𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞¹⁻⁷ [HARRY POTTER X Y/N]

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇: 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅

"because she's my best friend"

𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙖𝙡𝙡 | 𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖭
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Malfoy's gang piled up on the five students.

"Ask, Sinclair, why don't you?" said Theodore Nott, pointing at her stomach. "She's covered in blood!"

"Or Potter," said pug-faced, Pansy Parkinson. "I saw him there before anyone else!"

"You're all lying," said Riddle, trying to cover Y/n behind him. He was quite tall.

But it was too late. Filch saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. "Now you've done it!" he screeched at Harry and Y/n. "You two! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll —"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Y/n, Ron, Hermione, and Riddle and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger — Mr. Riddle, please take Miss Sinclair to Madam Pomfrey."

Riddle nodded and left with Y/n, pushing through the crowd of spectators. Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

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

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

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 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. 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.