Chapter Twenty-Two – The Writing on the Wall
Blaise drew his wand and cast a spell to levitate the cat from the wall sconce. Millie was more distraught than Harry had ever seen her. She rushed to the hovering form and grabbed Mamon from midair, sobbing that someone had killed her cat. Harry and Blaise did their best to console her, but they were terribly frightened by this macabre discovery. Neither was sure what to do.
At first, Harry assumed that the blood smeared across the wall came from the poor creature, but as he gingerly pulled Mamon from Millie's trembling hands, cringing at its stiff, immobile form, he realized that there was no blood in his fur. He shuddered. If the blood didn't belong to the cat, then where did it come from?
He stared up at the message again, wondering who the heir was, and what hidden horrors this "chamber of secrets" was meant to contain.
"Do you think the voice you heard did this?" Blaise whispered to Harry.
Harry shook his head. "The voice was following the smell of blood. Whoever did this must have done it before..."
They both stared at the words, supporting Millie between them, who was still sobbing over her cat.
"Let's get out of here," Blaise said.
Harry was thinking the same thing. It wouldn't be good to be seen standing before this bizarre notice, holding a dead cat. But before he could agree with his friend, he heard the sound of quick footsteps approaching. Cursing his bad luck, Harry turned to see the very last person he wanted to encounter in this situation.
Professor Snape swooped upon them, his black cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a great bat. Harry knew better than to speak first. He had endured the usual jeers and calculated sabotage from the potions master this year, but Harry had learned to keep his head down and speak as little as possible, and thus he had managed to get by without an outright confrontation with the professor. Now there could be no escape. Without a doubt, Snape would find some way to blame Harry for this incident.
But Snape's attention was not directed at Harry. He eyes were transfixed by the words scrawled on the wall, and his already sallow face became as white as parchment. His thin lips moved along as he read the message quietly to himself, then his gaze fell on the three students huddled beneath the letters.
"Potter..." he said, just as Harry knew he would, "Some sort of Halloween prank?"
Normally, Millie would have jumped to his aid. She seemed to be the one Snape hated the least of Harry and his friends, but she was still too upset to be of any use. Instead, Blaise came to Harry's rescue, stating confidently that Harry had nothing to do with the writing on the wall.
"I've been with him all day, Professor," he explained, "Harry didn't do this."
"Then what could have brought the three of you here, to a deserted corridor, when the rest of the school is still observing the feast?" Snape asked suspiciously.
"I could ask you the same thing." Harry blurted. Blaise glared at him for this interference, but it had just occurred to Harry that Snape hadn't been at the feast. It was suspicious that he'd show up now, just after Harry lost track of the voice and found Mamon instead.
"Not that I owe you an explanation, Potter, but I despise Halloween," Snape said, pursing his thin lips as if the very word tasted sour to him. "And now that I've satisfied your curiosity, perhaps you'd do well to answer my question before I call Mr. Filch about this mess?"
"Millie's cat," Blaise answered quickly, perhaps fearing that Harry would say something irresponsible to the professor again, "He's been missing all day. We thought we heard him meowing, and followed him here."
Harry was thankful for Blaise's quick thinking. Snape would have never believed the story about the voice. It was far too bizarre to be believed by anyone.
Millie chose the perfect moment to pull Mamon from Harry's hands, and began blubbering in earnest about the fate of her pet. Snape was forced to direct his attention elsewhere. Harry heard him mutter a quiet curse to himself, then he lifted his wand. Harry jumped back in surprise as a bright silver light burst from the end of the potion master's wand. It took the shape of a large, four-legged animal.
"We have an emergency," Snape said coolly to the spectral animal, "Summon the headmaster here."
Harry thought he recognized the shape of a deer as it cantered away, short tail flipped up behind it.
The deer out of sight, Snape turned to the message once again, glaring at the words, still wet and glistening as if they'd just been written.
"Did you see anyone?" he asked suddenly, staring at the wall rather than look at the three children.
"No, we didn't, we -"
"I was speaking to Mr. Potter," Snape replied, cutting Blaise short of his explanation.
Harry wasn't sure why he should be singled-out, though knowing Snape's hatred of him, he was mostly likely trying to catch Harry in a lie, so he could blame him for this whole mess.
"We didn't see anyone," Harry said with confidence, bracing himself for the assault, "We chased the cat here, and that's when we found the writing."
"And the cat?" asked Snape.
"He was hanging from that light," Harry said, pointing to the iron sconce on the wall, "Blaise took him down. It was upsetting Millie."
"That's funny, I thought you were chasing the cat's cries?" Snape said with a curl of his lip. Harry sensed trouble.
"I wonder," Snape continued, "How the culprit could have done this to the animal, left his message on the wall, and escaped without your notice?"
"If I knew how he did it, professor, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
They heard the tramping of several footsteps, and Albus Dumbledore appeared on the scene. He brought with him the other heads of houses – Professors Sprout, McGonagall, and Flitwick. To Harry's chagrin, Gilderoy Lockhart was hot at their heels. Why he had decided to come along was beyond Harry. The other teachers did not seem pleased to have him in their company, and Harry was not mistaken when he perceived another quiet curse emanate from Professor Snape.
"If it's the poltergeist again, I have a few spells I think would do just the trick. I was instrumental in the exorcism of the Pawtucket Poltergeist. All it took was a simple purification charm, and... Merlin's beard!"
Lockhart's boasting was cut short as the party approached the end of the corridor. Harry thought he saw his blooming complexion pale momentarily. Dumbledore took the opportunity granted by his sudden silence to ask Snape what had happened.
"Mr. Potter and his friends discovered it moments ago," Snape explained, "They claim they were chasing a cat, and it seems they found it."
Snape motioned carelessly to Millie, who had calmed her sobs but was still cradling the stiff form of Mamon. Dumbledore approached her and rested a kind hand on her shoulder.
"Ms. Bulstrode, if I may?" he asked gently.
Millie gave a mute nod and handed the cat to Dumbledore, who began inspecting it minutely through his half-moon spectacles. Harry assumed he was searching for injuries to account for the blood, and knew he would find none.
Suddenly, a distant rumble of motion and voices arose from down the hall. The feast had ended, and any moment now the hall would be filled with students returning to their common rooms. Dumbledore gave a sign that he too was aware of the bustle, and suggested aloud that they move their party elsewhere.
"My office is the closest, headmaster!" Lockhart said, stepping forward eagerly. He had recovered from his initial shock and seemed eager to be of service somehow.
Dumbledore thanked him indifferently for the offer, and instructed Lockhart to lead the way. Lockhart did so happily, allowing Dumbledore to exchange a few whispered words with Professor McGonagall behind his back. Harry didn't catch what was said, but the next moment, McGonagall turned to face him.
"You three had better come along with us," she said before turning her back and marching in the wake of the headmaster.
Snape gave Harry and Blaise a shove, causing them the stumble forward, "You heard the professor. Get moving."
Harry walked in silence, not daring to whisper anything to Blaise with Snape at his back. His mind was racing with the possibilities of what had happened, and what was about to happen. It was clear that Snape suspected him, but Harry wasn't going to let himself be blamed for this accident. The very first chance he got, he would tell Dumbledore everything.
They arrived Lockhart's office, and Harry had to repress his exclamation of disdain. Lockhart had decorated the walls with pictures of himself. Some of the portraits peered curiously out of their frames at this intrusion, while Harry spied others darting out of sight, their hair in painted rollers.
The real Lockhart was standing by his desk next to Dumbledore, who had placed Mamon before him and continued his quiet inspection. Lockhart was busy lamenting the fact that he had not been there when the event occurred, as he knew just the spell that would have "saved the poor animal."
Dumbledore turned away from him, ignoring him entirely, and approached Millie with a kind smile on his face.
"He is not dead, Miss Bulstrode."
Millie gave a small sniffle and looked up into Dumbledore's face, her bloodshot eyes wide and disbelieving.
"Not dead?" she asked.
"No, not dead," Dumbledore repeated, "He has been petrified. But he can be cured."
"Petrified!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall, "Albus, are you sure?"
"Quite sure. The question is, how?"
"Perhaps Mr. Potter would have some explanation," Snape suggested, his voice full of malicious intent, "After all, he claims he heard the cat meowing only moments before its body was discovered."
Dumbledore turned his light blue eyes to Harry, his curiosity evident. Harry braced himself. He had been prepared for this moment. It was his opportunity to tell Dumbledore the truth, from the mysterious voice to discovering the bloody wall. But now that the moment was upon him, he hesitated. He couldn't understand what made him pause, but he felt that it would be foolish to confer this secret now, in front of Snape and the other teachers. He found himself saying, "We only thought it was Mamon. It could've just as easily been Mrs. Norris, or some other cat."
Dumbledore observed Harry thoughtfully, then said, "It would take very powerful dark magic to do something like this. I doubt it is within the power of any second-year, Professor Snape."
He said this, no doubt to clear away the suspicion Snape was trying to bring against him, but Harry was not comforted. There was something about the way Dumbledore's gaze pierced through him that made Harry think he was not completely in the clear.
"As it is... Pomona? I believe you have acquired a batch of mandrakes, have you not?" the headmaster inquired.
"Yes, indeed," said Professor Sprout brightly, "Growing nicely too. Though it will be a few weeks yet before they've fully matured."
"You see, Miss Bulstrode," Dumbledore explained, "The mandrake plant can be used to make a variety of potions. Once matured, they can be brewed into a draught that will cure your cat. Until then, I will see to it that Madame Pomfrey shows him the same care she would give any student."
"Ah, and I know just the potion!" shouted Professor Lockhart. He had been looking slightly put out that the general attention had been so long directed to someone other than himself. "Yes, it would be no trouble at all, I could have it prepared in no time."
"Snape's the potions master," Harry interrupted. He saw Snape gape at him surprise, and Harry couldn't blame him. He'd surprised himself. He disliked Snape immensely, and yet he felt better about leaving Mamon in Snape's hands than trusting him to the likes of Professor Lockhart.
"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore gently corrected.
"Yeah, that's the one," Harry said, pretending he didn't understand the chastisement. He thought he saw Dumbledore's eyes twinkle in amusement.
"I think it would be best if the adults took it from here," said Dumbledore pleasantly. It was clearly a sign that Harry and the others were dismissed. Harry and Blaise each took one of Millie's arms to walk her to the door. Normally, she would have resented their support, but she allowed herself to be led willingly as she kept her head down. Professor Sprout bustled out the door before them, stating that she would just pop down to the greenhouses to make sure the mandrakes were getting the best care, now that they had an important job to perform.
Despite Dumbedore's words a moment before, it didn't appear that the other teachers had plans to linger. Lockhart quickly darted out the door after Professor Sprout, obviously trying to give her advice on the best fertilizer to use for the mandrake plant, as if he had any idea. Flitwick and McGonagall remained just long enough to exchange a few words with Dumbledore, then they too were preparing to leave, each with their own mission to accomplish. Snape looked as if he had other things to do as well, but Harry heard Dumbledore call him back as Harry and Blaise made their way slowly into the hall.
"A moment of your time, Severus? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
Harry turned his head and saw a stony, but resigned, look on Snape's face. He'd obviously been expecting this summons, but had hoped to avoid the inevitable conversation. Harry assumed that they'd be talking about him. After all, Harry was in Snape's house.
Harry asked Blaise to go on without him, with the intention of listening in at the door, only to see Professor McGonagall closing it behind her, shutting Dumbledore and Snape from view.
"And what are you doing still loitering in the hall?" she asked sternly, "I believe the headmaster told you to return to your common rooms?"
Dumbledore had said no such thing, but Harry knew better than to argue with her. He resumed his place by Millie's side, and the trio began making their way back down the hall.
A large group of students had gathered around the ominous message, though they had split into smaller factions according to house lines. Harry saw a few older Slytherin students laughing at what they supposed was someone's prank, while a couple of Ravenclaw girls whispered, heads bent close, eyes darting to the Slytherin group with sly glances.
Harry caught snatches of conversation as he passed.
"Chamber of Secrets? What's that?"
"Enemies of the heir..."
"Whose heir?"
The student body's curiosity had been aroused, but there was no general feeling of alarm, merely of mystery. After all, the students had not seen what had happened to Millie's cat, and perhaps they weren't aware that the red writing was in fact blood. Blood that, as yet, appeared to have no source.
Harry pushed through the clusters of chattering students, trying to keep his head down and a low profile. But he was Harry Potter, and he could never go anywhere without attracting some notice. Already a few heads were turning his way, and he heard muttering. Questions started to fly, like "Did he just come from Lockhart's office?" and "Did you see him here before?"
Then he heard a camera shutter click, and with a feeling of dread he heard the voice of Colin Creevy calling out to him.
"Harry! Hey, Harry!"
"Not now, Colin."
Harry urged Blaise to quicken their pace, but the sprightly first-year caught up to them easily.
"Harry, did you see the message?"
"Yeah, Colin, I saw it."
"I got a photo! What do you suppose it means?"
"Something bad," Harry said, thinking of what Dumbledore said about dark magic being involved, "Listen, Colin. We're taking Millie back to the common room. She isn't feeling well. If you know what's good for you, you'll head back too."
Colin was quiet for a change. His steps faltered as he wondered what import could be hidden in Harry's warning. Fortunately, he caught sight of his friend, and rushed in the opposite direction to get Pandey's opinion on the proceedings.