CHAPTER FOURTEEN
room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sit-
ting alone, reading a book called Ancient Runes Made Easy.
Hermione looked aghast at the news.
“But — only a Gryffindor could have stolen — nobody else
knows our password —”
“Exactly,” said Harry.
They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing
breeze.
“Perfect Quidditch conditions!” said Wood enthusiastically at
the Gryffindor table, loading the team’s plates with scrambled eggs.
“Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast.”
Harry had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, won-
dering if the new owner of Riddle’s diary was right in front of his
eyes. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, but
Harry didn’t like the idea. He’d have to tell a teacher all about the
diary, and how many people knew why Hagrid had been expelled
fifty years ago? He didn’t want to be the one who brought it all up
again.
As he left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and col-
lect his Quidditch things, another very serious worry was added to
Harry’s growing list. He had just set foot on the marble staircase
when he heard it yet again —
“Kill this time . . . let me rip . . . tear . . .”
He shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away
from him in alarm.
“The voice!” said Harry, looking over his shoulder. “I just heard
it again — didn’t you?”
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