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

Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have — but it’s a start, Harry, 
it’s a start.” 
He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, then, 
remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside. 
Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About 
twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his 
place between Ron and Hermione, she said, “We’ll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can 
tell me the properties of the Mandrake?” 
To nobody’s surprise, Hermione’s hand was first into the air. 
“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” said Hermione, sounding as usual as 
though she had swallowed the textbook. “It is used to return people who have been transfigured 
or cursed to their original state.” 
“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,” said Professor Sprout. “The Mandrake forms an essential 
part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?” 
Hermione’s hand narrowly missed Harry’s glasses as it shot up again. 
“The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” she said promptly. 
“Precisely. Take another ten points,” said Professor Sprout. “Now, the Mandrakes we have here 
are still very young.” 
She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. 
A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They 
looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn’t have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by 

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the “cry” of the Mandrake. 
“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” said Professor Sprout. 
There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn’t pink and fluffy. 
“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered,” said Professor 
Sprout. “When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right — earmuffs on.” 
Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put 
the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty 
plants firmly, and pulled hard. 
Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear. 
Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves 
were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at 
the top of his lungs. 
Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, 
burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout 
dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs. 
“As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won’t kill yet,” she said calmly as though 
she’d just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. “However, they will knock you out 
for several hours, and as I’m sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your 
earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to 
pack up. 
“Four to a tray — there is a large supply of pots here — compost in the sacks over there — and 
be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it’s teething.” 
She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers 
that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder. 
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew 
by sight but had never spoken to. 
“Justin Finch-Fletchley,” he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. “Know who you are, of 
course, the famous Harry Potter… And you’re Hermione Granger — always top in everything” 
(Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) “— and Ron Weasley. Wasn’t that your 
flying car?” 
Ron didn’t smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind. 
“That Lockhart’s something, isn’t he?” said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots 

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with dragon dung compost. “Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I’d have died of fear 
if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and — zap — just