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Chapter 126
The cold and arrogant attitude of the others made Filch feel utterly sick. He knew very well—in their eyes, what difference was there between a Squib like him and Mrs. Norris?
The pain stabbed deep into his heart, but he was only a Squib, powerless to resist.
"We can cure her, Filch," Dumbledore said patiently. "Professor Sprout has recently grown a batch of mandrakes. Once they mature, I can prepare a potion to reverse petrification. Mrs. Norris will recover with it."
"I'll brew the potion," Lockhart interrupted again. "I've done it over a hundred times. I could even take a nap while making a Mandrake Restorative Draught."
"I'm afraid," Snape said coldly, "that I am the Potions master at this school."
Silence fell over the room.
"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George.
At last, it was over. Harry was safe. He staggered slightly as he walked out of Lockhart's office.
"I can't believe it—that bastard Snape actually tried to pin something this serious on me," Harry said, still in disbelief. No matter how much he hated Snape, the man was still his teacher.
Last year, they had offended Snape—but now it seemed they hadn't done anything at all. If Snape ever had the chance, Harry had no doubt he would do something truly terrible. He had no bottom line—he was practically a devil.
"Luckily he didn't succeed," Hermione said, trying to comfort him. "Thankfully, the other professors are reasonable."
"Thanks, George," Harry said sincerely. "You stood up for me when Snape was trying to trap me."
George patted Harry on the shoulder. "If you hate Snape, then become stronger. I look forward to the day, two years from now, when you can completely ignore his threats."
"Of course—I'll defeat Voldemort's followers," Harry said without hesitation.
To be honest, the most fundamental rule of this world was power. Right now, Snape was stronger than him—that's why he could be slandered and framed without reason.
And George and Professor McGonagall were stronger than Snape—that's why they could ignore him, even confront him directly.
As for Dumbledore, the strongest of all—just a single word from him could decide Harry's fate.
Even Filch wanted to torment him, but no one cared what a powerless Squib had to say.
"Do you think I should tell them about the voice I heard?" Harry asked hesitantly. He still trusted McGonagall and Dumbledore. If there was a monster threatening the school, they had the right to know.
"Don't," Ron said immediately. "Hearing voices no one else can hear is not a good thing—especially in the wizarding world."
Ron still believed Harry should just focus on school, wait peacefully for the holidays, and stay out of trouble. Getting involved in mysterious events never ended well.
"I think we can tell Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "She's trustworthy. She may be strict, but she genuinely cares about students."
"You can tell them," George said unexpectedly, "but I suspect they already know."
"They already know?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked shocked.
"Don't underestimate adults—especially professors," George said. "Sure, everyone grows older, even fools. But do you really think Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore were like Crabbe and Goyle when they were kids?"
He deliberately kept the tone light, not wanting to put too much pressure on them. The safety of the school wasn't something that should rest on their shoulders.
Harry thought for a moment. "Dumbledore might have been like you when he was young… and Professor McGonagall might have been more like Hermione."
Ron nodded immediately. "And Snape was definitely like Malfoy."
"Then who is Lockhart?" Hermione asked curiously.
Being compared to McGonagall made her feel it was quite fitting. George was clearly growing into a great wizard, much like Dumbledore. Snape was practically a living Malfoy.
So the question remained—who was Lockhart?
"Not me," Harry said at once.
"Definitely not me either," Ron added quickly.
Neither of them wanted anything to do with Lockhart.
"Hahaha!"
They burst into laughter. The heavy tension from the office finally lifted.
"Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall have always been extremely sharp," George said seriously. "After so many years, their experience and ability are far beyond ours."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all nodded solemnly. "Yeah… we really underestimated the professors."
"When Dumbledore and McGonagall were examining the cat, they were acting," George suddenly revealed.
"They were acting?" The three of them were stunned.
They had been right there, yet all they felt was anxiety. Snape had brought fear, McGonagall reassurance, and Dumbledore calm—but they hadn't noticed anything unusual.
George's words made them realize that although they had been present, they hadn't truly seen anything.
"When I was in the corridor, I could already tell the cat had been petrified from a distance," George explained. "Even though I've never personally studied petrification magic, the effect is so distinctive that there's no need for repeated examination."
His confidence also came from the state of the wizarding world itself—it was still far from a flourishing era. The magical world was too small, too uniform, with too few wizards and too little innovation.
The spells taught in school were the same ones everyone used. A well-known dark spell like petrification could be recognized instantly by experienced wizards.
"Dumbledore and McGonagall's acting was honestly terrible," George added bluntly. "Their 'inspection' was completely superficial."
Then he shifted the topic.
"Do you remember Malfoy?" he asked. "What was he doing in the corridor?"
He wanted them to think for themselves, not just listen.
(To be continued…)