Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

you,’ said Ron. He dropped his voice. ‘Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle’s nose.’
    Harry, however, pocketed it.
    *
    Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T. M. Riddle’s diary and told her the story of how they had found it.
    ‘Oooh, it might have hidden powers,’ said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.
    ‘If it has, it’s hiding them very well,’ said Ron. ‘Maybe it’s shy. I don’t know why you don’t chuck it, Harry.’
    ‘I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it,’ said Harry. ‘I wouldn’t mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts, either.’
    ‘Could’ve been anything,’ said Ron. ‘Maybe he got thirty O.W.Ls or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle, that would’ve done everyone a favour …’
    But Harry could tell from the arrested look on Hermione’s face that she was thinking what he was thinking.
    ‘What?’ said Ron, looking from one to the other.
    ‘Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn’t it?’ he said. ‘That’s what Malfoy said.’
    ‘Yeah …’ said Ron slowly.
    ‘And this diary is fifty years old,’ said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.
    ‘So?’
    ‘Oh, Ron, wake up,’ snapped Hermione. ‘We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the heir of Slytherin ? His diary would probably tell us everything: where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it. The person who’s behind the attacks this time wouldn’t want that lying around, would they?’
    ‘That’s a brilliant theory, Hermione,’ said Ron, ‘with just one tiny little flaw. There’s nothing written in his diary.’
    But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag.
    ‘It might be invisible ink!’ she whispered.
    She tapped the diary three times and said, ‘Aparecium!’
    Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.
    ‘It’s a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,’ she said.
    She rubbed hard on ‘January the first’. Nothing happened.
    ‘I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,’ said Ron. ‘Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered filling it in.’
    *
    Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absent-mindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it was a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.
    Nevertheless, Harry was determined to find out more about Riddle, so, next day at break, he headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle’s special award, accompanied by an interested Hermione and a thoroughly unconvinced Ron, who told them he’d seen enough of the trophy room to last him a lifetime.
    Riddle’s burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn’t carry details of why it had been given to him (‘Good thing, too, or it’d be even bigger and I’d still be polishing it,’ said Ron). However, they did find Riddle’s name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boys.
    ‘He sounds like Percy,’ said Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust. ‘Prefect, Head Boy – probably top of every class.’
    ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ said Hermione, in a slightly hurt voice.
    *
    The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.
    ‘The moment their acne clears up, they’ll be ready for re-potting again,’ Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. ‘And after that, it