Writing On The Wall
To make matters worse, he heard it once more, "Let me tear you, let me kill you.... I smell blood, I SMELL BLOOD."
Though the now so much louder hisses couldn't drown out Sciurus' frantic cries for help.
"What is the matter, what's going on", came Snape's sharp voice as the teachers made their way there, along with a crowd of curious students.
He just realised the terror his face was morphed into, though he didn't care.
"It's Crystalline, there's something wrong with her, we don't know", Delphinus said, panicked.
It was rare for them to panic and worry, but when one of their own was attacked, it was a whole other matter entirely.
Despite their frantic concern, the three of them were out for blood, made clear by the momentary homicidal expression that had flickered on their faces.
Dumbledore tore through the crowd that had gathered around them.
The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Catulus' skin.
He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking.
Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile.
And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.
"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her..."
Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Catulus with his wand but nothing happened.
She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.
"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart,
"a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once..."
But he was silenced by Sciurus' harsh glare.
At last Dumbledore straightened up.
"She's not dead" he said softly.
"Not dead", Delphinus said, his voice and eyes shining with hope.
"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say..."
"She'll be okay won't she, Professor", he couldn't help but ask, his voice cracking with emotions.
"Yes she will. Professor Sprout has conveniently obtained some mandrakes.
I assure you, once the mandrakes are fully mature, Madam Pomfrey will be able to brew the mandrake draught and cure her", Professor Dumbledore said, soothingly.
"However, I must ask, do you three know anything about this", McGonagall asked.
He thought about the phantom voice hissing murder, looking at Hermione and Ron's subtle warning look, he shook his head.
"No Professor", he replied.
Most of the professors seemed to believe him, with the exception of Snape, going by his penetrating.
"Are you sure Potter", Snape asked suspiciously.
"Yes, I'm sure, sir", he replied with all the politeness he could muster.