Dinner in the Great Hall had ended only a few minutes earlier when a high-pitched shriek tore through the air—the kind that made even the ghosts shudder.
Within seconds, students were flooding the corridors, pushing and shoving their way to the second floor. Because naturally, when you heard a scream like that at Hogwarts, instead of turning around for your own safety, you had to go check it out.
And sure enough, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had beaten everyone to the scene.
In front of them, a chilling sight: the caretaker Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, hung by her tail from a torch bracket, stiff as a statue. Her glassy eyes were wide open, and her motionless body, reflected in the puddle below, looked like marble.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
Scrawled across the wall in large, dripping red letters were the words:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
"She's dead!" Filch wailed, having just arrived. He dropped to his knees beside his cat. "My poor Mrs. Norris! Murderers! I'll hang you all by your ankles!"
Students edged back nervously, fearing the caretaker might actually follow through with his threat.
Lockhart arrived, pushing through the crowd with his usual grandiosity and complete lack of usefulness.
"Everyone remain calm! This is clearly the work of… of Dark Magic! But fear not! I, Gilderoy Lockhart, have faced far worse horrors in the jungles of Yunnan—"
"Yeah, sure," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes. "Bet you fought it off with a magical comb."
Then, from the far end of the hallway, came a rhythmic noise: shhh-clack, shhh-clack…
It was Kronk, dragging an enormous toolbox and a janitor's cart that squeaked across the tiles with every turn.
"Stand back! Maintenance assistant on the move!" he called cheerfully. "What happened here? Another slime leak from Peeves' pranks in the third-floor bathrooms?"
He came to a halt when he saw the message on the wall.
"Graffiti again?" he huffed, shaking his head. "You lot know this doesn't clean itself, right?"
Before anyone could react, Kronk was already in motion. He pulled from his cart a shiny pressure hose with a cheerful beaver logo and connected it to a water valve that no one could quite locate. Without hesitation, he aimed it at the wall.
"Don't touch it!" McGonagall cried, reaching out.
"Uh?"
But Kronk had already turned on the hose.
A jet of high-pressure water hit the bloodstained words. The red slid away as if it had never been there, and within seconds, the wall was spotless.
The stones gleamed, and the hallway now smelled of citrus and eucalyptus.
"Kronk! That was evidence!" Snape hissed, eyes blazing.
"Evidence of what? That someone has terrible handwriting?" Kronk replied, raising an eyebrow.
Snape had no comeback. In fact, the handwriting had been a bit…
Filch was too busy sobbing over his cat to protest, but several professors stared in open disbelief.
And then, to make things even worse (or better), Kronk knelt beside the petrified Mrs. Norris. He pulled out a pufferfish-shaped sponge and a neon-labeled bottle of soap reading: Feline Bubbly™ — For Happy Fur and Rebellious Spells!
"Don't worry, this soap gets rid of everything," he whispered to her.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, stepping forward in horror.
"Emergency wash," Kronk said, focused. "I always carry one of these in case a Weasley twin's puffskein ends up near the kitchens."
He lathered the soap, which began to sparkle with magical energy, and gently but firmly scrubbed the stone cat from top to bottom. The sponge buzzed softly, resonating in the air.
Suddenly, the petrified cat sneezed.
Mrs. Norris blinked, shook her head, and hissed with her usual disdain.
"She's alive!" a student shouted. "She's alive!"
He was immediately smacked on the back of the head for being too loud.
"What… how…?" Filch stammered, cradling her tearfully.
"What kind of magic was that?" Flitwick asked in amazement as he rushed forward.
Kronk simply smiled and raised the bottle like a commercial presenter, gesturing dramatically.
"Special pet soap," he said, proudly. "Removes everything. Everything everything."
"Does that include Dark curses?" McGonagall asked, arms crossed.
"It also fights dandruff," Kronk added, completely serious.
"Can I read the label?" Hermione asked, stepping closer with academic curiosity.
Snape clicked his tongue—that bushy-haired Gryffindor had beaten him to it again!
Ten points from Gryffindor!
Kronk handed her the bottle, and she examined it closely.
"It says it contains 'sacred basil essence, dissolved unicorn hair extract, and essential oil from Tibetan monk feet'... Is that even real?"
"I dunno," Kronk shrugged. "But it smells nice, doesn't it?"
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest stared at him in disbelief.
"How did you know she was petrified?" Ron asked, realizing Kronk had arrived later than everyone else.
"I didn't. I just thought she was, like... really dirty," Kronk replied with a shrug. "Figured Filch forgot her daily bath or something."
Dumbledore appeared at the far end of the hall, surveying the scene with a mix of confusion and amusement.
"Well, looks like I'm late," he said calmly. "Kronk, solving problems without authorization again?"
"Yes, sir!" Kronk replied, giving a thumbs up and flashing perfectly white teeth.
Dumbledore gave a small smile.
"Carry on with your evenings, dear students," he addressed the crowd. "Mrs. Norris is safe, the message is gone, and it seems the professors have a meeting to attend. Good night, everyone."
With a swirl of his cloak, he turned and left.
Hermione turned to Harry.
"You know what the worst part is about Kronk using some questionable, possibly fictional soap made from dubious ingredients?"
"What?" Harry didn't see the problem—the cat was fine, wasn't she?
"That it worked."
"Oh…" Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, who twirled a finger at his temple, crossed his eyes, and stuck out his tongue behind her back.
Clearly, Hermione was overthinking things.
The soap worked, the cat was saved, and they could go back to bed.
And she had a problem with that? Yep, definitely stressed.