Two Many Suspects (Elijah's POV)
“He saw my Kwikspell letter!” Filch kept on, accusing Harry of the horrendous act.
“If I might speak, Headmaster.” Snape finally spoke up, a slight sneer crossing his face. Elijah’s fingers tightened on the back of Hermione’s chair. “Perhaps Potter and his friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But, why were they in the upstairs corridor at all instead of at the feast?”
“You hadn’t been at the feast very long.” Ryan apparently couldn’t hold her tongue. “I’d just made it to the Great Hall when I ran into Harry and them leaving Sir Nicholas’ deathday party.”
Snape’s sneer deepened. “I did, however, see Mr. Holmes leaving the feast in a hurry-”
“I’d gotten sick.” Elijah lied quickly. “Too much candy.”
“But why go up that corridor at all?” Snape pressed.
“Because I was tired and wanted to go to bed.” Harry said.
“Without eating?”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
Almost right on cue, Ryan’s, Ron’s, and Harry’s stomachs all growled loudly. Snape’s sneer turned into a nasty smile. “I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter and Holmes aren’t not being entirely truthful,” he said. “It might be a good idea if they were deprived of certain privileges until they are ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel Potter should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest-
“Really, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall sharply, interrupting him. “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong.”
“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus.” Dumbledore said, his voice firm.
Snape’s smile faded into a dark, furious scowl. Filch’s veins bulged out even more. “My cat has been Petrified!” he shrieked, his eyes popping. “I want to see some punishment!”
“We will be able to cure her, Argus,” said Dumbledore patiently. “Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris.”
“I’ll make it,” Lockhart butted in. “I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep —”
“Excuse me,” said Snape icily. “But I believe I am the Potions master at this school.”
There was a very awkward pause. Ryan let out another snort at Lockhart’s pouting expression.
“You may go,” Dumbledore said to the five students.
They scattered as soon as they left the office, and Elijah flopped down on his bed, mind racing. There was something going on, and this time, it wasn’t just revolving around Harry. “What happened?” Justin and Ernie asked.
“Filch’s cat got petrified apparently.” He said, his voice shaking slightly. “And Dumbledore doesn’t know how.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Yeah.”
Naturally, the attack on Mrs. Norris had the entire school on edge. Ron’s little sister seemed especially disturbed. Ryan and Hermione, however, were spending more time in the library than usual, as was most of the student body. Elijah went through the next week on edge and barely sleeping, terrified he’d hear that voice again.
He and Oscar were heading to the library to finish an essay on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards when they bumped into Justin, looking pale as he darted away from Harry. “What’s that about?” Oscar whispered.
“No idea.” Elijah replied. “Come on, let’s finish this.”
“I can’t believe I forgot my copy.” Hermione was complaining to Ron and Ryan. “Every single copy has been checked out.”
“I can write James to send mine.” Ryan offered.
“Please do.”
“Ignoring the homework?” Elijah joked, walking up to the group.
“We’re already done.” Hermione sniffed. “Except Ron and Harry, of course. I just wish I could remember what Hogwarts, a History said about the Chamber of Secrets.”
“Right. Elijah sat down at the table. “Well, I’ve only got until lunch to do this.”
“And I just need to read through mine.” Oscar said down beside him, their legs bumping under the table.
Elijah felt his face heat up and he quickly started writing, wondering why he was suddenly embarrassed.
History of Magic was more boring than usual, and Elijah actually fell asleep ten minutes in. He was roughly shaken awake by Justin Finch-Fletchley, who kept looking repeatedly at the door. “Come on, Holmes, let’s go before Potter gets here.”
Elijah yawned and grabbed his bag, following his fellow classmate to Transfiguration. “What’s the rush?” He asked as Justin nearly ran.
“Don’t want to be caught in the halls, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
Justin finally stopped. “I’m not taking any chances running into him. I’m an idiot for letting it slip that I’m….you know.”
“Muggle-born?” Elijah asked, his brain still somewhere asleep.
“Yes.” Justin shushed him. “Come on, Elijah.”
“Wait.” His brain finally started working. “You think Potter’s Slytherin’s heir?”
“Obviously. Who else could it be?”
Elijah’s stomach dropped. Harry wasn’t the only one hearing voices. Could he have attacked Mrs. Norris without knowing it? “Right. Of course.” He said weakly, sitting down when they got to their class.
He barely listened to McGonagall as she lectured them, the scratching of their quills nearly lulling him back to sleep, but he fought the urge. Surely it wasn’t either one of them. But who could it be? He glanced at Ryan, then...Malfoy? He definitely didn’t hide the fact he hated Muggle-borns. And he’d be okay trying to blame Potter for this.
After another useless DADA lesson, which he did end up sleeping through, he ran up to Gryffindor Tower before he realized he had no idea how to get inside. “Oh, hey.” Neville was also headed that way. “Need someone?”
“Yeah, just to talk to Potter for a second.”
Neville let him in, where he found the trio sitting alone, Ron slamming a textbook shut. “Hey, what’re you doing in here?” Ron’s older brother, one of Gryffindor’s prefects, noticed him.
“Sorry, Weasley. Just have to get the notes from Charms from Granger. No one in my house took any last class.”
The older Weasley frowned. “Make it quick. You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Yeah, I will.”
He quickly sat down by Hermione. “I’ve got a theory.” He said as she also shut her book. “Who could it be, though?” She asked quietly. “Oh, go ahead, Elijah.”
“I mean, it’s pretty obvious, right? It’s got to be Malfoy, if it’s not me and it’s not Potter.”
“I don’t know.” She sounded unconvinced.
“Herimone, you heard him that night- ‘you’ll be next, mudbloods.’” Ron pointed out. “You’ve only got to look at his foul, rat face to know it’s him.”
“And the whole lot of his family’s been in Slytherin; he’s always boasting about it.” Harry added before she could say anything. “They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants.”
Elijah nodded. “Yeah, Malfoy senior probably passed the key down to Malfoy.”
“Well, it could be possible.” Hermione finally agreed.
“But how do we prove it?” Harry asked, thinking. “Ryan’s in Slytherin. Think she’ll help?”
Elijah shrugged. “She’s Malfoy’s cousin, so I’ve no idea. I know they usually get along.”
“There might be another way,” Hermione said slowly, dropping her voice to a whisper with a quick glance across the room at Percy. “Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We’d be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect —”
“Care to explain this century?” Ron asked, irritated with his friend.
“Polyjuice Potion, Ronald. Professor Snape was talking about it in class the other day.”
“You think I don’t have anything better to do than listen to Snape?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, continuing. “It transforms you into someone else for a little while. But he said it was in Most Potente Potions and I’m fairly certain that book is in the restricted section of the library.”
“So how do we get it?” Elijah asked, looking at the three.
“Trick a teacher into signing off on the form.” Hermione said. “Unless we make it sound like we only want to read it for theoretical purposes, I’m not sure we can get the signature.”
“Lockhart’s a bloody idiot. Try asking him.” Elijah said bluntly. “You get the book, let me know.”
“You’ve been in here long enough, Holmes. Out before I take five points from Hufflepuff!”
Elijah got up and left, sticking his tongue out at the older Weasley before climbing out of the portrait hole.