CHAPTER NINE
tone. “If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and head-
mistresses haven’t found the thing —”
“But, Professor,” piped up Parvati Patil, “you’d probably have to
use Dark Magic to open it —”
“Just because a wizard doesn’t use Dark Magic doesn’t mean he
can’t, Miss Pennyfeather,” snapped Professor Binns. “I repeat, if the
likes of Dumbledore —”
“But maybe you’ve got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumble-
dore couldn’t —” began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had
had enough.
“That will do,” he said sharply. “It is a myth! It does not exist!
There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much
as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story!
We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifi-
able fact!”
And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual
torpor.
“I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony,” Ron told
Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming
corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before
dinner. “But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I
wouldn’t be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting
Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I’d’ve got the train straight
back home. . . .”
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
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