𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍, george weasley

011

ELEVEN

The mood in the castle shifted the day it happened. What had started as a normal, bustling morning quickly turned into something far darker by nightfall. Victoria had no idea that the eerie events were just beginning. 

Breakfast was as loud and chaotic as usual at the Gryffindor table. Fred was trying to levitate a piece of toast into George's mouth, much to Victoria's amusement. 

"Open wider, mate," Fred said, his wand poised. 

"If you hit me in the eye again, I'm hexing you," George warned. 

"Honestly," Victoria said, shaking her head. "You two should consider taking your circus act on the road." 

"Not a bad idea," George said, catching the toast in his mouth and grinning triumphantly. 

"Brilliant!" Fred said. "We'll call it Fred and George's Fabulous Flying Food Show." 

Before Victoria could respond, Hermione bustled over, a stack of books in her arms. 

"Have you seen Harry?" she asked, glancing around. 

"He's at the end of the table," Victoria said, pointing. 

Hermione nodded and hurried away, and Victoria turned her attention back to her friends. "What are we betting on now?" she asked, noticing a gleam in George's eye. 

"How many times Lockhart mentions himself in Defense Against the Dark Arts today," he replied. 

"Five Sickles says it's over ten," Fred said confidently. 

"I'll take that bet," Victoria said.

The day passed without incident until late that afternoon when the entire castle was summoned to the second-floor corridor by a frantic Filch. 

Victoria arrived with the twins, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. A crowd had already gathered, murmuring in confusion. At the center of the commotion, on a wall near a torch, glistened large, wet, red letters: 

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir,
beware.

Victoria's breath caught in her throat. "What does that mean?" she whispered. 

"Nothing good," George replied grimly. 

The air was heavy with unease as whispers spread through the crowd. Then, someone pointed toward the floor, and Victoria's heart sank. There lay Mrs. Norris, Filch's beloved cat, stiff as a board with her eyes wide and glassy. 

"Petrified," Hermione said quietly. "She's not dead." 

"Looks dead to me," Ron muttered, earning a sharp glare from Hermione. 

Filch was beside himself, his face red and contorted with rage. "Who did this?" he bellowed, glaring at the students. "Who attacked my cat?" 

"I think we should leave," Fred murmured to Victoria. 

"Good idea," she replied. 

Before they could move, Professor Dumbledore arrived, flanked by Professors McGonagall and Snape. The crowd parted as he stepped forward, his expression unreadable. 

"Everyone, return to your dormitories," McGonagall commanded, her tone sharp. 

"But what about—" a student began, pointing at the writing. 

"That will be handled," McGonagall said firmly. 

Victoria hesitated, her eyes lingering on the ominous message. George tugged her arm gently. "Come on, Tori. Nothing we can do here." 

Reluctantly, she followed him and the rest of the Gryffindors back to the common room, the unsettling image burned into her mind.

By the time they reached the Gryffindor Tower, the atmosphere was tense. Groups of students huddled together, whispering nervously. 

"What do you think it means?" Angelina asked as the group settled into their usual spot by the fire. 

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron said. "Someone's opened this 'Chamber of Secrets' thing. Probably Malfoy." 

Hermione frowned. "There's no proof of that." 

"Who else would want to attack a cat?" Ron argued. "He's always going on about 'Mudbloods' and how they don't belong here." 

Victoria flinched at the word, and George noticed, giving her a reassuring nudge. 

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Victoria said. "We don't know anything for sure." 

Fred leaned back in his chair, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Whatever it is, it's bad news. Mum's going to have a fit when she hears about this." 

"Do you think Dumbledore knows who did it?" Lee asked. 

"If he does, he's not saying," Hermione said. 

Victoria stared into the fire, her mind racing. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much larger. 

⠀:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀
⠀ '· . ୨୧⠀

The castle was buzzing with rumors the next day. Everywhere Victoria went, students were speculating about the Chamber of Secrets, Mrs. Norris, and what—or who—might be responsible. 

At breakfast, a group of Ravenclaws was talking loudly about an ancient legend. 

"They say it's a monster," one boy said. "Something only the Heir of Slytherin can control." 

"What kind of monster?" his friend asked, her eyes wide. 

"Don't know," he admitted, "but it's supposed to be deadly." 

Victoria turned back to her own table, where Fred and George were trying to lighten the mood with a round of magical charades. 

"Guess what I am," Fred said, striking a ridiculous pose. 

"An idiot?" Victoria suggested, earning a laugh from the group. 

"Close," George said. "He's a bowtruckle." 

Despite their efforts, the tension in the air was palpable. Victoria couldn't stop thinking about the writing on the wall. 

"Do you think the Heir of Slytherin is real?" she asked Hermione quietly. 

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "But if it is, we need to figure out who it is—and fast."