"That's a bold design," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he examined the red-and-white ball's basic mechanism. "Quite ingenious. It reminds me of an old friend who passed away not long ago."
A rare hint of nostalgia crossed Dumbledore's face. "His approach to design was entirely different, but I think he would've liked to meet you. He'd have been fond of your creativity."
"Just a little trick, nothing worth mentioning," Dudley replied humbly.
Snape, standing nearby, tilted his head up with a trace of pride, as if he'd personally molded Dudley into the wizard he was—though, to be fair, he wasn't entirely wrong.
Dumbledore's gaze then shifted to a thriving Mandrake plant. "Perhaps I know another little friend who'd take a liking to you. I'll have to introduce you sometime."
Magical creatures and magical plants always went hand in paw, after all.
"It'd be my honor, Professor Dumbledore," Dudley said.
With the Mandrake in hand, brewing a potion to reverse petrification wasn't exactly a high-level challenge. In no time, they'd concocted the potion. Just two drops, and the stone-hard fur on Mrs. Norris began to soften. A few more drops, and her body grew pliable, warmth returning to her limbs.
"Not quite up to my standards, mind you, but still impressive work," Lockhart boasted shamelessly, prattling on as if anyone cared. No one did—not even Filch.
"The petrification's undone," Dumbledore said, his tone shifting to one of concern. "But what kind of creature could've petrified Mrs. Norris? Having something like that wandering Hogwarts… that's far from safe."
The word "safe" carried a hint of irony. Dumbledore still remembered assuring Dudley that Hogwarts was the safest place in the world.
"It's got to be a Medusa," Lockhart declared, launching into one of his self-aggrandizing tales. "I came across one during my adventures in Armenia, you know. I also subdued a werewolf there—mentioned it in my book, Wandering with Werewolves. If I hadn't been quick on my feet…"
Even in a room full of professors, Lockhart couldn't resist fishing for attention while plugging his books.
His theory wasn't entirely baseless—Medusas did have petrifying abilities. But England wasn't exactly their natural habitat. Those creatures were a Greek specialty, and even the diverse Forbidden Forest wasn't likely to house one.
If it wasn't a Medusa, though, what could it be?
The professors racked their brains, stumped. Even Dumbledore couldn't pin down an answer.
One thing was certain: a dangerous creature was lurking around Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall hadn't seen it, which left Mrs. Norris as the only witness to its true form.
Surely they couldn't just ask Mrs. Norris.
Or could they? Dumbledore's thoughts drifted to a certain someone.
"Mrs. Norris says… she saw a giant snake," Dudley announced suddenly, breaking the silence.
"What?" His words caught everyone off guard.
Even Lockhart paused.
"Mrs. Norris says it was a massive snake—huge, practically filling the entire corridor," Dudley repeated, feeding a "tasty dried fish" to Mrs. Norris. The poor cat, freshly unpetrified, perked up a bit with the treat.
"You're saying you understand cat language?" Professor Flitwick asked, not doubting Dudley but wanting confirmation. After all, this was a second-year wizard capable of wandless magic.
"Didn't I mention?" Dudley said casually, holding up his thumb and forefinger in a tiny gap. "I know a little cat language. Just enough to get the gist of what Mrs. Norris is saying."
"That's remarkable," Dumbledore said with genuine admiration.
Dudley shrugged. "It's nothing compared to you, Professor. Don't you speak Mermish and Gobbledegook?"
To be precise, Dumbledore's linguistic talents went beyond Mermish and Gobbledegook. He could even understand Parseltongue, though he couldn't speak it.
"Snake!" Lockhart seized on the keyword. "See? I told you it's a Medusa!" With a head full of snakes, what else could it be? Case closed.
Dudley stood up, addressing the other professors. "I don't think it's a Medusa. Their snakes are small and numerous. Mrs. Norris said this snake was bigger than the corridor itself."
A thousand-year-old Basilisk… how could a mere Medusa compare?
"Don't be ridiculous," Lockhart scoffed, flashing his signature toothy grin. "A snake that big? It's just a cat, Dursley. What does it know about 'big'? It probably just thought it was big."
Before Dudley could respond, Filch bristled. "Mrs. Norris is smart! She doesn't lie, and she doesn't make mistakes!"
Filch was usually strict with students but respectful toward professors. Insult him all you want, but insult his cat? That was crossing a line. Mrs. Norris was his only companion.
"Dudley, what do you think it is?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring Lockhart entirely. The other professors turned their attention to Dudley as well.
Under their collective gaze, Dudley spoke slowly. "A giant snake-like magical creature. Professor Dumbledore, I think the answer's obvious."
There weren't many famous magical snakes, and even fewer with petrifying abilities.
"A Basilisk," Dudley said. "It's a Basilisk."
"That's even more absurd," Lockhart countered, desperate to prove himself right. "Basilisks are rarer than Medusas. You might as well claim it's Slytherin's own thousand-year-old Basilisk!"
The portraits of Lockhart on the walls nodded in agreement with his words. Breeding a Basilisk was no small feat, let alone one that massive.
"Besides," Lockhart added, "a Basilisk's gaze kills. That cat was only petrified."
Dudley responded calmly. "What if Mrs. Norris saw the Basilisk's eyes indirectly, through a puddle of water on the floor? That would explain why she was petrified instead of killed."
Mrs. Norris nodded frantically, meowing in agreement.
The professors exchanged glances, their heads spinning. Medusa or Basilisk—both seemed far-fetched. Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in the world. How could something like this… wait. Didn't a few trolls sneak in last year?