Chapter 7: The First Petrification

Updated 7 August 2017: I totally forgot that they were already brewing the Polyjuice, and Ginny had been possessed already, so I fixed that. Now the deal is that last time it was just graffiti, and this is the actual first petrification.


When Harry stepped into the Great Hall for breakfast, every student gathered there fell abruptly silent. The tables were, for some reason, much fuller than was usual for early mornings, and the silence fell like a tangible weight. Worse, almost, was the ongoing, forcibly cheery chatter from the faculty table at the very front, even as they kept sneaking glances at Harry.

Head held high, hand tucked into his pocket to brush against Tom's book, Harry walked with measured steps to an empty seat at the long Gryffindor table. As he pulled out his selected chair, his housemates scattered left and right, even those across from him hastily spotting a friend sitting elsewhere.

What was going on? Harry served himself two pancakes (with syrup, of course), a not-too-crisp piece of bacon, and a spoonful of strawberries, and wondered. Was this because of his fight with Ron and Hermione? He could understand the Gryffindors getting their knickers in a twist over it, but why the rest of the school? Even the professors were looking at him, tearing their eyes quickly away when they noticed him looking back. Did gossip really spread that fast in this school?

Harry supposed he would find out soon, for Dumbledore had ascended to the podium and once more the Hall was silent. He stood straight, but his face was as solemn as Harry had ever seen it, and he somehow looked years older than he had yesterday.

"Students," the old Headmaster began, "and staff, and all others who reside in Hogwarts. Last night, an unfortunate incident occurred in this school. This incident was long past curfew - so I wonder how many seem to have heard rumors already," he added, the twinkle briefly returning to his eyes as several students stared abashedly at their breakfasts. "It is to my great sorrow that I must announce that, for the first time in fifty years, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened, and one of the residents of this castle has been petrified."

The Headmaster waited patiently as students from every house broke into anxious conversation, scanning the room for their friends and family. Even the Slytherins, usually calm and collected in public, were whispering frantically to one another.

Harry sat there, stunned. He had seen the graffiti, but that was ages ago, and it had just been a bad joke hadn't it? Merlin, if there really was a monster that could petrify people he was lucky he had Tom, or he might not have returned so quickly to his dorm last night. And if he was petrified, what would happen to Tom then? He would have to take every precaution to keep himself and his friend safe.

Meanwhile, the noise in the Hall had slowly died down as everyone finished checking up on those they cared about. At this signal, Dumbledore drew himself straight once more and cleared his throat, a soft noise that nevertheless carried to each and every student.

"I can see that you are all rightfully worried about your classmates here at Hogwarts, and I hope that going forward in this difficult time we can all draw closer together, rather than pulling apart. I urge all of you to never travel these halls if you are not accompanied by at least one other student, and if you can manage it, a prefect or a professor. Your Heads of House should know where you are at all times, so stay together and do not linger between classes or hesitate to head straight to your dormitories at all other times. Morning classes have been cancelled today, so following this meal you will all go to your respective common rooms, where your Head of House will have further instructions. Thank you for your resilience at this time."

As the old man - for he looked old, truly old, now - stepped down from the podium, a voice rang out across the Hall.

"But who was it?"

Dumbledore stopped, slowly turned back, and looked out once more at the sea of faces staring up at him. He sighed, and then spoke. "To my deep sorrow, the member of this community who has fallen victim to petrification is none other than Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's beloved cat. I hope that she will be the first and final casualty of this event."

The tension in the Hall broke, students sagging with relief that none of their friends had been hurt. Soon, there was quiet laughter among some groups, because it's funny if you think about it, right, it's just a cat. Although the Headmaster sat on his throne-like chair as if the weight of the world was upon his shoulders, the students seemed no longer to have a care in the world. Not one noticed that at the very end of the staff table, Argus Filch was weeping.


Several weeks passed, and soon Mrs. Norris' petrification was forgotten. If Filch seemed especially angry more often, that was just the way it was, and most of the students continued to ignore his demands that they follow his rules and then laugh behind his back, same as ever.

Harry Potter was not one of those students. He had confessed to Tom, days ago, how conflicted he felt over the loss of his two friends, and together they had decided that Harry should make amends. Harry, though, took this beyond Ron and Hermione, and had decided to right his wrongs with any resident of the school he could think of. Of course, the reunion of the Gryffindor trio came first.

Ron had been reluctant at first when Harry approached him, but when he saw how painful their separation had been for Harry as well, he gave in. It was awkward between them for a short while, but before long everything was back to normal and they were laughing and joking as though nothing had happened.

Hermione, on the other hand, welcomed Harry back with open arms, talking the whole while about how glad she was he'd seen the right of things, and what a terrible mistake he made, but don't worry, we're here for you now Harry, just don't do anything like that again, alright? Harry had nodded and smiled in the right places, and after that it was alright between them, although he did catch her giving him a certain look when she thought he wasn't looking, as if he were a science project or some anomaly to be understood. He ignored it though, and soon enough it went away.

Now, it was time for Harry to talk to Filch. Although he didn't have much in the way of a relationship with the caretaker, he had noticed the man grieving his beloved cat, and how everyone else seemed to think it was all a big joke. So one afternoon, when all the third-years and above were off in Hogsmeade, Harry approached him.

Filch's office was in the dungeons, and it showed. The air smelled like pondweed and mold, and Harry could hear dripping not far off. He wrapped his robes tighter around himself and shivered before raising one hand to knock gently on the door. When no noise came from within, he braced himself and knocked again, harder. His Gryffindor courage was rewarded when the handle turned and, leaping back, Harry watched the door creak open to reveal Filch looking even worse than usual.

"Whadda ya want," the man said in a flat voice, a statement more than a question. He glared at Harry, daring him to think his petty reasons were enough to bother him.

"Well, um, Mr. Filch, sir, I just wanted to say how sorry I am about Mrs. Norris, and all," Harry ventured, his voice trembling in places. He was, after all, only twelve and Filch was nothing if not intimidating.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he demanded, voice rising. "How dare you! Get out! Get out!" But before he could slam the door, Harry put a small hand on his arm. Filch was stunned, and froze.

"I promise it's not a joke, sir. I really just wanted to offer my condolences. Um, me and my friends made a card, um, here it is," Harry said softly, offering with his other hand a folded-over square of parchment. "And, um, we're also trying to be cleaner, um, about the floors. Have a nice afternoon!" he said, increasingly quickly, and at the last word broke contact and fled.

Argus Filch stared at the paper in his hand, and tried to remember when last a student had come to his corner of the dungeon for any reason other than a detention.


Author's Note:

^^; I'm starting to think I just can't write more than 1500 words at a time, sorry! I am really trying to put aside time to write, and I'll definitely continue to update, don't worry about that. For now, enjoy, and I'll try to get more done ASAP.