Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.

Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it was yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the Hat on his head a year before.

'You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that ...'

But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin house's reputa- tion for turning out dark wizards, had thought desperately, 'Not Slytherin!' and the Hat had said, 'Oh, well, if you're sure ... better be Gryffindor ...'

'Some of them are nice,' They all looked at Amelia, ' Mostly the first years before they get corrupted. Some of them want to be in different houes because they are afraid of what they will become from being put in a house that puts blood before people,'

As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevey went past.

'Hiya, Harry!'

'Hullo, Colin,' said Harry automatically.

'Harry – Harry – a boy in my class has been saying you're –'

But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him towards the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, 'See you, Harry!' and he was gone.

'What's a boy in his class saying about you?' Hermione won- dered.

'That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect,' said Harry, his stomach dropping another inch or so, as he suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him at lunchtime.

'People here'll believe anything,' said Ron in disgust.

'People are stupid,' muttered Amelia.

The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next stair- case without difficulty.

'D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?' Ron asked Hermione.

'I don't know,' she said, frowning. 'Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be – well – human.'

As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message