“It was definitely a curse that killed her. probably the Transmogrifian Torture. I’ve seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn’t there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her . …..
Lockhart’s comments were punctuated by Filch’s dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself If Dumbledore believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure.
Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.
“. . . I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou,” said Lockhart, “a series of attacks, the full story’s in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once ……
The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.
At last Dumbledore straightened up.
“She’s not dead, Argus,” he said softly.
Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.
“Not dead?” choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris.” But why’s she all. all stiff and frozen?”
“She has been Petrified,” said Dumbledore (“Ah! I thought so!” said Lockhart).” 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!”
“If I might speak, Headmaster,” said Snape from the shadows, and Harry’s sense of forboding 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,” he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it.” 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?”
Harry, Ron and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party.” . . . there were hundreds of ghosts, theyll tell you we were there.”
“But why not join the feast afterward?” said Snape, 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 Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt 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.
Snape’s nasty smile widened.
“I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is 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. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest.”
“Really, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall sharply, “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong.”
Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light- blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed.