Amelia Potter and the Chamber of Secrets PART 1

92

'A Deathday Party?' said Hermione keenly, when Harry had changed at last and joined her and Ron in the common room. Amelia had been sitting in a chair near buy with Sharptooh on her shoulder. She was spending most of her free time with the Gryffindors after the whole broom incident. 'I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those – it'll be fascinating!'

'Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?' said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy. 'Sounds dead depressing to me ...'

Amelia giggled and tranlted the joke into Dragon for Sharptooh. 'Hermione, can you lend me that book about DeathDay Parties? I want to know what I am getting into.'

Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside, all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster Firework to a Salamander. Fred had 'rescued' the bril- liant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smouldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

Ron and Harry were shocked that Amelia hadn't gone off on them about animal abuse, but she quickly explained senses the fireworks where the water started the salamander would be fine.

Harry was on the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the Salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. Amelia ran after it and let the salamander rest in her hand. Harry had guessed that by Amelia's translation, the salamander had shouted AGAIN. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the Salamander's mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from Harry's mind.

*By the time Hallowe'en arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the Deathday Party. The rest of the school were happily anticipating their Hallowe'en feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in and there were rumours that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

'A promise is a promise,' Hermione reminded Harry bossily. 'You said you'd go to the Deathday Party.'

So, at seven o'clock, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead towards the dungeons.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles too, though the effect was far from cheer-