Ron-Weasly book 2

"And what is a squib?" Harry asked. I just giggled.

"Of course, it's not funny, but Filch... Squibs are those who were born into a family of wizards, but have been deprived of magical powers since birth. It's like the Muggles are the other way around. Squibs are very rare. More precisely, they are very carefully hidden because it is a disgrace for a pure-blooded family. And half-breeds remain living in the Muggle world with a Muggle parent. And if Filch is learning magic from the book Witchcraft for Beginners, then he's probably really a squib. Now it's clear why he hates the students so much.... I really feel sorry for him." And I smiled sympathetically. Mom's cousin is well settled in the Muggle world and doesn't even think about magic, but Filch constantly sees an example of what he himself is deprived of. Horror. Why didn't they put him in the Muggle world at all, because that's what all the old wizarding families do?

A clock struck somewhere.

"It's midnight," Harry hurried, "hurry up to the bedroom, otherwise Snape will come and cling to something again."

I took the sandwich I hadn't eaten before dinner out of my pocket and took half a bite at once. Damn, I'm hungry, so my stomach is grumbling.

"Here, take mine," Harry handed me his half-eaten ham and cheese sandwich.

"Thanks Harry, I don't feel like eating. Maybe persuade the twins to go to the kitchen to get food?"

* * *

For several days, there was nothing but talk about Mrs. Norris, and all because of Filch. He was hovering around the place where his cat had been bewitched, as if he was waiting for the culprit. I tried in vain to erase the writing on the wall with the help of "Mrs. Chistix's Universal Magic Stain Remover." He hid in the hallways, attacking schoolchildren, looking for a chance to punish them for "breathing too loudly" or "looking too happy." My sister wasn't herself after the accident with Filch's cat.

If it weren't for Percy the rat, who has been living with us for the eleventh year, we would have gotten a cat a long time ago.

"But you didn't know Mrs. Norris at all", I reassured her, "it's even better without her. Well, don't worry." Ginny's lips trembled at those words. She loves cats very much," I explained to my friends. But we already have a Skabbers living with us, so Mom won't let her have one of her own. This has never happened here. They'll catch this psycho and get him out of here, you can be sure of that. It would just be nice if he could put a Daze on Filch first.

Ginny suddenly turned pale.

"A joke! I hastened to add." Damn, he meant well, but it looks like he scared her even more.

Hermione was also unsettled. She had always loved to read, and now she was completely immersed in books. No matter how hard Harry and I tried to find out what was going on with her, it was all in vain. Her behavior only became clearer on Wednesday. After potions class, Snape left Harry to scrape test tube worms off the tables. In general, he likes to exploit Harry during work sessions or just detaining him after class, while simultaneously lecturing him on how to make potions or walking around his bully father. We went to the library, where we waited for him.

I was sitting at the far end of the library, measuring my magic history homework: Professor Beans had given me a meter-long essay on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards." It's strange, he usually talks about goblins. Have you decided to give something about wizards? So, we need to add something else.

"It's just a problem," I said, putting the tape measure away. The scroll immediately rolled up. "It's missing as much as twenty centimeters... And Hermione scribbled, and even in small handwriting, as much as one and a half meters."

"And where is she?" Harry asked, picked up the tape measure and unfolded his essay.

"There." I waved my hand at the long rows of bookshelves. "He's looking for a book. She probably decided to set a record by reading the entire library by Christmas."

Harry told me how Justin Finch-Fletchley shied away from him. I was trying to finish my essay at the time.

"So what!" I replied, writing the last few centimeters with a flourish. "Justin is a famous jerk. He even worships Lockhart...."

Hermione popped out from behind the shelves, clearly upset.

"The whole "Hogwarts Story" has been given out," she said indignantly and, sitting down with us, added: ""Sign up and wait two weeks"! I managed to leave her at home! And all because of the Lockhart books: I just couldn't fit in my suitcase...."

Hmm, is she disappointed with them? Well, if so.

"Why do you need the Hogwarts Story?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because that's why everyone needs it. Read the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What kind of Room is this?"

Harry asked. I had already stopped thinking about her, all my attention was occupied by the damn essay.

"There is this legend in the "History"", Hermione bit her lip, "but not in the other books. I don't remember her at all...."

He can promote a friend to her job, there are only 5 centimeters left. But there is no time to search for information anymore.

"Hermione, and Hermione," I looked at my watch in despair, "let me read your essay."

"And don't ask!" Hermione asked angrily. "What have you been doing for ten days?"

"I have only five centimeters left. What do you feel sorry for?"

The bell rang, and we ran to wizarding history; Hermione and I argued the whole way. It's a pity to let her write off 5 centimeters. I did the rest myself. Damn, Binns will lower the score.

It was the most depressing thing I've ever seen. The lectures were given by Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher in the whole school. It was boring, but it was fun-Mr. Beans came to class right from the blackboard. It was said that this ancient morel did not even notice how he died: he went to class one day, and the body remained sitting by the fireplace in the staff room.

Today, as always, Professor Beans opened his notes and let's creak like an unpainted cart; The class soon fell into a doze, and occasionally someone would wake up, write down a name or date, and go back to sleep. I didn't even try to record after him. Anyway, the Bagshot textbook is much more interesting, and the main thing is not only about goblin wars. No, I understand that you need to know the enemy, but you don't have to talk about them all the time. He had been creaking like this for half an hour, and suddenly something out of the ordinary happened: Hermione raised her hand.

Professor Beans looked up from his notebook in surprise, he had just reached the middle of a mournful lecture on the International Convention of Wizards of 1289.

"Yes, Miss... uh..."

"Granger, the professor. I wanted to ask you about the Chamber of Secrets", Hermione spoke clearly.

Dean Thomas, who was staring blankly out the window, came to his senses; Lavender Brown, who was lying on her desk with her arms crossed and her head resting on them, started up; Neville took his hands off the desk altogether.

Professor Beans blinked.

"My subject is the history of magic," He rasped hoarsely on one note. "I, Miss Granger, deal with facts, not myths and legends." Beans cleared his throat dryly, as if he had broken a stick of chalk, and continued: "In September of this year, the subcommittee of Magicians of Sardinia..."

He stumbled again as Hermione raised her hand again.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"But, sir, every legend is based on facts, right?"

Professor Binns was so stunned that it seemed to me that no one had ever asked him anything, either during his lifetime or after his death. Professor Binns was so stunned that it seemed to me that no one had ever asked him anything, either during his lifetime or after his death.

"Well," Beans drawled, looking at Hermione as if he'd never seen her before. "Perhaps you're right. However, the legend you asked about is pure nonsense, fiction, I would even say...."

But there was nowhere to go, the whole class pricked up their ears. Beans looked around the students absently: dozens of eyes stared at him questioningly.

"Well, that's good." Beans was even taken aback. "Let me remember..."

The Chamber of Secrets... um, um... the Room of Secrets... you all know that Hogwarts School was founded more than a thousand years ago — the exact date is unknown — by four of the greatest magicians and sorceresses of their time. Our faculties bear their names. Godric Gryffindor, Penelope Halfpuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, away from the eyes of meticulous Muggles: at that time, ordinary people were afraid of magic, so wizards and witches had to hide." He looked unseeingly at the students and continued: "For quite a long time they lived in friendship and harmony, they looked for capable young people and taught them how they could at this very school. Well, then Slytherin and the others had a big fight. Slytherin required very strict selection. He believed that the secrets of magic should be kept in the families of pure-blooded wizards. He didn't trust Muggles, because they turned over pureblood magicians to the Inquisition, and they often burned at the stake. Eventually, Slytherin and Gryffindor fell out completely, and Slytherin left the school." Professor Binns pursed his lips, making his face look like the face of an old wrinkled turtle. "That's all the chronicles tell us. But over time, the legend of the Chamber of Secrets overshadowed the facts. They started saying that Slytherin had made a secret room in the castle. That's how the myth originated. According to him, before leaving school, Slytherin put a spell seal on the Room. Since then, no one can enter it, only the heir of Slytherin will remove the spell, release the Horror trapped in the Room and expel those who are unworthy to study magical arts from school with his help.

Beans finished speaking, and a tense silence fell over the class. The students stared at the ghost, waiting for him to continue, but Beans was tired of this nonsense.

"All this, of course, is a myth. They were looking for a room, and more than once; The most knowledgeable witches and magicians were looking for it. The room does not exist. It's just a scary tale for fools.

Hermione raised her hand again.

"Sir, what is this, "horror trapped in a Room"?"

"Legend has it that this is a monster that will obey only the heir of Slytherin," Professor Beans explained in a dry, rustling voice "something snakelike, because all Slytherins were snake-eaters."

The students looked at each other in fright.

"Don't be afraid, there is no Room." Professor Binns shuffled his papers. "No room, no monster."

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "you're saying that only the real heir to Slytherin can open the room. Doesn't that mean that no one will find her until he shows up?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Professor Binns said angrily. "This Room is not there. If not a single headmaster has found it...."

I wonder if Binns can't remember the names, or if Seamus looks so much like his ancestor that the prof is confused?

"Sorry, Professor," squeaked Parvati Patil, "maybe we just need black magic here, but we don't have black magicians."

"Just because a wizard doesn't use black magic, Miss Pennyfeather, doesn't mean he doesn't have it", Beans raised his voice. "I repeat: if Dumbledore's predecessors... The same director is Nigelus Black..."

"But maybe you need to be related to Slytherin, but the director..." Dean Thomas started, but Professor Beans lost his temper.

"That's enough of this!" He snapped. "It's all a myth, a fairy tale, a legend. Bear in mind: There is no room. As there is not the slightest evidence that Slytherin even set up a secret closet in the castle. I'm sorry I told you this stupid story. And let's get back to the true story, to solid, reliable, verified facts."

Less than five minutes later, the class was sleepy again.

"Salazar Slytherin was clearly nuts" I declared after the lesson. Harry, Hermione, and I made our way through the crowd to our tower, hurried to leave our backpacks there and go to dinner. "So that's who, it turns out, started this mess with blood purity. I wouldn't go to his house for anything. If the Hat had assigned me to him, I wouldn't have hesitated to go home to another simpler school. Well, or transferred to Beauxbatons."

Hermione nodded understandingly, but Harry remained silent.

We bumped into Colin Creevey in the crowd.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Colin," Harry replied.

"Harry, a boy in my class said that you..."

But the crowd picked him up and carried him further into the Great Hall. Tiny, light Colin still managed to shout from afar: "Bye, Harry!" and disappeared from sight.

"What did the boy in his class say?" Hermione asked.

"I'm probably the heir to Slytherin." Harry said gloomily.

"What they won't make up!" I grimaced. Damn, there are already rumors. The end of last year wasn't enough for us, I thought gloomily.

There were fewer people on the spiral staircase in the tower.

"Do you really think there's a Secret Room?" I asked Hermione.

"Who knows?" Hermione frowned. "Dumbledore couldn't revive Mrs. Norris, and I think it wasn't a human who put her under a spell. — Beyond the next turn of the stairs was the hallway where Mrs. Norris had been found. Everything was as before, except there was no cat on the torch bracket, and there was a chair against the wall where the words "THE SECRET ROOM IS OPEN AGAIN" were emblazoned.

"Filch set it up. He's on duty here," I explained.

The hallway was empty now. The three of us exchanged glances. Let's look for it! Maybe there are some footprints here," Harry suggested, dropping his backpack and getting down on all fours. "Here's a charred spot! And so..."

"Come and take a look," Hermione laughed.

Harry got up and walked over to the window closest to the writing on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the top glass: a line of spiders was hurrying along it towards a barely noticeable crack. Behind her, a long silvery spider web waved like a wisp of smoke. The spiders were clearly in a hurry to get out.

Pancake. The spiders. The spiders! Alive! I backed away. And then he turned away altogether so as not to see them.

"What's the matter with them? I've never seen anything like it," said Hermione.

"Me too," Harry added, "and you, Ron? Eh, Ron?"

Harry turned to me.

"What are you?" Harry asked.

"I'm... afraid of spiders," I managed to say, staring at the inscription on the wall. Really? Hermione was surprised. "But you've made potions out of them a thousand times."...

"Dried spiders are still nothing. But the living ones..."