Malfoy

The Writing On The Wall

"What's going on here? What's going on?" The shouts of Filch came as he pushed his way through the students.

When he saw Mrs Norris he fell backward grabbing his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What happened to Mrs Norris?" He shrieked in horror.

His eyes fell on Harry who was closest.

"You!" He screeched pointing to Harry. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!" Filch was interrupted by Dumbledore who'd shown up followed by the rest of the teachers. He walked past us and took Mrs Norris off of her hanging bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," Dumbledore told Filch. "You too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Malfoy."

Lockhart stepped forward, looking a little too eager. "My office is nearest, Headmaster-just upstairs-please feel free-"

"Thank you Gilderoy," Dumbledore nodded.

The crowd of students parted to let us pass, Dumbledore led followed by an excited-looking Lockhart, with the other teachers and the four of us behind him.

Once we got to Lockhart's office he lit some candles to illuminate the darkness and I looked around at the walls lined with paintings of Lockhart that had run off to avoid being seen.

Dumbledore laid Mrs Norris out on Lockhart's desk examining her, as Harry, Hermione, Ron and I sank into some chairs nervously.

Dumbledore closely studied Mrs Norris, his nose almost touching her fur as he poked her frozen body. The other teachers were looking closely as well.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her-probably the Transmorgifian Torture. I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter-curse that would've saved her..." Lockhart told them walking around the other teachers trying to get a better look at Mrs Norris.

The end of his speech was cut off by Filch's loud sobs, I felt sorry for him, I just hoped I wouldn't have to feel sorry for us too if Dumbledore believed him and we got expelled.

Dumbledore muttered words and tapped Mrs Norris with his wand, but it made no difference.

"...I remember something similar happening in Ouagadougou," Lockhart continued even though no one was listening to him. "A series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once..."

Finally, Dumbledore straightened up at looked at Filch.

"She's not dead, Argus," He told him softly.

Lockhart stopped, he'd been counting the number of murders he'd 'prevented.'

"Not dead?" Filch repeated as he looked through his fingers, his hands still covering his face. "But why's she all-all stiff and frozen."

"She's been petrified," Dumbledore told him.

"Ah! I thought so!" Lockhart interrupted even though he'd been going on about how she'd been killed for the past two minutes.

"But how, I cannot say..." Dumbledore continued ignoring Lockhart.

"Ask him!" Filch cried turning to face Harry.

"No second-year could have done this," Dumbledore replied firmly. "It would take Dark magic of the most advanced-"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat like a child. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found-in my office-he knows I'm a-I'm a-he knows I'm a squib."