Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

opened his mouth in horror.
    ‘Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words,’ Dumbledore went on, smiling. ‘You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and – let me see – yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor.’
    Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart’s Valentine flowers and closed his mouth again.
    ‘But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure,’ Dumbledore added. ‘Why so modest, Gilderoy?’
    Harry gave a start. He had completely forgotten about Lockhart. He turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.
    ‘Professor Dumbledore,’ Ron said quickly, ‘there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart –’
    ‘Am I a Professor?’ said Lockhart in mild surprise. ‘Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?’
    ‘He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired,’ Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.
    ‘Dear me,’ said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver moustache quivering. ‘Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!’
    ‘Sword?’ said Lockhart dimly. ‘Haven’t got a sword. That boy has, though.’ He pointed at Harry. ‘He’ll lend you one.’
    ‘Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the hospital wing, too?’ Dumbledore said to Ron. ‘I’d like a few more words with Harry …’
    Lockhart ambled out. Ron cast a curious look back at Dumbledore and Harry as he closed the door.
    Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.
    ‘Sit down, Harry,’ he said, and Harry sat, feeling unaccountably nervous.
    ‘First of all, Harry, I want to thank you,’ said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. ‘You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you.’
    He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Harry grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched him.
    ‘And so you met Tom Riddle,’ said Dumbledore thoughtfully. ‘I imagine he was most interested in you …’
    Suddenly, something that was nagging at Harry came tumbling out of his mouth.
    ‘Professor Dumbledore … Riddle said I’m like him. Strange likenesses, he said …’
    ‘ Did he, now?’ said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully under his thick silver eyebrows at Harry. ‘And what do you think, Harry?’
    ‘I don’t think I’m like him!’ said Harry, more loudly than he’d intended. ‘I mean, I’m – I’m in Gryffindor, I’m …’
    But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind.
    ‘Professor,’ he started again after a moment, ‘the Sorting Hat told me I’d – I’d have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin’s heir for a while … because I can speak Parseltongue …’
    ‘You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,’ said Dumbledore calmly, ‘because Lord Voldemort – who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin – can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure …’
    ‘Voldemort put a bit of himself in me ?’ Harry said, thunderstruck.
    ‘It certainly seems so.’
    ‘So I should be in Slytherin,’ Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore’s face. ‘The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin’s power in me, and it –’
    ‘Put you in Gryffindor,’ said Dumbledore calmly. ‘Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue … resourcefulness … determination … a certain disregard for rules,’ he added, his moustache quivering again. ‘Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think.’
    ‘It only put me in Gryffindor,’ said Harry in a defeated voice, ‘because I asked not to go in Slytherin …’
    ‘Exactly,’ said Dumbledore, beaming once more. ‘Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.’ Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned. ‘If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this. ’
    Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall’s desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword and