A group of people entered Lockhart's dimly lit office.
Soon after, a commotion ensued, and several paintings of Lockhart hanging on the wall seemed to flee from their frames. Meanwhile, the real Lockhart lit the candle on the table and retreated backward with a trace of excitement still lingering on his face.
Ron and Filch were placed in the middle of the office, still maintaining their wrestling position. Ron appeared to want to escape, but Filch had him by the wrist, leaving him immobile. Together, they stared at the ground, their eyes brimmed with terror.
"Meow—"
Mrs. Loris dashed out from the corner, standing upright and clawing desperately at Filch's legs. Unfortunately, her owner could no longer respond as he usually would. Dumbledore stood in front of Ron, his crooked long nose almost touching the boy's face, as the old man pondered over the boy intently behind his half-moon spectacles. After a while, he finally straightened up—
"It must be a charm that killed them—such a pity, Filch was a good caretaker, dutifully cleaning the classrooms... Ron Weasley was a good... uh, little wizard..." Lockhart put on a pained expression, "I remember a very similar incident in Ouagadougou," he continued, "a series of attacks detailed in my autobiography. At the time, I provided all sorts of protective talismans to the people, quickly resolving the problem..."
"They're not dead, Lockhart—even a fool can see that," Snape's impatient voice came from the shadows of the office.
"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore said, "they've been petrified—"
"Ah, I was thinking the same. Actually, in another of my autobiographies..." Lockhart promptly said.
"So, Albus, what's going on here?" Professor McGonagall interrupted Lockhart's impending diatribe.
"Perhaps we should consult the two witnesses at the scene—"
Snape's sinister voice sounded as he emerged from the shadows, leading everyone, including Mrs. Loris who crouched by Dumbledore's feet, towards the opposite side of the office—where the candlelight couldn't reach. Three little wizards were sitting upright...
Wait, three?
Looking at the additional figure that shouldn't have been there, Snape gritted his teeth, "William Richard—why are you here?"
"Uh-oh, caught... cough, cough, actually I'm the victim's family..."
"Oh? I didn't know you had relatives with the Weasley Family—"
"...a friend." William clapped his hands, and Mrs. Loris cooperatively came over, weakly rubbing against William's leg.
"..."
Watching the cat that never took to anyone besides Filch curling next to William's foot, Snape took a deep breath.
"Professor, surely you wouldn't want to see a little undernourished cat, with its owner in trouble, still forced to follow you around, right? So, I brought her over... Professor, could you really be so heartless?"
Placing Mrs. Loris on his lap, William shook his head, beginning a moral coercion.
Snape's vision darkened, his morality may have been sparse, but not entirely absent.
"Pfft—"
Seeing Snape unable to retort with a defeated expression, Harry couldn't hold back his laughter. The sound of air leaking resonated near his mouth. While remaining silent might have been better, Snape now seemed to have found an outlet, immediately shifting his target—
"Perhaps we should question Potter—and his friend Miss Granger, why they appeared there at that time, why they went to the upper corridor, and why they missed the Halloween feast?"
"We went to the deathday party—Nearly Headless Nick hosted a banquet... Hundreds of ghosts attended, Nick, Sir Fatty, Peeves, they can all attest to our presence there—" Harry and Hermione hastily explained.
"But what about afterward, why not come to the feast?" Snape pressed, his dark eyes gleaming in the candlelight, his sallow complexion appearing pale, "Why up to the corridor? Why..."
"I must remind you, Severus—Harry and Miss Granger are friends of Weasley. I believe it's impossible for them to be responsible," Professor McGonagall interjected, beside whom Harry and Hermione cast grateful glances.
"Of course, I'm simply asking Mr. Potter—why?" Snape persisted, repeating himself once more.
Hermione instinctively glanced at Harry, William noticed and also looked over—
"I, we... We wanted..." Harry hesitated, then noticed the boy at the back of the group staring at the floor, "We wanted to find Ron, as he promised to join us at the deathday party, but eventually, he wasn't there—"
For some reason, Harry entirely avoided mentioning the sinister voice.
"Why not come to the hall?"
"We went to the hall, but didn't..."
"Lies!" Snape loudly interrupted Harry's weak defense, his unpleasant smile becoming more pronounced, "I think, Headmaster, Mr. Potter clearly isn't being truthful, I believe we ought to take some measures to punish him, such as removing him from the Quidditch team..."
"That's rather ugly, Professor." William interjected appropriately, "Even without Potter, Slytherin might not win the match—"
An uncomfortable silence ensued.
"...It's not your place to speak, out, Richard!" Snape nearly roared.
"Freedom of speech, Professor." William muttered loudly, casting his gaze towards the silent Dumbledore.
Two pairs of blue eyes met each other.
"Mr. Richard may stay, Severus," Dumbledore finally halted the dispute, "As he just said, he's a friend of the victim's family."
William "arrogantly" lifted Mrs. Loris.
"Then, Potter—he must be punished!" Snape hadn't given up.
"No evidence suggests Potter is at fault—" Professor McGonagall interrupted again.
"Isn't he..."
"Without evidence proving him guilty, he remains innocent." Dumbledore shook his head, softly closing the debate, "Professor Sprout has recently obtained some Mandrakes. Once matured, we'll have a potion to revive them."
"I can prepare it," Lockhart interjected, "I must have prepared it a hundred times, I can brew the Mandrake reviving potion in my sleep—"
Where did he get so many Mandrakes, from robbing the Ministry of Magic?
William was puzzled why Dumbledore hadn't expelled this foolish braggart. Could it be the old man was not only deaf but blind as well?
"Perhaps, Minerva, you'd be willing to help us get Argus and Weasley to the hospital wing, hand them over to Ms. Pomfrey—" Dumbledore blatantly ignored Lockhart, addressing Professor McGonagall, "If Mr. Weasley's parents come, you may direct them to my office."
"I can assist, Professor, happens to be on my way." William stood up holding Mrs. Loris, without waiting for refusal, he flicked his wand—"Wingardium Leviosa—"
In the next moment, Ron floated up shakily.
"...Alright, mind your magic output." Professor McGonagall nodded, conveniently treating this as an extracurricular tutorial on the Levitating Spell.
William followed Professor McGonagall out of Lockhart's office, soon finding Ms. Pomfrey still on duty, as they settled the petrified pair, Professor McGonagall stepped outside to brief Ms. Pomfrey, leaving William alone in the infirmary—
"..."
Watching thoughtfully, the two people lying side by side on a large makeshift bed (since Filch held too tightly, Dumbledore ordered not to forcibly separate them), William hesitated then retreated two steps, "Diary, Accio—"
"Whoosh—"
A dark mass flew out from Ron's pants.
"Damn!"
Initially intending to catch it, William swiftly sidestepped—why would someone stash a diary in their pants?