Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Johnny stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Johnny thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Johnny watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

Johnny was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

"Professor," Johnny gasped. "Your bird - I couldn't do anything - he just caught fire--"

To Johnny's astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.

"About time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."

He chuckled at the stunned look on Johnny's face.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Johnny. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..."

Johnny looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, Johnny had forgotten what he was there for, but it all came back to him as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Johnny with his penetrating, light-blue stare.

Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

"It wasn' Johnny, Professor Dumbledore!" said Hagrid urgently. "I was talkin'ter him seconds before that kid was found, he never had time, sir--"

Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

"it can't've bin him, I'll swear it in front o'the Ministry o'Magic if I have to."

"Hagrid, I--"

"- yeh've got the wrong boy, sir, I know Johnny never--"

"Hagrid!" said Dumbledore loudly. "I do not think that Johnny attacked those people."

"Oh thank fu-" Johnny trailed off.

"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster."

And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was me, Professor?" Johnny repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.

"No, Johnny, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you, and I'll talk to Harry later."

Johnny waited nervously while Dumbledore considered him, the tips of his long fingers together.

"I must ask you, Johnny, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."

Johnny didn't know what to say. He thought of Malfoy shouting, "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" and of the Polyjuice Potion simmering away in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice and remembered what Ron had said: "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world." He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his growing dread that Harry was somehow connected with Salazar Slytherin...

"No," said Johnny. "There isn't anything, Professor..."

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? People asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron told Johnny, Harry and Hermione. "Us, Malfoy, Cattleman, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. Cattleman was head over heals in love with Malfoy so she stayed. But Harry and Johnny was glad that most people were leaving. They were tired of people skirting around them in the corridors, as though they was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as they passed.

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry and Johnny down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heirs of Slytherin, seriously evil wizards coming through..."

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

"It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry and Johnny's in a hurry."

"Yeah, they're off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with their fanged servant," said George, chortling.

Ginny didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry and Johnny loudly who they were planning to attack next.

Harry and Johnny didn't mind; it made them feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of them being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's bursting to say it's really him," said Ron knowingly. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work."

"Not for long," said Hermione in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Johnny was aloud to sleep in the Gryffindor Tower again. Johnny found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Hermione, Harry and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private. Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Johnny, Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

"Hermione - you're not supposed to be in here -" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Johnny sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, kissing Johnny on the cheek and sitting next to him on Dean's bed. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak.

"Hello," said Harry happily as she landed on his bed. "Are you speaking to me again?"

She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too.

"Fuck em," Johnny said, eating a chocolate frog Ron had gotten him.

Johnny was over the moon with his Christmas presents. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Johnny decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron had given him a box filled with his duplicate Chocolate Frog cards and a few chocolates, Harry had gotten him a pair of black leather Chelsea boots he apparently bought months ago, and Hermione had bought him a luxurious eagle-feather quill. He received a rather strange looking triangular pendent off his grandfather, and a new Nimbus 2001 and a set of Chaser gloves off of his mother for when he returned to the Quidditch team. Johnny opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake.

No one, not even someone dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Johnny didn't even care that Malfoy was making loud, snide remark about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours'time.

Johnny, Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the hall to finalise their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Cattleman's, Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoys best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Cattleman, Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him.

"I've got it all worked out," she went on smoothly, ignoring Johnny's, Harry's and Ron's stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet. Johnny, you know what you're doing with Cattleman?"

"Yes."

Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.

"Hermione, I don't think--"

"That could go seriously wrong--"

But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had.

"Your potions will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," she said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

"Oh, all right, all right," said Harry. "But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"

"I've already got mine!" said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. "Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas - so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to Johnny and Harry with a doom-laden expression.

"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"

When the time come for Johnny to get Cattleman's hair, he was hid around the corner, and let out a sigh of relief when she walked straight past him, alone.

"Stupefy," Johnny whispered, watching as Cattleman smashed into an open broom cupboard, knocked out cold. Johnny collected the hair and obliviated her, then headed back to the toilet.

"Hermione?" Johnny called.

"Here," she said. Johnny followed her voice to see her standing near the back window, a cute smile on her face as she saw Johnny walk towards her. They held eye contact for a while, before Hermione glanced up. Johnny followed her movements, his eyes widening when he saw the plant growing above him. He glanced back to Hermione to see her blushing madly.

"Mistletoe," Hermione whispered, raising her hand to rest on Johnny's cheek. Johnny moved closer, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist.

"Kiss me," Hermione whispered, her lips ghosting over Johnny's. Johnny nodded, leaning forward that extra inch. Hermione's arms wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling Johnny closer.

"Well, well, well," they heard a voice say. The two jumped a mile in the air, out of breath and red in the face as Harry and Ron stood with shit eating grins on their faces.

"Hermione must be a good kisser," Ron said, nudging Harry. "Johnny's friend is saying hi."

"I hate you," Johnny said, blushing even redder as he covered his area.

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Harry showed her Goyle's hair.

"Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry," Hermione said, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle, and Johnny will need Cattleman's sizes as she wears blouses abs skirts."

"God I hate this," Johnny groaned.

The four of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. "It looks like the book says it should... once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Ron whispered.

"We separate it into four glasses and add the hairs."

Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass.

The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.

"Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours, then," said Hermione.

Johnny put Cattleman's hair into the end glass, Harry dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one. The glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown, Cattleman's turned into the colour of blue cheese.

"Hang on," said Harry as Johnny, Ron and Hermione reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here... Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit, Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie, and I'd rather not see Cattleman naked."

"Well I don't want to either but here we are," Johnny said sarcastically. "How the fuck do I even put a bra on?"

"It's easy," Hermione said. "We'll take separate stalls."

Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Johnny slipped into the middle stall.

"Ready?" he called.

"Ready," came Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's voices.

"One - two - three--"

Pinching his nose, Johnny drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.

Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he'd just swallowed live snakes - doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to be sick - then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes - next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax - and before his eyes, his hands began to shrink, the fingers thinned, the nails turned red to match the nail varnish - his shoulders shrunk painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down toward his eyebrows - his robes ripped as his new breasts expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops - his feet were agony in shoes six sizes too small.

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Johnny lay facedown on the stone-cold floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Stephanie Cattleman. His small hands trembling, he pulled off his old robes, which were sagging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones, and laced up Cattleman's two inch healed shoes. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only shoulder length brunette hair.

"Are you okay?" Cattleman's higher pitched voice issued from his mouth.

"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right.

Johnny unlocked his door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Cattleman stared back at him out of deep, brown  eyes. Johnny scratched his ear. So did Cattleman.

Harry and Ron's door opened. They all stared at each other.

"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. "Unbelievable."

"We'd better get going," said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist.

"Come on, I'll show you the common room," said Johnny, not used to the voice. He banged on Hermione's door. "C'mon, we need to go--"

A high-pitched voice answered him.

"I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Mione', we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you--"

"No - really - I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time--"

Harry looked at Johnny and Ron, bewildered.

"That looks more like Goyle," said Ron. "That's how he looks every time a teacher asks him a question."

"Hermione, are you okay?" said Harry through the door.

"Fine - I'm fine - go on--"

Johnny looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed. "We'll meet you back here, all right?" he said.

Johnny, Harry and Ron opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off.

"Why couldn't I just be myself?" Johnny groaned, strutting like Cattleman does.

"Don't swing your arms like that," Johnny muttered to Ron.

"Eh?"

"Crabbe holds them sort of stiff..."

"How's this?"

"Yeah, that's better..."

They went down the marble staircase.

Johnny, Harry and Ron hurried down the stone steps into the dark dungeons, Harry and Ron's footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Crabbe's and Goyle's huge feet hit the floor.

Their figure was emerging from a side room. It was Percy.

"What're you doing down here?" said Johnny, crossing his arms and talking snobbishly like Cattleman.

Percy looked affronted.

"That," he said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Cattleman, isn't it?"

"That's right, Weasley, and you'll be good to remember it," said Johnny.

"Well, get off to your dormitories," said Percy sternly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."

"You are," Ron pointed out.

"I," said Percy, drawing himself up, "am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."

A voice suddenly echoed behind Johnny, Harry and Ron. Malfoy was strolling toward them.

"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny."

Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy.

"And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" he sneered.

Percy looked outraged.

"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude!"

Malfoy sneered and motioned for Johnny, Harry and Ron to follow him. Johnny hid his uncomfortable look as Malfoy grabbed his hand, resisting the urge to gag. Harry and Ron hurried after Johnny and Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage, "That Peter Weasley--"

"Percy," Ron corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," said Malfoy. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed."

He gave a short, derisive laugh. Johnny, Harry and Ron exchanged excited looks.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Oh, yeah - pure-blood!" said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, pulling Johnny by the band, and Harry and Ron followed him.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Wait here," said Malfoy to Johnny, Harry and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it my father's just sent it to me--"

Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Harry and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home. Johnny didn't need to act like he was at home. He was quite popular in here after his first Quidditch match, the on,y people that didn't like him was Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Yes, he found Stephanie annoying, but they were good friends and worked well together when they partnered up.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Harry and Johnny saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Johnny.

It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet , and it said:

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Johnny handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

Thinking what Cattleman would say in this situation, he said quickly, "not really Draco, the man could lose his dream job."

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully, ignoring Johnny. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Ron's - or rather, Crabbe's - face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

"Stomachache," Ron grunted.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin: "'Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?"

He dropped his hands and looked at Johnny, Harry and Ron.

"What's the matter with you three?"

Far too late, Johnny, Harry and Ron forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied.

"Grindelwald, the Mudbloods' boyfriend," said Malfoy slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood, what's worse that Grindelwald's a Slytherin, and people think he's Slytherin's heir!"

Johnny, Harry and Ron waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him - but then "I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."

Ron's jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice, and Harry, thinking fast, said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all..."

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time... I hope it's Granger," he said with relish.

Johnny was clenching Cattleman's small fists. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Johnny punched Malfoy, Harry and Ron shot him a warning look and Harry said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah... whoever it was was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Harry, puzzled.

"Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle," said Malfoy, looking at him in disbelief, "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

"Yeah..." said Malfoy. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor--"

"Ho!" said Ron.

Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry and Johnny. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening - their hour was up, Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Harry and 'Johnny, they must be, too.

They jumped to their feet.

"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted, and without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Johnny groaned in pain as his feet grew in Cattleman's shoes and the robes grew smaller as he grew; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the closet where they'd locked Crabbe and Goyle. Leaving theuir shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys'drawing room."

Johnny checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal and he hammered on the door of Hermione's stall.

"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you--"

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

Johnny, Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Ron. "You must be back to normal by now, we are."

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Johnny had never seen her looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful--"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Ron uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink.

Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"Uh-oh," said Ron.

"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Johnny quickly, rushing to hug her. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions..."

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"