Harry Potter - The Accidental Animagus

Chapter 48 - Harry Writes Harry Potter

The next morning, all anyone could talk about was what had happened to Mrs. Norris and the message on the wall. Between the crass comments about her, the constant stares, and the nervous whispers about himself, Harry felt like he was on the brink of losing his mind. Granted, many of the muggle-borns were very worried with good reason, as they were already informing themselves about the Chamber of Secrets: even Colin Creevey seemed a little less excited today; but it was little comfort to Harry.

All in all, he wasn’t in a mood to talk to anyone today, and he was glad Hermione was generally fending them off. Neville did, too, before long, quickly taking the hint. Harry noticed that many of the teachers were also looking more subdued, and Professor McGonagall looked almost as shell-shocked as he felt, unsurprisingly. Oddly, the one other student who looked as shell-shocked as Harry was Ginny Weasley, who was staring into space and barely even touching her breakfast. She jumped and nearly fell out of her seat when Colin sat next to her and said, “Hey, Ginny, are you okay?”

“Ahh! Oh, sorry, Colin. I…I just c-can’t believe what happened to that c-cat,” she stammered.

Harry looked up from his own food and blinked at her. “Yeah, I know—it was pretty awful,” he said.

“Yeah, my sis is a big cat-lover,” Ron said. “You don’t know Mrs. Norris, though. Trust me; we’re better off without her.”

“Ron!” Harry snapped. “That’s not nice!”

“Wha—?”

“Ron, you know how much Harry loves cats,” Hermione said pointedly. Ginny looked at Harry with interest, as did Neville and Colin.

“Right, sorry,” Ron mumbled.

“Hey, there…Harry? Can I ask you something?” Harry’s head snapped up to see Justin Finch-Fletchley approaching the Gryffindor Table, looking fearful.

Harry sighed: “Hi, uh, sure, Justin.”

“Um, you’re not really the Heir of Slytherin, are you?”

“No, Justin, I’m not,” he groaned.

“Oh, good,” he said with relief. “‘Cause the other guys in Hufflepuff are saying you must be because you’re…”

“Because I’m a Parselmouth?” Harry asked. Justin nodded. “Look, I don’t know how I’m a Parselmouth, but I didn’t attack Mrs. Norris, and I’m definitely not going after the muggle-borns. I mean, come on, my sister’s a muggle-born, and everyone saw how hard I fought for the Muggle Protection Act. I don’t hold with anything the Heir of Slytherin believes in, whoever he is, so you can go tell them that.”

“Uh, right, Harry,” Justin said, still looking intimidated. “I will.” He quickly made his way back to the Hufflepuff Table.

“I wonder who Slytherin’s Heir is, though,” Ron said. “I bet it’s Malfoy. Everyone knows he hates muggle-borns.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I bet this is what that elf was warning me about,” he said darkly.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, “we said Dobby belonged to Malfoy or Nott. What if it is one of them?”

“Yeah, it could be. I don’t know how we could find out for sure, though—unless I sneak into the Slytherin Dorms,” he suggested.