The bell rang.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten
days to finish it -"

"I only need another two inches, come on -"

The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic,
bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor
Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most
exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the
room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people
said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach
one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the
staff room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and
began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly
everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to
long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again.
He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened
that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull
lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss - er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything
about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open,
gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's
head came up off her arms and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped
off his desk.

Professor Binns blinked.