Chapter 183: The Furious Professor McGonagall
Last time Filch was hung on the outer wall of the castle, William had been a direct participant but hadn't actually seen it. This time, however, he saw it with his own two eyes.
There were no ropes or any other bindings on Filch; he was pressed firmly against the outer wall, supported solely by his feet hooked onto the tiny ledge of the windowsill. Without a doubt, Filch had been petrified again.
'Which bastard did this?'
William was getting a little angry—hanging someone from a windowsill was playing with their life. It was tantamount to murder.
But anger was one thing; he could still control his emotions.
He couldn't just go around wrongly accusing a student without finding the perpetrator first, could he?
Glancing at the spectating students nearby, William dismissed the idea of using a Summoning Charm. At this height, bringing the man down only for the students to gawk at him would be a second injury to Filch's pride.
Considering that these students would just drag their feet and continue to watch no matter how he tried to disperse them, William sighed and took out a cloth strip.
'This is an emergency. A little embarrassment is a small price to pay…'
He took a quick two-step run, cast a Levitation Charm on himself to reduce his weight, and rapidly threw the cloth strip toward the upper edge of the lowest floor's windowsill. One end of the strip instantly stuck firmly to the stone. With a tug, his entire body shot toward the other end of the strip.
As he neared it, William planted a foot on the windowsill, cast another Levitation Charm on himself, and with a flick of his wrist, the cloth strip retracted and shot out again, latching onto the floor above. After a few leaps, he approached the floor where Filch was located.
He cast a Shield Charm on Filch, then another spell to shatter the window. William dove inside in a fluid motion, and with a wave of his wand, Filch floated in right behind him.
"My Summoning Charm is still not proficient enough—otherwise, I could have handled this from down on the castle grounds."
William muttered, critiquing his own performance while trying hard not to recall the awkward window-climbing spectacle he had just put on.
This was a rope-pulling technique for flying broomsticks he had developed during his training over the Black Lake. He had no choice; though he couldn't learn to fly properly, he still had to practice.
But while a person could be easily dried off after falling into the water, a flying broomstick soaked in water wasn't a problem that a simple spell could solve. Without proper maintenance, the brooms borrowed from the school would quickly break.
Moreover, a waterlogged broom severely affected subsequent practice. So, he had combined Transfiguration to develop this technique. When he lost control of the broom, he could just use the strip to snag it before it fell. And if he was quick enough, he wouldn't even have to take a dip in the Black Lake himself.
'It does look a bit ugly, though—'
William still had a basic sense of aesthetics. He had seen plenty of martial arts films—his use of a cloth strip looked even worse than the wire work...
'I can't slack off on my basic magic practice either. If I had more precise control from the castle grounds, would I have needed to do that?'
After catching his breath, William pointed his wand at Filch and began to inspect the magic affecting him—it wasn't Dark Magic, just an ordinary Petrification Charm.
"Thank goodness. The perpetrator was probably just trying to imitate, not surpass, the original. Otherwise, today's trouble would have been much, much greater."
With a wave of his wand, the Petrification Charm was lifted. Filch's roar exploded almost instantly.
"Bastard! Expulsion, expulsion, expulsion!"
"Of course, expulsion."
William had no objection. The Weasley Twins, at least, had been under someone's control. This culprit was clearly a copycat. If the school didn't expel someone for mimicking an act like this, what was the point of having school rules?
"If you're alright, we should go see Professor McGonagall now. The Headmaster isn't here today—" William looked at Filch, who was still lying down, trying to judge the extent of his injuries. "But who attacked you, Filch?"
"I don't know," Filch said, calming down slightly as he sat up and began to recall the events. "Mrs. Norris told me there was a disturbance in the secret passage on the fourth floor, so I rushed over. But just as I entered the passage, I was attacked from behind!"
"This was a premeditated attack! It was murder!"
Filch's voice was filled with rage, but William could completely understand the caretaker's feelings.
"Of course, it was a premeditated attack. They used a sound to lure you, ambushed you with magic, and then—carried out an extremely dangerous, pre-planned operation."
Considering the man's emotional state, William chose his words carefully to be less provocative.
"We need to find Professor McGonagall, gather the students, and then investigate the scene of the attack for clues," William said, extending a hand to Filch on the floor. "If you're up to it, let's go together. This is far beyond the scope of a prank. A copycat like this must be expelled."
—
William knocked on the door to Professor McGonagall's office.
"Come in."
Professor McGonagall, who had been buried in her work, looked up from a pile of documents. "Professor William, has Harry remembered something else?"
'Harry?'
William paused for a second, realizing he had apparently left the student in an empty classroom.
But that wasn't a big problem. This was still within the school grounds. Besides, if something bad happened every time a professor wasn't watching, Hogwarts might as well change its name to Hogwarts Prison—even Azkaban wasn't that absurd...
"It's not about Harry, it's about Filch..." William walked in quickly, the furious Filch following behind him.
"What is it, Mr. Filch?"
"Murder!" Filch snarled through gritted teeth. "A premeditated murder, Professor!"
His face had turned a purplish-red with fury. "A student set a trap and attacked me, then hung me on the outer castle wall, exactly like last time!"
"Exactly the same?"
Professor McGonagall's eyes turned icy. "They set a trap and did it just like last time?"
A snapping sound came from the quill Professor McGonagall was clutching, and the ink that had been magically drawn to it flooded her right hand.
"Who did it?"
The Professor's voice was calm, but the air in the room inexplicably grew several degrees colder.
"I'm not sure yet, Professor—" Filch's tone held a hint of grievance. "I only know that I was attacked in the secret passage on the fourth floor."
"Very good. Very good. They've even learned to set traps."
Professor McGonagall's tone was devoid of emotion. She flicked her right hand, and the ink vanished instantly. Only then did she draw her wand.
With a wave of her wand, a transparent tabby cat landed lightly on her desk and then dashed swiftly out the door.
"Professor William, Mr. Filch, you two go and investigate the scene first. I will have the portraits go and assist you," Professor McGonagall said while glancing at a portrait in her office. "Please help me summon the Prefects here, all of them. And notify them to have all students not in class return to their Common Rooms."
Seeing Professor McGonagall enter this furious state, William didn't even consider asking questions. He and Filch immediately took their leave—catching the culprit was the priority. Besides, the office really was getting a bit cold...
(end of chapter)