Treacherous | Hermione Granger Book II

|27| Chapter Twenty- Seven

T W E N T Y  S E V E N

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"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free--" Professor Lockhart seemed to view the situation as an opportunity to boost his own status within the school. But nonetheless, Dumbledore agreed to go there.

Dumbledore headed off without haste and Saffron understood that she was to follow him. She and her friends were being joined by Lockhart, Mr. Filch, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. She felt relieved that McGonagall was there, as she certainly would hear them out.

Saffron figured that Harry had exaggerated just how self-obsessive Lockhart's office was, but if anything, it felt like he had played it down. Every corner of the room seemed to be full of a picture of himself, it was pathetic. He had to move at least a dozen pictures from his desk, without magic for some reason, before Dumbledore could place Mrs. Norris on the desk.

He examined the cat thoroughly, poking bits of her as though trying to feel what spell or enchantment was used to put the cat in such a state. Professor McGonagall did likewise, while Professor Snape had his usual ugly smirk on his face that was unreadable. For all Saffron knew, he could be devastated or delighted, it couldn't be defined. Lockhart, on the other hand, shouted out suggestions every few seconds, which weren't being entertained by the other members of staff.

Meanwhile, Filch was leaning back in a chair, sobbing hysterically, his face in his hands, unable to look at Mrs. Norris. Saffron truly felt bad for him. The cat meant a lot to him and she understood how hard it was to feel like someone you love or loved was gone for good. She just hoped that his devastation wouldn't result in her and her friends being sold out or blamed.

Saffron just stood there, her hand gripped in Hermione's. Their heads were right beside each other, so close that Saffron could hear the uneven breaths leaving the other girls mouth. She clearly shared the same worry and was planning how to justify why they were there in her head as the adults worked.

"She's not dead, Argus," Dumbledore turned to Filch, talking over Lockhart who was listing how many times he had stopped murders like this supposed one from occurring. His eyes widened when he copped onto the fact that the cat wasn't dead.

"Not dead?" gasped Filch in disbelief, still crying. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore "But how, I cannot say..."

"Ask him!" yelled Filch, pointing a quivering hand at Harry. "He and his little friends have done this!"

"No second year could have done this," stated Dumbledore simply . "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced--"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch insisted "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found - in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a - he knows I'm a Squib!"

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry told them earnestly. "And I don't even know what a Squib is,"

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape, his voice came completely out of left field as he had remained totally silent to this point, to the extent that Saffron flinched when she heard the coldness of his voice.

"Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, making Saffron bite her lip so as to not gasp. Was he actually making a case for them? "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"