Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

your bath once, remember?’
    ‘Vividly,’ said Harry.
    ‘But I thought he liked me,’ she said plaintively. ‘Maybe if you two left, he’d come back again … we had lots in common … I’m sure he felt it …’
    And she looked hopefully towards the door.
    ‘When you say you had lots in common,’ said Ron, sounding rather amused now, ‘d’you mean he lives in an S-bend, too?’
    ‘No,’ said Myrtle defiantly, her voice echoing loudly around the old tiled bathroom. ‘I mean he’s sensitive, people bully him, too, and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings and cry!’
    ‘There’s been a boy in here crying?’ said Harry curiously. ‘A young boy?’
    ‘Never you mind!’ said Myrtle, her small, leaky eyes fixed on Ron, who was now definitely grinning. ‘I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone and I’ll take his secret to the –’
    ‘– not the grave, surely?’ said Ron with a snort. ‘The sewers, maybe …’
    Myrtle gave a howl of rage and dived back into the toilet, causing water to slop over the sides and on to the floor. Goading Myrtle seemed to have put fresh heart into Ron.
    ‘You’re right,’ he said, swinging his schoolbag back over his shoulder, ‘I’ll do the practice sessions in Hogsmeade before I decide about taking the test.’
    And so the following weekend, Ron joined Hermione and the rest of the sixth-years who would turn seventeen in time to take the test in a fortnight. Harry felt rather jealous watching them all get ready to go into the village; he missed making trips there, and it was a particularly fine spring day, one of the first clear skies they had seen in a long time. However, he had decided to use the time to attempt another assault on the Room of Requirement.
    ‘You’d do better,’ said Hermione, when he confided this plan to Ron and her in the Entrance Hall, ‘to go straight to Slughorn’s office and try and get that memory from him.’
    ‘I’ve been trying!’ said Harry crossly, which was perfectly true. He had lagged behind after every Potions lesson that week in an attempt to corner Slughorn, but the Potions master always left the dungeon so fast that Harry had not been able to catch him. Twice, Harry had gone to his office and knocked, but received no reply, though on the second occasion he was sure he had heard the quickly stifled sounds of an old gramophone.
    ‘He doesn’t want to talk to me, Hermione! He can tell I’ve been trying to get him on his own again and he’s not going to let it happen!’
    ‘Well, you’ve just got to keep at it, haven’t you?’
    The short queue of people waiting to file past Filch, who was doing his usual prodding act with the Secrecy Sensor, moved forwards a few steps and Harry did not answer in case he was overheard by the caretaker. He wished Ron and Hermione luck, then turned and climbed the marble staircase again, determined, whatever Hermione said, to devote an hour or two to the Room of Requirement.
    Once out of sight of the Entrance Hall, Harry pulled out the Marauder’s Map and his Invisibility Cloak from his bag. Having concealed himself, he tapped the map, murmured, ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,’ and scanned it carefully.
    As it was Sunday morning, nearly all the students were inside their various common rooms, the Gryffindors in one tower, the Ravenclaws in another, the Slytherins in the dungeons and the Hufflepuffs in the basement near the kitchens. Here and there a stray person meandered around the library or up a corridor … there were a few people out in the grounds … and there, alone in the seventh-floor corridor, was Gregory Goyle. There was no sign of the Room of Requirement, but Harry was not worried about that; if Goyle was standing guard outside it, the Room was open, whether the map was aware of it or not. He therefore sprinted up the stairs, slowing down only when he reached the corner into the corridor, when he began to creep, very slowly, towards the very same little girl, clutching her heavy brass scales, that Hermione had so kindly helped a fortnight before. He waited until he was right behind her before bending very low and whispering, ‘Hello … you’re very pretty, aren’t you?’
    Goyle gave a high-pitched scream of terror, threw the scales up into the air and sprinted away, vanishing from sight long before the sound of the scales smashing had stopped echoing around the corridor. Laughing, Harry turned