Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.
    Godric Gryffindor.
    ‘Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the Hat, Harry,’ said Dumbledore simply.
    For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall’s desk, and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.
    ‘What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban – we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘We’ll be needing a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don’t we?’
    Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.
    Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering under his arm, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.
    ‘Good evening, Lucius,’ said Dumbledore pleasantly.
    Mr Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.
    ‘So!’ said Lucius Malfoy, his cold eyes fixed on Dumbledore. ‘You’ve come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts.’
    ‘Well, you see, Lucius,’ said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, ‘the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They’d heard that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn’t agree to suspend me in the first place.’
    Mr Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.
    ‘So – have you stopped the attacks yet?’ he sneered. ‘Have you caught the culprit?’
    ‘We have,’ said Dumbledore, with a smile.
    ‘Well?’ said Mr Malfoy sharply. ‘Who is it?’
    ‘The same person as last time, Lucius,’ said Dumbledore. ‘But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary.’
    He held up the small black book with the large hole through the centre, watching Mr Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby.
    The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.
    ‘I see …’ said Mr Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.
    ‘A clever plan,’ said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr Malfoy straight in the eye. ‘Because if Harry here –’ Mr Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look, ‘and his friend Ron hadn’t discovered this book, why – Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn’t acted of her own free will …’
    Mr Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly mask-like.
    ‘And imagine,’ Dumbledore went on, ‘what might have happened then … The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle’s memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise …’
    Mr Malfoy forced himself to speak.
    ‘Very fortunate,’ he said stiffly.
    And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.
    And Harry suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.
    ‘Don’t you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr Malfoy?’ said Harry.
    Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.
    ‘How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?’ he said.
    ‘Because you gave it to her,’ said Harry. ‘In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book, and slipped the diary inside it, didn’t you?’
    He saw Mr Malfoy’s white hands clench and unclench.
    ‘Prove it,’ he hissed.
    ‘Oh, no one will be able to do that,’ said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. ‘Not now