𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 2, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 9: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓵

~ chapter nine: the writing on the wall ~

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowds then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry and Y/N.

"You!" he shrieked. "You! One of you've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

"It wasn't us!" Y/N shouted back. "Even though I would've when given the chance, it wasn't me this time! Or Harry!"

"Rubbish!" Filch snarled.

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past the four and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.'

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Black, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry and Y/N saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Y/N, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadows wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifian Torture—I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her—"

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, but not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself and Y/N. He and Y/N were already on the brink of getting expelled; if Dumbledore believed Filch, they'd be expelled for sure.

"Then do it," Y/N said, narrowing her eyes at Lockhart.

"W-whatever do you mean, my dear girl?"

"Perform the countercurse for—what was it?—the Transmogrifian Torture, wasn't it?"

Lockhart chuckled nervously, but was spared the humiliation when at last Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all—all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart, and Y/N rolled her eyes). "But how, I cannot say...."