Emma Potter

34: The Polyjuice Potion

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack onMrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing thespot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. I had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical MessRemover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly asever on the stone. 

When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of thecrime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging outat unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention forthings like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy."Ginny seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover."But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told herbracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny'slip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts,"Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and havehim out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filchbefore he's expelled. I'm only joking —" Ron added hastily asGinny blanched, I hit him on the head. 

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quiteusual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was nowdoing almost nothing else. Nor could Me or Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did we find out. 

Harry found Me and Ron in the library, me reading a book, and Ron measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three foot-long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of EuropeanWizards.""I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short. . . ." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll."And Hermione and Emma done four feet seven inches and her writing'stiny.""Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework."Somewhere over there," I said, pointing along the shelves."Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the wholelibrary before Christmas."Harry told Ron and me something about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away fromhim."Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," saidRon, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. I snorted "Allthat junk about Lockhart being so great —"Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She lookedirritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them."All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," shesaid, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-weekwaiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fitit in my trunk with all the Lockhart books.""Why do you want it?" said Harry. "The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "toread up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Harry quickly."That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip."And I can't find the story anywhere else —" I have my book" I said quietly "and there's no point?"

"What do you mean?" asked hermione "There's nothing about the Chamber of Secrets" I said "I looked it up Halloween."

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch. 

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had tendays to finish it —" 

"I only need another two inches, come on, Emma —" 

The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History ofMagic, bickering.

 History of Magic was the dullest subject on our schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was our only ghost teacher, and themost exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, manypeople said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up toteach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in frontof the staffroom fire; his routine had not varied in the slightestsince.Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notesand began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner untilnearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then fallingasleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. I put up my hand.Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, lookedamazed.