[2] Diverging Paths: Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, and the Chamber of Secrets

8: legends of old

As the other students were shooed away by Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, Filch came hobbling forward, pointing an accusing finger at Harry, who was closest to the frozen cat. "You!" he yelled. "You've killed my cat!"

Only having just arrived, Professor Dumbledore did his best to placate the caretaker. "Now, now, Argus. I'm sure that Mister Potter and the others had nothing to do with this." Madam Pomfrey, the school matron, and the other heads of houses followed behind the headmaster. Dumbledore walked up to Mrs. Norris and unhinged her tail from the torch bracket, handling her carefully, and gave the cat over to Filch; he cradled her like a newly born child. "She is merely petrified, Argus, no need for alarm."

Lockhart jogged up only a moment later, his hair just as immaculately styled as usual. "Sorry, everyone! I took a little nap, only just got word. What did I miss?" The other teachers gave him blank looks.

"Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's cat, has been petrified, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said, peering over his spectacles at the younger man.

"Ah." Lockhart peered at the cat. "Unlucky that I wasn't there. I know just the countercurse that would have saved her."

McGonagall interrupted him before he could go on any longer. "Perhaps, Professor Dumbledore, we should move to one of our offices. Somewhere more private."

"My office is just around the corner!"

Dumbledore nodded, decided. "Very well. Gilderoy, lead the way."

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher proudly led them all to his office and was the first one inside, sitting behind his desk while he waited for everyone else to file in. Percy was the last one through the door. He closed it softly behind him and returned to Harry's side.

Filch was still shaking with anger. "I tell you, Professor, it was Potter! Or maybe it was Jackson! They know I'm a - they know I'm a squib!"

Snape stepped forward. Percy nervously awaited his verdict, sure that Snape would call for their immediate expulsion. What the man said, however, caused Percy to look at the other second years in confusion, sure that he had heard wrong. They had similar expressions on their faces too, however. "Perhaps Potter and his little friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, Professor."

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why they weren't at the feast with the rest of the students," Sprout said.

Harry quickly came to their defense. "We were all at Sir Nicholas' Death Day party, professors. He asked if Percy and I wanted to come, so we invited Ron and Hermione."

In his squeaky voice, Flitwick wondered, "But then why didn't you go to the feast afterward?"

Percy looked at Harry urgently, trying to catch his attention. They couldn't know about the voice. They would all think that they were mad, and then they would be sent to a mental hospital or something. They could not know. So, Percy spoke before Harry could open his mouth to respond. "Er, we weren't hungry."

This was promptly debunked by Ron's growling stomach.

The teachers all raised their eyebrows at the sheepish ginger and Dumbledore chuckled before saying, "Well, innocent until proven guilty, I suppose." Then he turned to Filch, who was still cradling his cat gingerly. "Argus, I assure you; Pomona at this moment is growing quite a collection of Mandrakes," Sprout nodded proudly, confirming Dumbledore's statement, "that, once they have matured quite sufficiently, will be used to create a restorative to return Mrs. Norris to her normal self." With Filch still muttering about cat-killers, Dumbledore sent Percy, Harry, Ron, and Hermione back up to Gryffindor Tower.