The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets

XVII

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Filch came barging through the corridor. I attempted to hide behind Harry, which didn't work because I was taller than him, and flinched as Filch let out an ear-splitting shriek.

"My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?" he screeched, and his bulging eyes fell on Harry, and then of course on me because I was directly behind him.

"You! You two... You've murdered my cat!" Filch howled, "you've killed her! I'll kill you!"

"Argus!" Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, tailed by a number of other teachers. In seconds Mrs Norris had been detached from the torch bracket. "Argus, come with me... and you, Potters, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Mr Spencer..."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly and I had an uncontrollable urge to roll my eyes. "My office is nearest, Headmaster, if you wish..."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore, and we were all numbly led down the corridor to Lockhart's classroom. Dumbledore laid Mrs Norris on the desk and began to examine her. Ron, Harry, Hermione, Will and I exchanged nervous glances and watched as the headmaster's long, crooked nose and half-moon glasses moved slowly along the cat's motionless body. Eventually, as Lockhart was launching an explanation of how Mrs Norris had died and how he remembered something very similar happening at some point in the past, Dumbledore stood. "She's not dead," he said firmly.

Lockhart's voice trailed off. Filch looked up and choked, "but - why's she all stiff, and..."

"She has, however," Dumbledore added, "been petrified. But how, I cannot say."

Filch's voice abruptly regained its conviction. "Ask them!" he shrieked.

"No second year student could have done this," Dumbledore said calmly. "It would take dark magic of the most advanced-"

"They did it, they did it!" Filch insisted. "And that one!" he pointed to Harry. "You saw what was written on the wall. He knows I'm a... a squib!"

"I don't think Harry knows what a squib is," I protested. "And neither do I!"

"I never touched Mrs Norris," Harry confirmed, his eyes sparking angrily.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape said icily, and my heart sank because Snape had never used an opportunity such as this to sing mine and Harry's praises and confirm our innocence. My sense of foreboding seemed to agree that this time, as well, would be no different.

"Potter and his friends may have merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time," Snape said, his upper lip curling into a sneer. I felt that the Potter he was mentioning was probably me as he hated me that little bit more. "But, I must say, we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. I do not, for example, recall seeing either Potter at the school feast."

The five of us launched into an immediate explanation. "We were at the Deathday Party..."

"We saw hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there..."

"But why not re-join the feast afterwards?" Snape demanded, his black eyes glittering with malice. "I didn't think that a party hosted by a ghost provided sufficient food for the living? Why go up onto this corridor?"

"We weren't hungry," Will said firmly, just as Ron's stomach gave a huge grumble.

A triumphant smile flashed across Snape's sallow features. "I would suggest, Headmaster, that your little gang of Gryffindors are not being entirely truthful. The Potters in particular... I might recommend them being deprived of certain privileges until they are ready to tell the whole story? I personally feel as if they should be taken off the school Quidditch team until they feel like being honest."

"Really, Severus," McGonagall said sharply. "I see no reason to stop the boys playing Quidditch. There is no evidence that either of them have done anything wrong."

Dumbledore gave Harry and I a searching look, then, seemingly satisfied, turned to Snape. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus."

Snape looked furious, as did Filch. "My cat has been petrified!" he shouted. "I want to see some punishment!"

"I can cure her, Mr Filch," Lockhart butted in suddenly. "If she's been petrified, I could whip up a mandrake restorative draught in my sleep..."

Again, there was that urge to roll my eyes, which this time I couldn't resist. Hermione gave me a severe look, just as Snape snapped icily, "excuse me, but I believe I am the Potions Master at this school."

There was a very awkward silence, during which I found it very hard not to suddenly laugh.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to us, eventually.

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Once back in Gryffindor tower, we assembled in the common room. Lee Jordan and two other fourth-years were persuaded, which is an understatement, by Hermione to vacate.

Harry's expression was fraught with anxiety. It wasn't often that I saw my brother like that. "D'you think we should tell Dumbledore about the voice?"

"No," Ron said, with sudden conviction. "Hearing voices isn't a good thing, even in the wizarding world. I promise you."

"Nothing that happens to us is ever good," I pointed out, wondering why my heart was still beating at a million miles an hour. It only sped up as Will put a hand on my arm as everyone else looked offended. "Sam's trying to hide the fact that he's scared. He doesn't mean it. No, Harry, I agree with Ron; it's not a good idea. Hermione, do you have any plans?"

"No," Hermione admitted. "We believe you of course, but, Harry, you have to admit that this is a bit odd."

"I know it's weird," Harry said. "The whole thing's weird. What do you suppose the writing on the wall was about?"

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir beware," I mused. "I thought I read somewhere about something like a secret chamber..."

"You, reading?" Will said with a smirk. "You could never."

"No, Sam's right," Hermione said. "It was in a book I've read. Probably Hogwarts: A History, I lent that to you once, didn't I?"

"Yup," I agreed. "It was definitely that one. It's one of the only books I've actually read properly."

"You mean you didn't read the school books thoroughly?" Hermione demanded severely.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Anyway," Harry said hurriedly, "what on earth's a Squib?"

Ron gave a chuckle. "Actually, that's quite funny. Kind of, anyway. A Squib is kind of the opposite of a muggleborn witch or wizard, but more unusual. It means he can't do any magic... explains why he hates the students so much, anyway." He smiled grimly. "He's bitter."

Somewhere in the castle, a clock chimed.

"Midnight," Harry said. "Come on, we've got to get to bed. Night, Hermione."

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said i'd get one out before christmas, but hope this is good enough. merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it and to those who don't, hope you're all well.

hope you enjoyed!

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