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Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again (Hem, hem), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them. The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching. Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagalls dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little Hem, hem and went on with her speech. Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, click for progresss sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation. Harry found his attentiveness ebbing, as though his brain was slipping in and out of tune. The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again. Meanwhile at the Hufflepuff table, Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy-eyed and Harry was sure he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefects badge gleaming on his chest. Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Harry had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Hermione seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste. because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, read article, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited. She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again. Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating, he said, bowing to her. Now - as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held. Yes, it certainly was illuminating, said Hermione in a low voice. Youre not telling me you enjoyed it. Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face upon Hermione. That was about the dullest speech Ive ever heard, and I grew up with Percy. I said illuminating, not enjoyable, said Hermione. It explained a lot. Did it. said Harry in surprise. Sounded like a load of waffle to me. There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle, said Hermione grimly. Was there. said Ron blankly. How about progress for progresss sake must be discouraged. How about pruning wherever we find practices that ought to learn more here prohibited. Well, what does that mean. said Ron impatiently. Ill tell you what it means, said Hermione ominously. It means the Ministrys interfering at Hogwarts. There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered. Ron, were supposed to show the first years where to go. Oh yeah, said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. Hey - hey you lot. Midgets. Ron. Well, they are, theyre titchy. I know, but you cant call them midgets. First years. Hermione called commandingly along the table. This way, please. A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. They did indeed seem very small; Harry was sure he had not appeared that young when he had arrived here. He grinned at them. A blond boy next to Euan Abercrombie looked petrified, nudged Euan, and whispered something in his ear. Euan Abercrombie looked equally frightened and stole a horrified look at Harry, who felt the grin slide off his face like Stinksap. See you later, he said to Ron and Hermione and he made his way out of the Great Hall alone, doing everything he could to ignore more whispering, staring, and pointing as he passed. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as he wove his way through the crowd in the entrance hall, then he hurried up the marble staircase, took a couple of concealed shortcuts, and had soon left Steam broccoli with chicken broth of the crowds behind. He had been stupid not to expect this, he thought angrily, as he walked through much emptier upstairs corridors. Of course everyone was staring at him: He had emerged from the Triwizard maze two months ago clutching the dead body of a Steam broccoli with chicken broth student and claiming to have seen Lord Voldemort return to power. There had not been time last term to explain himself before everyone went home, even if he had felt up to giving the whole school a detailed account of the terrible events in that graveyard. He had reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room and had come to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady before he realized that he did not know the new password. Er. he said glumly, staring up at the Fat Lady, who smoothed the folds of her pink satin dress and looked sternly back at him. No password, no entrance, she said loftily. Harry, I know it. someone panted from behind him, and he turned to see Neville jogging toward him. Guess what it is. Im actually going to be able to remember it for once - He waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train. Mimbulus mimbletonia. Correct, said the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open toward them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind, through which Harry and Neville now climbed. The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cozy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands before going up to their dormitories; on the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the notice board. Harry waved good night to them and headed straight for the door to the boys dormitories; he was not in much of a mood for talking at the moment. Neville followed him. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had reached the dormitory first and were in the process of covering the walls beside their beds with posters and photographs. They had been talking as Harry pushed open the door but stopped abruptly the moment they saw him. Harry wondered whether they had been talking about him, then whether he was being paranoid. Hi, he said, moving across to his own trunk and opening it. Hey, Harry, said Dean, who was putting on a pair of pajamas in the West Ham colors. Good holiday. Not bad, muttered Harry, as a true account of his holiday would have taken most of the night to relate and he could not face it. You. Yeah, it was okay, chuckled Dean. Better than Seamuss anyway, he was just telling me. Why, what happened, Seamus. Neville asked as he placed his Mimbulus mimbletonia tenderly on his bedside opinion steamworks flagship ipa commit. Seamus did not answer immediately; he was making rather a meal of ensuring that his poster of the Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch team was quite straight. Then he said, with his back still turned to Harry, Me mam didnt want me to come back. What. said Harry, pausing in the act of pulling off his robes. She didnt want me to come back to Hogwarts. Seamus turned away from his poster and pulled his own pajamas out of his trunk, still not looking at Harry. But - why. said Harry, astonished. He knew that Seamuss mother was a witch and could not understand, therefore, why she should have come over so Dursley-ish. Seamus did not answer until he had finished buttoning his pajamas. Well, he said in a measured voice, I suppose. because of you. What dyou mean. said Harry quickly. His heart was beating rather fast. He felt vaguely as though something was closing in on him. Well, said Seamus again, still avoiding Harrys eyes, she. er. well, its not just you, its Dumbledore too. She believes the Daily Prophet. said Harry. She thinks Im a liar and Dumbledores an old fool. Seamus looked up at him. Yeah, something like that. Harry said nothing. He threw his wand down onto his bedside table, pulled off his robes, stuffed them angrily into his trunk, and pulled on his pajamas. He was sick of it; sick of being the person who was stared at and talked about all the time. If any of them knew, if any of them had the faintest idea what it felt like to be the one all these things had happened to. Mrs. Finnigan had no idea, the stupid woman, he thought savagely. He got into bed and made to pull the hangings closed around him, but before he could do so, Seamus said, Look. what did happen that night when. you know, when. with Cedric Diggory and all. Seamus sounded nervous and eager at the same time. Dean, who had been bending over his trunk, trying to retrieve a slipper, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard. What are you asking me for. Harry retorted. Just read the Daily Prophet like your mother, why dont you. Thatll tell you all you need to know. Dont you have a go at my mother, snapped Seamus. Ill have a go at anyone who calls me a liar, said Harry. Dont talk to me like that. Ill talk to you how I want, said Harry, his temper rising so fast he snatched his wand back from his bedside table. If youve got a problem sharing a dormitory with me, go and ask McGonagall if you can be moved, stop your mummy worrying - Leave my mother out of this, Potter. Whats going on. Ron had appeared in the doorway. His wide eyes traveled from Harry, who was kneeling on his bed with his wand pointing at Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised. Hes having a go at my mother. Seamus yelled. What.
I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection. He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense. The Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it. he read aloud. Hagrids roosters were killed. The Heir of Slytherin didnt want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened. Spiders flee before the Basilisk. It all fits. But hows the basilisk check this out getting around the place. said Ron. A giant snake. Someone wouldve seen. Harry, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page. Pipes, he said. Pipes. Ron, its been using the plumbing. Ive been hearing that voice inside the walls. Ron suddenly grabbed Harrys arm. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. he said hoarsely. What if its a bathroom. What if its in - - Moaning steam linux icon bathroom, said Harry. They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it. Counter attack rules means, said Harry, I cant be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherins one, too. Thats how hes been controlling the basilisk. Whatre we going to do. said Ron, whose eyes were flashing. Should we go straight to McGonagall. Lets go to the staffroom, said Harry, jumping up. Shell be there in ten minutes. Its nearly break. They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staffroom. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down. But the bell to signal break never came. Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagalls voice, magically magnified. All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please. Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron. Not another attack. Not now. Whatll we do. said Ron, aghast. Go back to the dormitory. No, said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly Counter attack rules of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers cloaks. In here. Lets hear what its all about. Then we can tell them what weve found out. They hid themselves inside it, Counter attack rules to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staffroom door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived. It has happened, she told the silent staffroom. A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself. Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, How can you be sure. The Heir of Slytherin, said Professor McGonagall, who was Counter attack rules white, left another message. Right underneath the first one. Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever. Professor Flitwick burst into tears. Who is it. said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a Counter attack rules. Which student. Ginny Weasley, said Professor McGonagall. Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him. We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow, said Professor McGonagall. This is the end of Hogwarts.
What do you advise to me?