𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐 & 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙎𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨

    "WHAT'S GOING ON HERE? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Blythe's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

    A still silence fell on all students of each House, looking at the group of friends, who were standing separately from another corridor. Geri Creevey lifted up her camera but Chan pushed it back down.

    "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" Filch shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Beomgyu. "You!" he screeched. "You—! 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 the group and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

    "Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "All of you as well." Speaking to the big group of friends, who still had their stomachs lurching at the escalating situation (Arlo held tight to the end of Jake's sleeve before he grabbed her hand hand and squeezed it).

    Lockhart stepped 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 McGonagall and Snape.

    As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; the friends 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 lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. The guys 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. 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 would have 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 face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Beomgyu couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself. If Dumbledore believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure.

    Dumbledore 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 Ouagadogou," 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 walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.

    At last Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

    Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

    "Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all stiff and frozen?"