"Bowtruckle," I say to the Griffin statue. Its wings unfold and the spiraling stairs start to move. I step in and wait as it takes me up.

I gently knock on the door at the top and watch as it opens for me. I step into the gleaming room.

"Hello Jordan," Dumbledore greets me. He's standing at his desk. Professor McGonagall is also present.

"Uh, I can come back," I say.

"No need, please, what can I help you with?"

"Well, I searched the library and found nothing on ... on the chamber of secrets. And I was wondering if I might ask you," I say. Dumbledore looks at McGonagall and nods his head.

"You might want to sit down, Miss Potter," she says. I walk over to a chair and sit down. Dumbledore does the same.

"Very well. You know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Three of the founders co-existed quite harmoniously. One did not. Salazar Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. In other words, purebloods. Unable to sway the others, he decided to leave the school. According to legend, Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in this castle, known as the Chamber of Secrets. Shortly before departing, he sealed it until that time when his own true heir returned to the school. The heir alone would be able to open the Chamber of Secrets and unleash the horror within, and by so doing, purge the school of all those who, in Slytherin's view, were unworthy to study magic."

"Muggle-borns," I say.

"Yes. Naturally, the school has been searched many times for such a chamber. It has never been found."

"Professor, what exactly does legend tell us lies within the Chamber?"

"The Chamber is said to be home to something which the heir of Slytherin alone can control. It is said to be home... to a monster."

I slowly nod as I take in all the new information. "And you really think someone's opened it?"

"We believe so Miss Potter," Dumbledore says standing up. I do the same.

"Um, thank you, Professor," I say walking towards the door.

"Jordan."

I turn to the Headmaster.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

I hesitate, then shake my head.

"Very well," he says, eyes twinkling. I nod and leave the room.

''''

The crowd roars, watching as Slytherin Chasers, bent low over their new brooms, jet past the overmatched Gryffindors.

"Another goal for Slytherin! They lead Gryffindor 90 to 30."

I fly past a Slytherin chaser a grab the quaffle.

"Potter grabs the quaffle from Clifton, oh she better make this shot, or Griffindors in trouble."

I dodge the chaser and beaters and race toward the goalposts. I fake out the Keeper and throw the ball into the left goalpost.

"And Griffindor scores! Wait, what's happening with Potter?"

I turn and watch as Harry soars through the air, Malfoy at his shoulder, I frown as I watch a bludger chase violently after them.

"Oi Jordan," Wood yells at me. "Pay attention, come on."

The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile, the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"We need a time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger from breaking Harry's nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina from scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily.

"Someone's fixed it -it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it," I say.

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then . . . . "said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.

"Oliver, this is insane," I say angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry - "

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. " 'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him -"

Madam Hooch had joined them."Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood. Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry -leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium.

I tore my eyes from Harry and continued the game, shoving the Slytherin chases to the side.

"Oi, Jordan! Duck!" I duck my head as Fred knocks a bludger toward a chaser. The Slytherin is knocked off his broom and I'm given a clear shot toward the goalpost.

I throw the ball towards Katie, and she catches it and throws it into the center goalpost. I high-five her and we race off as the crowd cheers.

I tear my eyes away from the game and look for Harry. With a splattering thud, he hits the mud and rolls off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Griffindor Wins!" I cheer and begin to fly down toward the ground. I'm about 50 feet from the group when -

"Jordan look out!" I turn and watch as the rouge bludger speeds toward me, hits my leg, and sends me flying off my broom.

As I land on the hard ground I feel my leg snap and I grunt in pain. I feel myself being lifted up of the ground. My vision becomes clear and I see Fred and George supporting me.

"What happened?" I ask, slightly confused.

"A bloody bludger, that's what happened," answers George. I nod in understanding and I limp over to the crowd around Harry.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxiouscrowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry.I'm about to fix your arm."

"Don't touch him," I groan as we reach the scene.

"Oh, Miss, Potter, not to worry I can you right after I help your poor brother," Lockheart says excitedly.

"No thanks," I whisper so only Fred and George can hear me. They stifle a laugh.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I'veused countless times -"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry throughclenched teeth.

"Wood, hear," George says. Wood runs over to me and supports me as the twins rush over to stop the raging bludger.

"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn'thelp grinning even though his Seeker and Chaser were injured. "Great capture,Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, Id say -"

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-greensleeves.

"No - don't -" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wandand a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

He hadshut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fearswere realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creeveybegan clicking away madly. His arm didn't hurt anymore - nor did itfeel remotely like an arm."Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear inmind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley,Miss Granger, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will beable to - er - tidy you up a bit."

As Harry got to his feet, he felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deepbreath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made himpass out again.Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-colored rubber glove. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing happened.

Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

Me and Harry are laying in the hospital wing with the team and others Griffindors huddled around us.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been aworking arm. "I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back -"

"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfreygrimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay thenight ...... your sister will too. I'll start on her leg after you drink this."

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron calledthrough the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff."If Harry had wanted to debone he would have asked."

I blocked out the argument as the team looked over at me. 

"At least we won," I sigh. The team mutters in agreement.

"Party has been moved to tomorrow night so that our two-star players can still make it," Wood says as he ruffles my hair.

MadamPomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steamingbeakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business.

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as itwent down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting aboutdangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help Harry gulp down somewater.

"Alright then! Out!" Madam Pomprey screeches. The team leaves so it's just me and Harry in the wing.

~

I stir in my sleep, I hear voices and as I open my eyes and sit up, I see Dobby, sitting on Harry's bed, talking to him.

"Dobby?"

The elf looks over at me guilty and then back to Harry.

"It was you!" he said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting usthrough!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, earsflapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed thegateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" - he showedHarry ten long, bandaged fingers - "but Dobby didn't care, sir, for hethought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that HarryPotter would get to school another way!"

He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head."Dobby was 'so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back atHogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobbynever had, sir. ....."

"You nearly got Ron and me expelled," he said fiercely. "You'd betterget lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you."

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a dayat home."

I look at Harry in confusion as the elf blows his nose on his clothing that looks exactly like a towel.

"Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" I ask curiously and am slightly disgusted.

"This?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of thehouse-elf's enslavement. Dobby can only be freed if his masterspresent him with clothes. The family is careful not to pass Dobbyeven a sock, for then he would be free to leave their houseforever."

"Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry and Jordan Potter mustgo home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make -"

"What?" Harry yells.

"Your bludger?" I yell angrily. "What d'youmean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me and Harry?"

"Not kill you, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wantsto save Harry and Jordan Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, thanremain here! Dobby only wanted Harry and Jordan Potter hurt enough to besent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "I don't suppose you're going totell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears drippingonto his ragged pillowcase. "If they knew what they mean to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world!Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Namedwas at the height of his powers! We house elves were treated likevermin! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that," he admitted,drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, life has improvedfor my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.Harry and Jordan survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and itwas a new dawn, and Harry and Jordan Potter shone like a beacon of hopefor those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sit... Andnow, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happeningalready, and Dobby cannot let Harry and Jordan Potter stay here now that historyis to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more...."

"So it's true? The Chamber of secrets is real?" I ask the elf.

"And what do you mean 'open once more?'" Harry asks, reading my very thoughts.

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. Asecond later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering,"Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby. . ."

"Dobby tell us!" Harry says. He seizes the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward thewater jug. "But we're not Muggle-born - how can we be in danger from theChamber?"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf,his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, butHarry and Jordan must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry and Jordan Potter, go home. Harry and Jordan must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis toodangerous -"

"Who is it Dobby?" I demand.

"Dobby can't, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf."Go home, Harry and Jordan Potter, go home!" 

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry fiercely. "One of my bestfriends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really hasbeen opened -" 

"Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby in akind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must savehimself, he must, Harry Potter must not -"

Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry and me heard it, too.There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside. 

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack,and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. 

I slump backinto bed, my eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as thefootsteps drew nearer.

The next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing along woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one endof what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared asecond later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and ProfessorMcGonagall hurried past the end of our beds out of sight. I layquite still, pretending to be asleep. I hear urgent voices, and thenProfessor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed byMadam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. I hear a sharp intake of breath.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore,bending over the statue on the bed.

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said ProfessorMcGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit the Potters."

My stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, I raised myself a few inches so I could look at the statue on the bed. A rayof moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuckup in front of him, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think ... If Albushadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knowswhat might have -"

The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leanedforward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" saidProfessor McGonagall eagerly.

Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Harry and me, three beds away,caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. 

"All melted...""What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall askedurgently. 

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeedopen again."Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagallstared at Dumbledore.

"But, Albus ... surely ... who?" 

"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin."The question is, how . . . ."And from what I could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.

After several more minutes, they left, leaving Harry and me in the room.

I turn over and look at Harry, eyes wide. He looks back at me in shock and confusion.

"Harry we have to tell somebody..."

"No, not yet, they may think we're the ones doing it."

"No students. I meant Dumbledore," I say.

Harry sighs and looks at the ceiling and I do the same.