The question wasn't who, but how?

Harry was woken by the voice in his head and the pain in his arm.

It felt as though someone had stuffed thousands of razor-sharp blades into his arm muscles. As the fragments of bone grew, they inevitably sliced through his flesh.

Now the pain Lockhart had taken away had returned with a vengeance!

But he was more concerned about the voice echoing endlessly in his head-so much time had passed that he had almost forgotten about it-and the monster wiping his forehead with a sponge.

"Go away!" He waved his hand in alarm, but soon recognized the monster-Dobby.

The house-elf who had gotten him a warning from the Ministry of Magic.

"Dobby warned Harry Potter again and again. Oh, sir, why wouldn't you listen to Dobby's warnings? When Harry Potter missed the train, why didn't he go home?" Dobby said mournfully.

Now Harry knew who had been trying to hurt him-

"You did it? You sealed the barrier so we couldn't get through! You nearly got Ron and me expelled!" he said angrily. "You'd better get out of here before my bones grow back, Dobby, or I'll strangle you."

"Dobby is used to death threats. Dobby hears them five times a day at home," Dobby said unconcernedly. Yet he looked so pathetic that much of Harry's anger faded at once.

"Why are you wearing that thing, Dobby?" He looked at Dobby's "clothes"-or rather, a pillowcase that looked as though it hadn't been washed in decades and was dirtier than a rag.

"This, sir?" Dobby tugged at the pillowcase. "This is the symbol of a house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his master gives him clothes. The family are very careful not to give Dobby even a pair of socks, sir, because then Dobby would be free and would leave their house forever."

Harry immediately felt a surge of sympathy, but it vanished a moment later.

"Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would surely-"

"Your Bludger? What do you mean, your Bludger? You were the one who made that Bludger try to kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, certainly not kill you!" Dobby said in horror. "Dobby wanted to save Harry Potter's life! Better to be badly injured and sent home than to stay here, sir. Dobby only wanted Harry Potter to be hurt a little and then sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" Harry asked, furious and sarcastic. "I suppose you're not going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces, are you?"

"Oh, if only Harry Potter knew what he means to us humble, enslaved little folk in the wizarding world! Dobby has not forgotten what it was like when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power, sir! House-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated that way, sir," he admitted, wiping his face on his pillowcase again.

"But on the whole, life has improved greatly for our kind since you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken. It was a new beginning, sir. To those of us who thought the dark days would never end, Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope, sir... And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are about to happen. Perhaps they have happened already. Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here, because history is about to repeat itself. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened again-"

"So there really is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked quietly. "And-you said it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!"

"Oh,

sir, ask no more, don't press poor Dobby any further," the house-elf stammered, his eyes as wide as saucers in the darkness. "Someone here is plotting, and Harry Potter must not be here when it happens. Go home, Harry Potter. Go home. Harry Potter must not get involved in this, sir. It is too dangerous-" "Who is it, Dobby? Who opened the Chamber of Secrets? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby cannot say, sir, Dobby cannot say, Dobby must never say!" the house-elf shrieked. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Harry said irritably. "One of my best friends is Muggle-born. If the Chamber of Secrets really has been opened, she'll be first in danger-"

"Harry Potter would risk his life for his friends!" Dobby moaned, both sorrowful and delighted. "How noble! How brave! But he must keep himself safe, he must. Harry Potter must not-"

Dobby suddenly froze, his batlike ears trembling. Harry heard it too. Footsteps were coming from the corridor outside.

"Dobby must go!" the terrified house-elf gasped. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist suddenly closed on nothing but air. He fell back onto the bed, watching the dark doorway of the ward as the footsteps drew closer.

Then Dumbledore backed into the ward. He was wearing a long woolen dressing gown and a nightcap. In both hands, he held one end of something that looked like a statue. A second later, Professor McGonagall appeared, carrying its feet. Together, they laid it on a bed.

"Fetch Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said softly. Professor McGonagall hurried past the head of Harry's bed and went out. Harry lay perfectly still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, then Professor McGonagall hurried back in, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who had pulled a jacket over her nightdress. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked Dumbledore quietly, bending over to examine the statue.

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

"There was a bunch of grapes beside him," Professor McGonagall said. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."

Harry's stomach gave a violent lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could see the statue on the bed. A shaft of moonlight fell across its stunned face.

It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide open, his hands held out in front of his chest, clutching his camera.

"Petrified?" Madam Pomfrey asked quietly.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said. "I shudder to think... If Albus hadn't happened to come downstairs for hot chocolate, who knows what might have happened..."

All three stared intently at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and took the camera from Colin's rigid fingers.

"Could he have taken a photograph of his attacker?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

Dumbledore did not answer. He pried open the back of the camera.

"Good heavens!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.

A jet of hot vapor hissed out of the camera. Even three beds away, Harry could smell the acrid stench of burning plastic.

"Melted," Madam Pomfrey said in astonishment. "It's all melted..."

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall pressed urgently.

"It means," Dumbledore said, "that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again."

Madam Pomfrey covered her mouth with her hand. Professor McGonagall stared blankly at Dumbledore.

"But Albus... surely you know... who?"

"The question isn't who," Dumbledore said, his gaze resting on Colin. "The question is how..."

Harry could see Professor McGonagall's expression in the shadows and knew that, like him, she had not understood what Dumbledore meant.