Harry read the note again, his eyes moving slowly over every line. The parchment trembled slightly in his hands, though he wasn't sure whether it was because of his own shaking or because Ron was standing so close beside him. Ginny's final words seemed to burn into his mind.
Please ... Help ME.
Harry looked up at Ron. His friend was staring at him, his face pale and his eyes still red from crying.
"She knew," Ron said, very quietly. "She knew something was wrong with her, and she gave me this, and I just . . ." His voice cracked. "I put it in my pocket and forgot about it like it was homework. She's been down there for hours, Harry. Because I couldn't be bothered to..."
"Stop." Harry gripped Ron's shoulder, harder than he meant to. "This isn't your fault. You didn't know what was happening to her."
"But I should've. . . "
"You couldn't have known," Harry said firmly. "And Ginny could still be alive. We have to believe that."
Harry eyed the note as he tried to find something he might have missed.
"The Diary," Harry whispered, the truth slamming into him with brutal clarity. "Tom Riddle's diary. The one that was nicked from my dormitory… Ginny had it before me. She's the one who threw it into Myrtle's bathroom."
Ron stared at him.
"And the entrance to the Chamber is in there as well, of course," Harry continued, his thoughts racing.
"Myrtle was the student who died fifty years ago. We didn't realise the connection. And the different language needed to open the Chamber must be Parseltongue. It has to be. The monster must be some kind of snake. That's why I've been hearing its voice all year; because none of you can understand it."
"We have to go and save Ginny," Harry said, looking at Ron. "If she's really down there, we can't just sit here and wait for morning."
Ron nodded, but he still looked uncertain. He glanced towards the dormitory door and then back at Harry. "Do you think we should go alone, or should we tell one of the teachers?"
Harry hesitated. The thought of going into the Chamber again without anyone knowing made his stomach tighten.
Last year, he, Ron and Hermione had gone alone to save the philosopher's stone, and they had nearly died for it. There was no reason to pretend they were suddenly capable of handling whatever was waiting for them beneath Hogwarts.
And something else was bothering him. Everything about the situation felt strange: the way Ron had completely forgotten about the note and only remembered it now, and the fact that the note contained almost every answer they needed to find the Chamber.
It all felt too coincidental, too convenient, and something about it didn't sit right with Harry.
"We should get someone to help us," Harry said. "Last year we went in there alone, and we nearly died. And this time there is a monster down there as well, and we don't even know what it is. That's not something we can handle by ourselves."
Ron nodded slowly.
"Besides," Harry continued, "a teacher would be able to help us. We don't know what else might be down there, and if Ginny's still alive, we'll need someone who actually knows what they're doing."
He thought of McGonagall, already preparing to send everyone home. He could imagine exactly what she would say if they told her they had discovered the entrance to the Chamber.
She would never allow them to go down there, and Harry couldn't blame her, but she would be able to help Ginny much more than they could.
"We should go to Professor McGonagall," Harry said after thinking about it.
Ron nodded.
Harry folded Ginny's note and slipped it into his pocket before looking around the dormitory to see everyone else still asleep. He then pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside his trunk and draped it over himself and Ron.
Harry and Ron slipped through the portrait hole and into the corridor, keeping close together beneath the Invisibility Cloak. The castle felt strangely quiet, and the corridors were completely deserted.
They moved quickly towards McGonagall's office, careful to keep their footsteps as quiet as possible. Harry kept one hand on the Cloak to make sure it stayed over both of them while Ron followed closely behind.
When they finally reached the door, Harry stopped. He knocked urgently. There was no answer.
He glanced at Ron before slowly reaching for the handle. The door opened without resistance, and Harry pushed it just far enough for them to slip inside.
The office was empty.
Harry stared at the vacant chair behind McGonagall's desk, his stomach tightening.
"She's not here," Ron whispered.
Harry stepped further into the room and looked around, but the professor was nowhere to be seen.
Ron's breathing had gone shallow and quick beside him. "Harry, we don't have time to go looking for her all over the castle. Every minute . . ."
"I know." Harry was already moving, mind racing through the list of who else might still be up, might still be reachable, might still believe them without an hour of explanation first. "Snape's rooms are all the way down in the dungeons. I don't know where Professor Flitwick's office is." He stopped. "Lockhart's office is close."
Ron made a face. "Lockhart's useless."
"He's still a Professor," Harry said. "If nothing else, he should know where the other Professors are."
They found Lockhart's office door ajar, lamplight spilling out into the corridor. Harry pushed it open slowly, cloak still draped over them both, and stopped dead in the doorway.
Lockhart was hurling belongings into an open trunk with both hands, robes, potion bottles, and even an entire shelf of his own framed photographs all thrown inside without a second glance.
He was sweating heavily, his hands shaking as he desperately tried to pack everything he could before anyone came looking for him. A pair of matching leather cases stood by the door, already packed and buckled.
"I have to get out of here! I have to get out of here before they find me!" Lockhart babbled, frantically stuffing another robe into the trunk. "They're telling me to deal with the monster! Me! Why should I have to deal with it? Why don't they do it themselves?"
He stopped for a moment, breathing heavily, then looked towards the door as though expecting someone to burst through it at any second.
"Cowards! All of them! Complete cowards!" he muttered, his voice rising with panic. "They expect me to walk into that Chamber and face some horrible monster? Absolutely not! No, no, no. I'm leaving. I'll be gone before sunrise."
He hurriedly snapped the trunk shut, nearly catching his fingers in the process.
"I have far too much to live for," he whispered, glancing nervously at the door again. "Far too much. My career, my reputation, my face... I can't risk any of it!"
Ron's mouth had fallen open beneath the Cloak. Harry felt something cold and furious settle low in his stomach, pushing aside whatever fear had been there a moment before.
"He's running," Ron whispered, his voice filled with disbelief and outrage. "He's actually running."
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