"Shh!" whispered Slughorn to Mr. Norris. "Let me talk first. I've only got half an hour until my next class, so I must leave as soon as I tell you."
Mr. Norris looked impatient. "Well, are you going to get Mrs. Norris back to me or what?"
"Yes. I have a plan," said Slughorn. After glancing left and right at the muggles around him in the restaurant he said quietly, "I'm going to catnap her."
"What?" Mr. Norris stared. "Catnap?"
"Yes. I'm going to stir up some trouble in a quiet hall, and as soon as he comes rushing to it, I'll catnap Mrs. Norris, and disapparate here."
Mr. Norris frowned. "That doesn't sound like a very good plan."
"Well… no it doesn't," admitted Slughorn and shrugged. "Take it or leave it."
The muggle sighed. "Fine."
"Good," said Slughorn, rubbing his hands together. "I'll see you here Friday night at 8pm."
Friday night arrived and Slughorn had procured some firecrackers from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Glancing up and down the hall, and seeing no one in sight, he whispered a small spell, and lit the firecrackers.
Sure enough, the Weasley's firecracker creations were a success. Blue spirals, twinkling yellows and oranges, and green dragons appeared with loud "POP!"s and "BANG!"s. In no time, Argus Filch came running on the scene.
"Come now Mrs. Norris!" he said excitedly. "If we catch 'em this time, we might get them a good whuppin!"
Mrs. Norris meowed. She had come to loathe the man, but there was no one in Hogwarts castle that cared about her welfare as much as Filch, and so she played along. She had practically given up hope that she would ever be rescued. From her knowledge, she knew that the spell would be broken if only someone would brew just the right potion—an intricate mixture of lacewings, twilight mushrooms, Bulgarian pixie hair, and crystallized pineapples.
However, as she rushed after Filch, a hand suddenly picked her up by the tail, and before she could utter a meow, she was stuffed into a canvas sack. With a loud POP she felt herself squish and unsquish as she was forced to disapparate.
Filch was unable to put out the firecrackers, and seeing Seamus Finnigan approaching he yelled, "Get me McGonagall!"
He ran off.
"Bloody children!" he muttered to himself. "When I figure out which of them did it, we'll get 'em good this time! Aye! What d'ye think, Mrs. Norris? Mrs. Norris! Where are you m'love!"
By the time McGonagall had rushed to him, followed by Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Seamus, he was in hysterics.
"Calm yourself down, man!" exclaimed McGonagall, quite taken aback by Filch's agitation. He sobbed, and gurgled, and rolled upon the carpet as the Hogwarts students gathered in a crowd to watch. "Oh! Woe is me! I've lost her! I've lost her! Which one of ye did it? Which one of ye took my beloved cat, my only sole companion!"
Tears streamed down poor Argus' face as he continued bawling. The firecrackers continued exploding around him, adding to the raucous.
"Getting her petrified five years ago wasn't good enough for ye was it? You wanted to finish her off and break my poor heart! All my life I had no friends, and all I wanted was a cat! But my parents wouldn't let me have one! And now, when for once I am content, ye all must torment me so!"
"Come, come, now," said McGonagall. "We'll find her, Argus. Don't worry—"
"YOU!" he screamed, pointing at George's nose. "YOU! You did it! You set off those fireworks! Just like your schemin' brothers!"
"Don't be silly!" exclaimed McGonagall. "The boy was in my office with me! How could he have done it?"
"I don't know, but I know he did it!" screamed Argus, right before McGonagall's office door closed.
Everyone stared at Ron—or George rather—and they erupted in applause.
"Wasn't me," shrugged George. "You heard Professor McGonagall."
"Well who did it then?" demanded one of the Hufflepuff third-years.
No one knew.
Saturday morning arrived, and the mystery prankster was still not solved. Filch moped around the castle, shooting dirtier looks then usual at the students, glaring at George whenever he saw him. The professors seemed slightly worried but no one knew what about.
"I wonder who did it," said George, as he, Mrs. Figg, and Dudley sipped their polyjuice potion in Myrtle's bathroom.
"Doesn't matter," said Mrs. Figg, making a face at the drink. "I think there's something going on that's worrying the professors… and it's not just about Mrs. Norris."
"I know what's wrong," came an echoing voice. Myrtle rose from the nearest stall and smiled at Dudley. "Don't you know?"
"Know what?" said Dudley, smiling and winking at Myrtle.
"Pansy Parkinson is missing."
"Missing?"
"The jellybean he ate!" gasped George. "Percy ate a jellybean remember?"
"Oh good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs. Figg.
"Cool," said Dudley.
They stared at him.
"What's the matter with you three? Why are you drinking polyjuice potion again…" said Myrtle suspiciously.
"Oh well em…" responded Mrs. Figg nervously.
"Wait a minute! You're not… not… Harry!" the ghost exclaimed at Dudley. "Harry never flirts with me! And you two! You aren't Hermione and Ron!"
"Shhh! Keep it down!"
"You have to keep it a secret."
"Why?"
"You have to."
"What'll you give me?"
"Ehhh…" the three exchanged glances.
"OOH! I know!" squealed Myrtle. She whispered something in Mrs. Figg's ear.
Mrs. Figg grinned. "She wants a date with you, Dudley. In here, tomorrow evening."