CORNELIUS FUDGE
“We’ve got to go and talk to him,” said Harry, making up his
mind. “I can’t believe it’s him this time, but if he set the monster
loose last time he’ll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets,
and that’s a start.”
“But McGonagall said we’ve got to stay in our tower unless we’re
in class —”
“I think,” said Harry, more quietly still, “it’s time to get my dad’s
old cloak out again.”
Harry had inherited just one thing from his father: a long and sil-
very Invisibility Cloak. It was their only chance of sneaking out of
the school to visit Hagrid without anyone knowing about it. They
went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean, and Sea-
mus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally
fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again, and threw the cloak over
themselves.
The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors
wasn’t enjoyable. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night sev-
eral times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teach-
ers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs,
staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak
didn’t stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly
tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot
where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at
almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they
reached the oak front doors and eased them open.
It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows
of Hagrid’s house and pulled off the cloak only when they were
right outside his front door.
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