"It's time to act!"
Hearing that, Harry immediately thought the voice was about to kill someone. He ran toward the sound without hesitation.
The others exchanged glances and decided to follow.
Harry came to a corridor and noticed damp streaks on the floor — traces of some creature having crawled through. He followed the trail, and along the way saw the castle's spiders scurrying in the opposite direction, fleeing outward.
At the end of the wet trail, he found a horrifying sight: a message scrawled on the wall in blood.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware!"
Hanging from a nearby torch bracket was Filch's cat — Mrs. Norris.
When Arthur had watched Harry Potter as a kid, he hadn't thought much of it. But now, thinking about it, who the hell names their cat Mrs. Anything? Did Filch really… think of her as his wife?
By then, most of the students had finished dinner and were passing through the corridor on their way back to their dorms.
And so, they saw the terrifying scene before them: Harry crouched near a wall scrawled in blood, and a seemingly lifeless cat hanging beside him.
The corridor erupted into noise. Some whispered that Harry must be the Heir mentioned in the message — he'd written the words and hadn't escaped before being caught.
Others, who trusted Harry more, believed he had simply stumbled upon the scene.
Naturally, no one suspected Arthur and the others. They'd only left the Great Hall a bit earlier than everyone else.
Especially the Ravenclaws — when they saw Ranni standing next to Arthur, they all bowed their heads quickly, terrified of drawing her attention.
Colin even wanted to snap a photo — his angle could have captured the blood writing, Harry, and Mrs. Norris all in one shot. Unfortunately, Percy stopped him. Otherwise, that picture could have sold for a fortune at The Daily Prophet.
Draco had been ready to sneer at Harry — but when he noticed Arthur and Ranni standing behind him, he shut his mouth and decided to observe quietly instead.
Arthur, on the other hand, was utterly speechless.
Harry could look at the message, sure, but did he have to get that close? He was nearsighted, yes, but he was wearing glasses. If his prescription's too weak, just get new lenses! Staring like that only makes it worse!
And that basilisk — seriously? It crawled out, made all that noise, and the only thing it managed to attack was a cat? And even then, it only petrified it through indirect sight.
Mrs. Norris was now hanging stiffly from a torch bracket. Arthur wasn't even sure if that part was done by the basilisk or the poor student being manipulated by Voldemort.
If it was the basilisk… then that snake was just bored out of its mind.
Filch arrived soon after, shoving through the crowd. The moment he looked up, he froze — and then snapped.
"Potter! You killed my cat! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
Filch lunged, hands closing around Harry's throat.
Arthur casually flicked a finger, and a Radiant Meteor struck Filch's wrist.
Filch yelped in pain and let go. Harry stumbled back and hid behind Arthur.
"Mr. Filch, please calm down," Arthur said evenly. "Your cat isn't dead. She's only petrified."
Filch froze mid-rant. "Arthur… are you sure?"
"Of course."
"You have a way to fix her, don't you? Help me! You've always been good with Mrs. Norris — please save her!"
Arthur almost choked. Good with her? He just liked petting cats, okay? He'd pet any Hogwarts cat he ran into.
(Well… except for Professor McGonagall in cat form. That, he wouldn't dare.)
He sighed, reached into his pocket dimension, and pulled out a humanoid-shaped plant tuber about the size of a rugby ball. He handed it to Filch.
The surrounding students gasped — where had he even pulled that from?
It was a mature mandrake root, capable of curing petrification — something Arthur had "borrowed" from Herbology class.
He did that often. Whenever Professor Sprout taught, he'd sneak a few samples into his Zen Garden. Since he could control the garden's time flow, the plants matured quickly.
A few days later, he'd just replant and grow replacements — better ones, even — before discreetly returning them.
Professor Sprout, though baffled that some plants vanished after every class only to reappear days later in even healthier condition, decided not to question her good fortune. In fact, she'd started hoping her stock would mysteriously disappear more often.
Arthur simply couldn't stand seeing a cat suffer, so he gave Filch the mandrake root without a second thought.
Just then, the professors arrived.
"Argus, what's happened here?" asked Dumbledore, stepping forward.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, Arthur said my cat's been petrified! He gave me this thing to cure her — can you see if it's real?" Filch handed the mandrake root over.
Arthur scowled. If you don't trust me, why ask me to help in the first place?
Fine. He'd send a letter to Aunt Granger and get some premium catnip and cat grass seeds. Let's see which human Mrs. Norris preferred then.
The instant Dumbledore saw the mandrake root, recognition flickered in his eyes — yes, that could indeed reverse petrification.
He didn't answer Filch right away, instead glancing around to understand the situation. His eyes then fell upon the blood-written message.
"All students, return to your dormitories immediately!" Dumbledore ordered, then turned to Harry's group. "Except for you few."
Once the corridor cleared, he said to Filch, "Argus, Arthur was right. Mrs. Norris has only been petrified. This mandrake root is more than enough to revive her."
Before Dumbledore could continue, Lockhart puffed up his chest.
"Ah! I knew it! Such a shame I wasn't here earlier — she never would've been petrified! By the way, why don't you hand me that mandrake root? I just so happen to know the precise potion recipe to cure petrification!"
Every professor turned to stare at him, expressions flat and skeptical.
Dumbledore smoothly changed the subject. "By the way, Arthur, may I ask where you got this mandrake root?"
He was curious — Filch's cat had been petrified mere minutes ago, yet Arthur just happened to have a perfect cure on hand.
"As Professor Snape's apprentice, carrying some herbs is only natural, isn't it?" Arthur said lazily. He wasn't about to bother with a real explanation.
That single sentence, however, sent a ripple of surprise through the professors.
Snape — that cold, unapproachable man — already had a disciple? And this disciple was Arthur, a prodigious wizard?
Unacceptable! They'd all had the same idea — to wait and recruit a promising student or two in a couple of years. And now Snape had beaten them to it.
Every professor's expression soured. They all turned toward Snape, silently begging him to deny it.
Snape simply inclined his head, acknowledging it with cool composure.
In truth, he and Arthur had more of a mentor-and-friend relationship. But the others didn't know that.
Seeing Snape's confirmation made their hearts ache with regret.
Especially Professor McGonagall. One of her Gryffindor students, and such a talented one at that, had become the apprentice of the head of Slytherin!
What kind of cosmic joke was that?
Wait— Hermione Granger, standing beside Arthur… She was quite the bright one too.
No, actually… maybe both of them were.
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