Rory Potter, the Girl Who Lived

The Writing on the Wall

          "What's going in here?! What's going on!?"
          Filch the caretaker shoulders his way through the crowd, no doubt attracted by Malfoy's shout. Then he sees Mrs Norris and falls back, clutching his face in horror.
          "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?!" he shrieks.
          Then his popping eyes fall on Harry and I.
          "You!" he screeches, his face twisting in anger. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I - I'll kill you! I'll - "
          "Argus!"
          Dumbledore has arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he sweeps past Harry, Ron, Hermione and I and detaches Mrs Norris from the torch bracket. I avert my eyes from her twisted, stiff body.
          "Come with me, Argus," he says to Filch. "You too, Mr Potter, Miss Potter, Mr Weasley, and Miss Granger."
          Lockhart steps forward eagerly.
          "My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please, feel free - "
          "Thank you, Gilderoy," says Dumbledore.
          The silent crowd parts to let us pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurries after Dumbledore, so do Professors Snape and McGonagall.
          As we enter Lockhart's darkened office, there is a flurry of movement on the walls; I notice several of the Lockharts in the paintings dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lights the candles on his desk and stands back. Dumbledore lies Mrs Norris on the polished surface and begins to examine her. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I give each other worried looks, talking fast using my necklace's power inside our heads.
          'Surely we won't get blamed, will we?' Hermione frets.
          'Filch and Snape'll try to frame us!' Ron adds.
          'We'll tell them we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time!' I suggest, which is entirely true.
          'Dumbledore and McGonagall will be fair.' Harry adds.
          'Why is it always us?' Hermione groans.
          "She's not dead, Argue," Dumbledore says suddenly, straightening up. We jump at the sudden remark. "She has merely been Petrified, but how, I cannot say . . ."
          "I knew it!" Lockhart exclaims. "Pity. If I'd been there, I'd've known just the countercurse to save her."
          "Ask the Potter twins!" Filch screams, leaping from his seat. "They did it!"
          "Argus, I assure you, this is much too powerful Dark Magic for a second year to perform. Dark Magic of the most advanced - "
          "They did it! They did it!" Filch spits, his face turning purple in rage. "You saw what they wrote on the wall! The boy - he found - in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a - " Filch's face works horribly. "He knows I'm a Squib! No doubt he told his wretched sister!"
          "I never touched Mrs Norris! Do you honestly think that I would hurt an animal?" I snap, but my chin starts to quiver. Even if Filch and his cat are horroble, Mrs Norris is still a pet. "I'm vegetarian. I'm overprotective of all animals. Even your lousy cat. She's a pet, and she's loved by somebody. I wouldn't ever dream of hurting her."
          At the end of the sentence, I burst into tears. Hermione gives Filch a glare and hugs me. I don't really hear as Snaps starts to accuse Harry and I, and Harry gets really close to revealing somwthing about the strange voice, but McGonagall and Dumbledore come to our rescue.
          "My cat has been Petrified! I want to see some punishment!" Filch shrieks, his eyes popping.
          "We will be able to cure her, Argue," Dumbledore says soothingly. "I do believe that Professor Sprout has some Mandrakes. As soon as they've reached their full size, Severus will be able to whip us up some Mandrake Restorative Draught. As for now, students, do go to bed. Its getting late."

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days, no one can talk about anything but the attack on the cat. Filch has gone berserk, scrubbing the words on the wall for hours muttering to himself,and giving students detention for things like "breathing too loudly" or "looking too happy".
          I've been scarred. Whenever I walk past that corridor, it takes everything in me not to burst into tears. Ginny seems to be taking it as hard as me, and Ron is doing an awful job of comforting her, so its usually me that ends up telling her that they'll catch the maniac who did it.
           Hermione, however, spends twice as much time reading, trying to find out about the Chamber or Secrets. Ron swears that she's trying to read the entire library before Christmastime. I secretly agree with him, but I don't say anything to her face, as she's known to snap.
          The attack has alienated Harry and I from the other students. They seem to think it was us and avoid the two of us whenever possible. People are terrified of us. But there's a bunch people who know it wasn't us: the entirety of the Gryffindors and Luna. And the teachers. Well, most of them.
          "Rory! Rory! Stop daydreaming, you've got work to do!" Hermione says sharply as she sets a giant pile of books on top of the essay Ron was trying to write, acting as though she's completely oblivious to his angry splutters.
          "Calm down, 'Mione, I'm getting there!" I say, bolting into a half working position. Luckily, the bell rings at that moment, and we gather our things to go to History of Magic. Another class of extra sleep for me.