Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets By J. K. Rowling chapter one the Worst Birthday

“Justin’s been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was 
Muggle-born…” 
Harry stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the 
torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose 
windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying 
on the floor. 
He turned to squint at what he’d fallen over and felt as though his stomach had dissolved. 
Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, 
his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn’t all. Next to him was another figure, the 
strangest sight Harry had ever seen. 
It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, 
floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face 
wore an expression of shock identical to Justin’s. 
Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his 
ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as 
fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers 
from the classes on either side. 
He could run, and no one would ever know he had been there. But he couldn’t just leave them 
lying here… He had to get help… Would anyone believe he hadn’t had anything to do with this? 
As he stood there, panicking, a door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist 
came shooting out. 
“Why, it’s potty wee Potter!” cackled Peeves, knocking Harry’s glasses askew as he bounced 

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past him. “What’s Potter up to? Why’s Potter lurking —” 
Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly 
Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry could stop him, 
screamed, “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! 
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!” 
Crash — crash — crash — door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. 
For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being 
squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Harry found himself pinned against 
the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her 
own class, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a 
loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had 
the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene. 
“Caught in the act!” Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry. 
“That will do, Macmillan!” said Professor McGonagall sharply. 
Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved 
chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke 
into song: 
“Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done, You’re killing off’ students, you think it’s good 
fun —” 
“That’s enough Peeves!” barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, 
with his tongue out at Harry. 
Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the 
Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the 
end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with 
instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a 
silent black hovercraft. This left Harry and Professor McGonagall alone together. 
“This way, Potter,” she said. 
“Professor,” said Harry at once, “I swear I didn’t —” 
“This is out of my hands, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall curtly. 
They marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly 
stone gargoyle. 
“Lemon drop!” she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly 
to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Even full of dread for what was 
coming, Harry couldn’t fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving 

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smoothly upward, like an escalator. As he and Professor McGonagall stepped onto it, Harry 
heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at 
last, slightly dizzy, Harry saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a 
griffin. 
He knew now where he was being taken. This must be where Dumbledore lived.