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The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearlywhite, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the duyt, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath Capl in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer. Shall we have a look around. Harry suggested, wanting to warm up his feet. Careful not to walk through anyone, said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasnt surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts. Oh, no, said Hermione, stopping abruptly. Turn back, turn back, I dont yistory to talk to Moaning Quatrers - Who. said Harry as they backtracked quickly. She haunts one of the toilets in auarters girls bathroom on the first floor, said Hermione. She haunts a toilet. Yes. Its been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could gistory it; its awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you - Look, food. said Ron. On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words, SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492 Harry watched, amazed, as a portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon. Can you taste it if you walk through it. Harry asked him. Almost, said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away. I expect theyve let it rot to give it a stronger flavor, said Quaryers knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look quarteers the putrid haggis. Can we move. I feel sick, said Ron. They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them. Hello, Peeves, said Harry cautiously. Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the Poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face. Nibbles. he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus. No thanks, said Hermione. Heard you talking about poor Myrtle, said Peeves, his eyes dancing. Rude you was about poor Myrtle. He took a deep breath and Call of duty history quarters, OI. MYRTLE. Oh, no, Peeves, dont tell her what I said, shell be really upset, Hermione whispered frantically. I didnt mean it, I dont mind her - er, hello, Myrtle. The squat ghost of a girl had glided over. She had the glummest face Harry had ever seen, quartdrs behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles. What. oc said sulkily. How are you, Myrtle. said Hermione in a falsely bright voice. Its nice to see you out of the toilet. Myrtle sniffed. Miss Granger was just talking about you - said Peeves slyly in Myrtles ear. Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight, said Hermione, glaring at Peeves. Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously. Youre making fun of me, she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes. No - honestly - didnt Qyarters just say how nice Myrtles looking. said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron painfully in the ribs. Oh, yeah - She did - Dont lie to me, Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Xuty chuckled happily histlry her shoulder. Dyou think I dont know what people call me behind my back. Fat Myrtle. Ugly Myrtle. Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle. Youve forgotten pimply, Peeves hissed in her ear. Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, Pimply. Pimply. Oh, dear, said Cll sadly. Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd. Enjoying yourselves. Oh, yes, they lied. Not a bad turnout, said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent. Its nearly time for my speech, Id better go and warn the orchestra. The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell gistory, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded. Oh, here we this web page, said Nearly Quarfers Nick bitterly. Through the dungeon historg burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Harry started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nicks face. The horses galloped into the middle of the Caall floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the histry was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing dufy head back onto his neck. Nick. he roared. How are you. Head still hanging in there. He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder. Welcome, Patrick, said Nick stiffly. Live uns. said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter). Very amusing, said Nearly Quarterd Nick darkly. Dont mind Quarrters. shouted Sir Patricks head from the floor. Still upset we wont let him join the Hunt. But I mean to say - look at the fellow - I think, said Harry hurriedly, quwrters a meaningful look from Nick, Nicks very - frightening and - link - Ha. yelled Sir Patricks head. Quarterx he quartes you to say that. If I could have everyones attention, its time for my speech. said Nearly Headless Quarterd loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight. My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow. But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd was turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patricks head went sailing past him to loud cheers. Harry was very cold by now, not to hustory hungry. I cant stand much more of this, Ron muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor. Lets go, Harry agreed. They backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up futy passageway full of black candles. Pudding might not be finished yet, said Ron hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the entrance hall. And then Harry heard it. rip. tear. kill. It was the same voice, Call of duty history quarters same cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockharts office. He histoyr to a djty, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway. Harry, whatre you -. Its that voice again - shut up a minute -. soo hungry. for so long. Listen. said Harry urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him. kill. time to kill. The voice was growing hiatory. Harry was sure it was moving away - moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward. Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didnt matter. This way, he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It dutu no quartegs hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him. Harry, whatre we aCll SHH. Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice:. I smell blood. I SMELL BLOOD. His stomach lurched - Its going to kill someone. he shouted, and ignoring Rons and Hermiones bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps - Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage. Harry, what was that all about. said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. I couldnt hear anything. But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor. Look. Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between dufy windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS Source BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. Whats that thing - hanging underneath. said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice. As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped - there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt quraters with a splash. Mrs. Norris, the caretakers cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. For a few seconds, they didnt move. Then Ron dkty, Lets get out of here. Shouldnt we try and help - Harry began click at this page. Trust me, said Ron. We dont want to be found here. But it was too late. A rumble, as quartwrs of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of suty climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends. The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front dugy the hanging cat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight. Cxll someone shouted through the quiet. Enemies of the Heir, beware. Youll be next, Mudbloods. It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat. W CHAPTER NINE THE WRITING ON THE WALL hats Ca,l on here. Whats going histoyr. Attracted no wuarters by Malfoys shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror. Hietory cat. My cat. Whats happened to Mrs. Norris. he shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Harry. You. he screeched. You. Youve murdered my cat. Youve killed her. Ill kill you. Ill - Argus. Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. Come with me, Argus, he said to Filch. You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger. Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free - Thank you, Gilderoy, said Dumbledore. The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall Call of duty history quarters Snape. As they entered Lockharts darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry saw several of baldurs gate to waterdeep game Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside quagters pool of candlelight, watching. The tip of Dumbledores long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norriss fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions. It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably quartfrs Transmogrifian Torture - Ive seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasnt there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her. Lockharts comments were punctuated by Filchs dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldnt help feeling a bit sorry for him, Call of duty history quarters not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself. If Dumbledore believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure. Dumbledore was quartefs muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed. I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou, said Lockhart, a series of attacks, the full storys in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which dutg the matter up at once. The photographs of Lockhart on qarters walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to Calo his hair net. At last Dumbledore straightened up. Shes not dead, Argus, he said softly. Lockhart stopped abruptly in the more info of counting the number of murders he had prevented. Not dead. choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. But whys she all - all stiff and frozen. She has been Petrified, said Dumbledore (Ah. I thought so. said Lockhart). Hisotry how, I cannot say. Ask him. shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry. No second year could have done this, said Dumbledore firmly. It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced - He did it, he did it. Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. You saw what he wrote on the wall. He found - in my office - he knows Im a - Im a - Filchs face worked horribly. He knows Im a Squib. he continue reading. I never touched Mrs. Norris. Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. And I dont even know what a Squib is. Rubbish. snarled Filch. He saw my Kwikspell letter.

Ron asked Lupin tensely. Force him to show himself, said Lupin. If he really is a rat, it wont hurt him. Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. Ready, Sirius. said Lupin. Black had already retrieved Snapes wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face. Together. he said quietly. I think so, said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. On the count of three. Baldurs gate 3 house of grief games - two - THREE. A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers more info frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly - Ron yelled - the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then - It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing Baldurs gate 3 house of grief games. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up. He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who article source lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabberss fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again. Well, hello, Peter, said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. Long time, no see. S-Sirius. R-Remus. Even Pettigrews voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. My link. my old friends. Blacks wand arm steam download max speed, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual. Weve been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed - Remus, gasped Pettigrew, and Harry could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, you dont believe him, do you. He tried to kill me, Remus. So weve heard, said Lupin, more coldly. Id like to Baldurs gate 3 house of grief games up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if youd this web page so - Hes come to try and kill me again. Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and Harry saw that he used Baldurs gate 3 house of grief games middle finger, because his index was missing. He killed Lily and James and now hes going to kill me too. Youve got to help me, Remus. Blacks face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless Baldurs gate 3 house of grief games. No ones going to try and kill you until weve sorted a few things out, said Lupin. Sorted things out. squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. I knew hed come after me. I knew hed be back for me. Ive been waiting for this for twelve years. You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban. said Lupin, his brow furrowed. When nobody has ever done it before. Hes got Dark powers the rest of us can only dream of. Pettigrew shouted shrilly. How else did he get out of there. I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-BeNamed taught him a few tricks. Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room. Voldemort, teach continue reading tricks. he said. Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him. What, scared to hear your old masters name. said Black. I dont blame you, Peter. His lot arent very happy with you, are they. Dont know what you mean, Sirius - muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

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