Previously called TWO OF THE SAME
❝ It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. ❞
Living with her godmother, Dorcas Meadows, and her uncle, Remus Lupin, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 lives a pretty good life. That's unt...
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"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE? WHAT'S GOING on?"
Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.
"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?" he shrieked.
His popping eyes fell on Harry and Harper, who nervously shuffled back upon seeing the pure rage on his face.
"You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"
"Argus!"
Harper sighed in relief when Dumbledore arrived on scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept by Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harper, and detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You too, Mr and Miss Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.
"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free . . ."
"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said.
The silent crowd parted to let them pass and the four of them followed Dumbledore to Lockhart's office.
As they entered Lockhart's darkened office, there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harper saw several of the Lockhart's in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back.
Dumbledore laid Mrs Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harper exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.
The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs Norris' fur. 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.
