
Final Score: 150–0.
Nobody except Harry seed to take the ga seriously.
The mont the players rose into the air, chaos erupted, with students engaging in aerial combat. Madam Hooch's whistle went entirely ignored.
It took three fireworks from Professor McGonagall to get the players to land.
The Gryffindors celebrated exuberantly.
Senior students transfigured a massive lion, which hovered proudly above the Gryffindor procession as they paraded around.
They were desperate to parade the lion all around Hogwarts.
Even McGonagall was delighted, her hat slightly askew as she watched the Gryffindors' jubilant march.
This year, the Quidditch Cup seed within reach.
But then, a silver light streaked out of Hogwarts, landing on Professor McGonagall's shoulder.
The ssage it relayed turned her expression increasingly grim.
Raising her wand to her throat, she cast the Sonorus Charm.
"Every house's prefects and upperclassn," she commanded, her voice booming, "escort your students back to your common rooms imdiately!"
"No one is to wander off alone!"
The students were puzzled and resistant—except for the Slytherins.
Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had wanted to join the Gryffindors' celebration. After all, it wasn't often that the Slytherins were so thoroughly humiliated.
But McGonagall's stern tone left no room for negotiation.
Harry felt a sinking sense of foreboding.
Soon, the rumors began flying.
Hermione darted off to gather intel from so older students who hadn't attended the match.
She returned swiftly, her expression grave.
"There's been another incident," she reported.
"Two people were petrified, just like Mrs. Norris."
"Who?" Ron demanded.
"One was Creevey—the first-year who's been following Harry around, trying to take his picture."
"And the other was a seventh-year Hufflepuff girl."
Professor McGonagall soon arrived at the Gryffindor common room.
She summoned all the students who hadn't attended the Quidditch match, questioning them with a stern expression.
Harry noticed Ginny among the group.
Fear hung thick in the air.
The attack on Mrs. Norris during Halloween had barely registered for most students—it was, after all, just a cat, and an unpopular one at that.
But this ti was different.
It was students who had been attacked.
What if they were next?
What if the attacks escalated from petrification to sothing worse?
Once McGonagall finished her questioning, other students sward her with questions.
"Professor, what's happening?"
"Are we still safe?"
"Is the monster from the Chamber of Secrets on the loose?"
McGonagall raised her hands to calm the crowd.
"Rest assured, Headmaster Dumbledore has found so leads. We'll soon catch the person responsible for opening the Chamber."
"As soon as the Mandrakes mature, we'll brew the restorative potion and cure the victims."
Her gaze swept the room before landing on Harry.
"Mr. Potter," she called, gesturing for him to follow.
"There's a problem with one of your essays."
Hermione and Ron exchanged uneasy glances.
They knew perfectly well that Harry's essays never had problems. This was surely about the Chamber.
As soon as they stepped out of the common room, McGonagall's face grew more serious.
"It's Professor Dumbledore who wants to see you," she explained.
"He's found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and needs your help to open it."
Harry nodded, unsurprised by Dumbledore's quick progress.
He was, after all, exceptionally capable.
McGonagall led Harry to a disused girls' lavatory on the second floor.
"Harry, you're finally here," Dumbledore greeted him, shaking his head as if weighed down by his thoughts.
"Look—here's the motionless snake."
He pointed at a small, easily overlooked engraving of a snake on the side of a bronze faucet.
Harry frowned.
"Professor, I have to ask—how did you find this place so quickly?"
A girls' lavatory wasn't exactly the most obvious starting point.
Dumbledore's speed was... astonishing.
"It wasn't ," Dumbledore replied earnestly.
"It was the house-elves. They're incredibly capable, and their knowledge of Hogwarts far surpasses mine."
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