Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

shoulder. Ron was standing well back, and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.
    ‘What’s up?’ said Harry.
    ‘I – don’t – like – spiders,’ said Ron tensely.
    ‘I never knew that,’ said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. ‘You’ve used spiders in potions loads of times …’
    ‘I don’t mind them dead,’ said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window, ‘I just don’t like the way they move …’
    Hermione giggled.
    ‘It’s not funny,’ said Ron, fiercely. ‘If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my – my teddy bear into a dirty great spider because I broke his toy broomstick. You wouldn’t like them either if you’d been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and …’
    He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, ‘Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone’s mopped it up.’
    ‘It was about here,’ said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch’s chair and pointing. ‘Level with this door.’
    He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he’d been burned.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ said Harry.
    ‘Can’t go in there,’ said Ron gruffly, ‘that’s a girls’ toilet.’
    ‘Oh, Ron, there won’t be anyone in there,’ said Hermione, standing up and coming over. ‘That’s Moaning Myrtle’s place. Come on, let’s have a look.’
    And ignoring the large ‘Out of Order’ sign, she opened the door.
    It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Harry had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked and spotted mirror were a row of chipped, stone sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the cubicles were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.
    Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off towards the end cubicle. When she reached it she said, ‘Hello, Myrtle, how are you?’
    Harry and Ron went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
    ‘This is a girls’ bathroom,’ she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. ‘ They’re not girls.’
    ‘No,’ Hermione agreed. ‘I just wanted to show them how – er – nice it is in here.’
    She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.
    ‘Ask her if she saw anything,’ Harry mouthed at Hermione.
    ‘What are you whispering?’ said Myrtle, staring at him.
    ‘Nothing,’ said Harry quickly. ‘We wanted to ask –’
    ‘I wish people would stop talking behind my back!’ said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. ‘I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead.’
    ‘Myrtle, no one wants to upset you,’ said Hermione. ‘Harry only –’
    ‘No one wants to upset me! That’s a good one!’ howled Myrtle. ‘My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!’
    ‘We wanted to ask you if you’d seen anything funny lately,’ said Hermione quickly, ‘because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Hallowe’en.’
    ‘Did you see anyone near here that night?’ said Harry.
    ‘I wasn’t paying attention,’ said Myrtle dramatically. ‘Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I’m – that I’m –’
    ‘Already dead,’ said Ron helpfully.
    Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived head first into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight; from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.
    Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, ‘Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle … come on, let’s go.’
    Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle’s gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.
    ‘RON!’
    Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.
    ‘That’s a girls’ bathroom!’ he gasped. ‘What were you –?’
    ‘Just having a look around,’ Ron shrugged. ‘Clues, you know …’
    Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of Mrs Weasley.
    ‘Get – away – from – there –’ he said, striding towards them and starting to chivvy them