Chapter 9: The Writing on the Wall

To their dismay, Harry, Draco, Neville, Hermione, and the twins were now standing awkwardly, trying to comfort a sobbing Mr Filch in Professor Dumbledore's office as he examined Mrs Norris.

Snape had quickly taken charge, vanishing the words on the wall after casting a few different spells to try to determine their origin, then removed Mrs Norris from the torch bracket and floated her, Disillusioned, behind him as he made his way to the Headmaster's office. Not really having anywhere else to go, and wanting to see what the conclusion would be, the Marauders' Recruits draggled along behind him. When Dumbledore finally came sweeping through the door, he stopped short at the sight of so many people in his office, then smiled genially. "Severus, children, what a surprise! What can I do for you?"

Snape quickly explained the scene they'd come across, as well as the cover story they'd all come up with to prevent the public at large from finding out that Harry was a Parseltongue (It wasn't an issue that his dorm mates knew, since they knew him well enough to never believe he could do something like that). Dumbledore summoned McGonagall, since they were all from Gryffindor and should therefore be represented fairly, then, once she'd arrived, he turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, Professor Snape said you discovered him as you were on your way to the bathroom?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, Occlumency shields on full.

"Why that exact bathroom, may I ask?"

"It was the closest one to where we were at the time, sir. Also, I knew for a fact that Moaning Myrtle wasn't there, since I saw her at Sir Nicholas' Deathday Party, so I knew I wouldn't be disturbed. However, I didn't actually get to go, since we found Mrs Norris."

"Albus, let her go to the bathroom," chided Professor McGonagall. "There's one just through that door, Miss Granger."

Hermione put on a face of gratefulness and went through the door.

"Headmaster," said Snape, "were you trying to insinuate that one of the students that I was escorting, could have done such a thing? If I recall correctly, full Petrification of that sort is not taught in the Hogwarts syllabus besides a simple hex that can be counteracted easily, and besides, these second-years are on fairly good terms with the caretaker."

And so, in due course, Mr Filch was summoned, both to confirm his relationship with the Marauders' Recruits, and because it was Mrs Norris who had been petrified. They waited for a few minutes, and just after Hermione got back from 'visiting the bathroom', Filch knocked on the door.

"What's going on here?" Filch asked once he'd arrived. Then, he saw Mrs Norris, and fell back, clutching his face in horror. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?" he shrieked.

Hermione quickly stepped in. "Professor Snape says she's been Petrified, Mr Filch. I needed to go to the bathroom, so we detoured from our way to Gryffindor Tower, and we found her hanging from a torch bracket."

"Oh, my sweet cat! Who did this to you?"

"Argus!" called Professor Dumbledore. "I have not yet had the chance to fully examine her. Why don't you sit down and allow me?"

Visibly choking back tears, Mr Filch nodded and sat down heavily in the nearest chair, shaking. Dumbledore, having bent down to examine Mrs Norris, his nose barely an inch from her fur, didn't seem to notice when Filch started sobbing quietly. Harry thought that if Mrs Norris weren't Petrified, she'd be annoyed with the way the Headmaster was prodding and poking her.

Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close as Dumbledore, and Snape loomed behind them like a shadow. Mr Filch's sobs were getting worse, so Draco handed him a hanky surreptitiously, which he took gratefully. Dumbledore started to mutter under his breath, tapping her form with his wand as he did so, but to no avail. At last, he straightened up and walked over to Filch. "She's not dead, Argus. Severus was indeed correct in his examination."

"Petrified?" asked Filch, sniffing. "Is that why she's all—all stiff and frozen?"

"Yes. How she came to be this way, I cannot say." He turned to Harry and his friends. "As for you six, consider yourselves very lucky that you did not meet whatever or whomever did this."

Dumbledore nodded to himself, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of annoyance cross his countenance, but it was gone just as quickly as it had arrived. "Argus, we will be able to cure her by the end of the year. Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes, and as soon as they have reached their full size, I shall have a potion made which will revive Mrs Norris."

Filch sniffed once more, then stood up, swaying slightly. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry and his friends, waving them off.

"I shall escort them to Gryffindor Tower," decided McGonagall, and she shepherded them out the door, and up the many flights of stairs to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

oOoOo

For the next few days, Filch alternated his whereabouts between the Hospital Wing and the corridor where he'd been told his beloved familiar had been attacked, as though the assailant might return. The next day, Dumbledore stood up at breakfast and announced that an anonymous group of students had discovered the scene, and that they should all be more careful when wandering the castle's corridors alone.

Lots of the first- and second-years had started walking about in groups, looking tired and stressed, both because their exams were coming up in little more than a month, and because the story of one History class had escaped and created terror.

Hermione had been annoyed that she'd left her copy of Hogwarts, A History at home, and had resorted to asking the local History teacher about the subject they were all so interested in. When she put her hand up in class, Professor Binns looked dumbfounded.

"Miss—er—?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

For the first time since Binns was appointed to the post of History of Magic teacher, all of the students in the class were hanging onto his every word. What they learned in that lesson was quickly distributed to every available ear, mainly via Lavender Brown.

In order to find out about the possible monster within the chamber, Hermione had decided to commandeer the Room of Requirement for the time being. Whenever she could spare a moment, she dragged whichever one of her friends that also had free time there for research. She had discovered that she could ask the room for books on magical snakes, and it would provide copies of books in the library or students' personal collections which pertained to that subject.

One such afternoon, Blaise walked in with Fred, under the Invisibility Cloak. He realised that he couldn't see Draco at all, and that the room looked very different to how it normally was during his little get-togethers with his best friend. He had, of course, been told about what the Room could do, but he hadn't fully believed it until that very moment. However, it was still very startling. "What the hell?" he muttered.

One large pile of books seemed to explode outwards, and Draco emerged from within. "Blaise, hi. You look terrible."

Blaise raised one eyebrow. "You're becoming less and less subtle as time goes on, Draco."

"Ignore him, Dray. You're still more subtle than I am," said Harry from amidst another pile of books.

"Oh good, I feel so much better," snarked Draco. "You're the absolute epitome of obvious, Harry."

"… I'm offended. Git."

"Prat," Draco shot back. He turned and saw that Blaise was watching their rally with an amused expression. "What?"

"The both of you are obvious, if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't," Draco said and stuck his tongue out. "You didn't answer my comment about how terrible you looked. You're the one that's slipping."

Blaise ran his hands over his face and sighed. "I haven't been sleeping very well lately. With the amount of homework we have, and the internal politics of Slytherin… Everyone is pretending that they either are this unknown Heir of Slytherin, or they at least know who he is. The truth is, though, that we're all terrified that we're going to be the next to be Petrified."

"But you're purebloods," Hermione pointed out, looking up from the book she'd been perusing.

"True, most of us are. Some of us are half-bloods, though, and some are part creature. I, myself, am part Dark Veela, even though I advertise it as little as possible, but what if this Heir has the ability to sniff things like that out? Or—"

Harry snorted. "Whoever's doing this, isn't the real Heir of Slytherin. I am," he said calmly, and held out his hand, on which the Heir ring of Slytherin shone brightly. "Neville's the Heir of Gryffindor, by the way."

"Yup," said Neville from behind yet another pile of books.

"Is George, perchance, in here as well?" asked Blaise, sniggering.

"Back here!"

He turned to Draco, who shrugged. "The room can expand as much as you want it to. Also, yes, I already knew about Harry's Heir status. I found out on the train to Hogwarts before first year."

Harry walked over to Blaise. "I promise you, I'm not the one who Petrified Mrs Norris, and I didn't write those words on the wall. We," he gestured to all of them, "have a theory that this fake Heir person is actually Voldemort, since he wouldn't know that when I destroyed his body when I was one, I basically conquered him, so his bloodline's house transferred to me. After what happened last year, we think it's more of the same."

"A spectre?" asked Blaise, and Harry nodded.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Maybe someone in Slytherin does know where he is."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" asked Fred.

"If you think I'm suggesting that some of us use the cloak to snoop around the Slytherin common room for a while, maybe even their dorms, then yes."

Harry whistled. "It's a bit risky, Draco. Right now, they're all really tense. Blaise said so, himself."

"Well then," said Hermione. "How about the day after everyone gets back from Christmas break? They're bound to be more relaxed, and it'll be more disorganised, so someone accidentally getting nudged when there's no one close enough shouldn't bring them down on us. Blaise, you could let us in, and then when we're done, we'll just slip out with someone else."

Blaise gave a very put-upon sigh, but agreed, and the others all knew that the boy was excited at breaking the rules in such a way. He had successfully commandeered his way into the inner workings of the Marauders' Recruits, which meant that it was highly likely he would be participating in many, if not all, future pranks.