157 Chamber of secrets pt.2 (1/2)

”As Mr.Black said, she has been Petrified,” said Dumbledore. ”But how, I cannot say…”

”Ask him!” shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

”No second year could have done this,” said Dumbledore firmly. ”it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced —”

”He did it, he did it!” Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. ”You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found — in my office — he knows I'm a — I'm a —” Filch's face worked horribly. ”He knows I'm a Squib!” he finished.

”I never touched Mrs. Norris!” Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. ”And I don't even know what a Squib is.”

”Rubbish!” snarled Filch. ”He saw my Kwikspell letter! It had disappeared before but now I am sure who is the culprit behind it all.”

”I don't even know what letter are you talking about.” Harry refuted.

”If I might speak, Headmaster,” said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of foreboding increased, he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good, ”Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Harry was shocked, he didn't know why Snape would try to help him but then he remembered Draco who was along with them.

”But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?” Lockhart out of everyone called out with a nasty voice staring at Draco.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party. ”…there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there —”

”But why not join the feast afterward?” said Lockhart, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. ”Why go up to that corridor?”

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.

”Because — because —” Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, ”because we were tired and wanted to go to bed,” he said.

”Without any supper?” said Lockhart, a triumphant smile flickering across his face. ”I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties.”

”We weren't hungry,” said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble.

Lockhart's nasty smile widened.

”I suggest, Headmaster, that they are not being entirely truthful,” he said. ”It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. To be honest, it's not like they haven't got someone in their group who is very proficient in magic.”

”Just say it straight, Lockhart you are trying to blame me aren't you.” Draco said frowning, ”It's true if I wanted to I could easily do so, but why would I go this roundabout way of getting myself blamed for it. Do you really consider me that stupid on the other hand, you look too eager to blame me...”

Draco's voice got slower and slower as his eyes gleamed with light as if he had finally figured something out. The sudden rise in power and the chamber of secret correlates to one thing, Tom Riddle's diary. Draco didn't know how Lockhart got his hand on it but he was now certain who possessed it.

”Mr. Black, Lockhart just keep quiet for once.” said Professor McGonagall sharply, ”And Lockhart, I see no reason to deprive of them of their privileges. This cat wasn't hit over the head and there is no evidence at all that they had done anything wrong.”

Dumbledore was giving Draco a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Draco feel as though he were being X-rayed but he stayed silent as he stared back at him.

”Innocent until proven guilty, Lockhart,” he said firmly.

Lockhart looked furious.

So did Filch.

”My cat has been Petrified!” he shrieked, his eyes popping. ”I want to see some punishment!”

”We will be able to cure her, Argus,” said Dumbledore patiently. ”Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris.”

”I'll make it,” Lockhart butted in again looking away from Draco, ”I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep —”

”Excuse me,” said Snape icily. ”But I believe I am the Potions master at this school.”

There was a very awkward pause.