The Son of Mystery - Harry Potter Male Insert

What's the Chamber?

"My cat, my cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" He shrieked.

His eyes then landed on Harry.

"You!" he screeched, "you! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived, accompanied by a several amount of teachers. In mere moments, Dumbledore had swept past the quartet and unhooked Mrs. Norris.

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

"Why is is always us?" Y/N whispered to Harry, who shrugged.

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly

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

"Thank you Gilderoy" said Dumbledore.

The crown moved as Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Filch, Lockhart and the quartet made their way to the closest office.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her" began Lockhart as they stepped into his office, "Probably Transmogrifan Torture. I've seen it so many times, unfortunate I wasn't there! I know the very counter-curse that could have saved her!"

"Of course Professor, because Second-Years can definitely perform the Transmogrifan Curse" Y/N said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

"Now that's not-" began Lockhart, but stopped when he heard Ron and Harry's snickers of laughter.

Filch was wailing loudly, Dumbledore was muttering under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, but nothing happened., she continued to loo as though she had recently been stuffed.

"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou" started Lockhart, again trying to draw attention to himself, "a series of attacks, the full story is in my autobiography. I was able to provide various townsfolk with amulets which cleared up the matter at once..."

The many photographs of Lockhart that lined the walls were nodding in agreement with him. One of them had forgotten to remove his hairnet.

Finally, Dumbledore stood straight up.

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

Ron whispered to Hermione, "Still think Lockhart's as good as he says he is?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, very clearly unhappy.

Lockhart had stopped abruptly in the middle of recounting his tale of the murders that he had prevented.

"Not dead?" Filch choked, looking through his fingers as Mrs. Norris, "then why is she all- stiff and frozen?"

"She has been petrified" said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart).

"But how I cannot say".

"Ask him!" Shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tear-stained face towards Harry.

"As Mr. Lynx pointed out earlier, no Second-Year could have accomplished such a feat." said Dumbledore, firmly. "It would take dark magic of the most advanced-"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his face purpling, "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found- in my office- He knows I'm a Squib!"

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" said Harry, loudly, "and don't even know what a Squib is!"

"Why would someone like Harry even care if you were a Squib?" asked Y/N, staring daggers into Filch, who went silent almost instantly. Evidentially, he was just as scared of him as McGonagall was last year, if not worse.