Everlasting (H.P x fem.reader) YEARS 1-4

Year Two: Chapter Nine

3rd person POV 

"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. 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. 

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

"Argus!" 

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

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

Lockhart steppes 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 Snape and McGonagall. 

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Y/n saw several of the Lockhart's in the pictures dodge out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit a candle on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Y/n, 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 from 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 shadow, 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 could've 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 hand in his face. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself. If Dumbleodre believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure. 

Dumbeldore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, but nothing happened: she continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," said Lockhart, "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..." 

The photographs of Lockhart on the wall were nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net. Y/n wished that Lockhart could just be quiet for one minute. 

At last Dumbledore straightened up. 

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

Y/n and Harry shared a look of relief and Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.