Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
the Hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy parcel bounced off Neville’s head, and a second later, something large and grey fell into Hermione’s jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.
‘Errol!’ said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.
‘Oh no –’ Ron gasped.
‘It’s all right, he’s still alive,’ said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.
‘It’s not that – it’s that. ’
Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Harry.
‘She’s – she’s sent me a Howler,’ said Ron faintly.
‘You’d better open it, Ron,’ said Neville, in a timid whisper. ‘It’ll be worse if you don’t. My Gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and –’ he gulped, ‘it was horrible.’
Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.
‘What’s a Howler?’ he said.
But Ron’s whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.
‘Open it,’ Neville urged. ‘It’ll all be over in a few minutes …’
Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol’s beak and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge Hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.
‘… STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY’D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE …’
Mrs Weasley’s yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the Hall were swivelling around to see who had received the Howler and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.
‘… LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED …’
Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn’t hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.
‘… ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER’S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME.’
A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron’s hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.
Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron’s head.
‘Well, I don’t know what you expected, Ron, but you –’
‘Don’t tell me I deserved it,’ snapped Ron.
Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt. Mr Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. After all Mr and Mrs Weasley had done for him over the summer …
But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out timetables. Harry took his, and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.
Harry, Ron and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Hermione seemed to think they had now been punished enough and was being perfectly friendly again.
As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout’s arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.
Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes, and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair
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