Chapter 111, there's a huge treasure chest; it's suggested to hold it with both hands.
"Your confinement ends tonight," Professor McGonagall said, moving on to the next task. "Go help Mr. Filch clean the trophy room. No magic allowed—Weasley, all by hand."
Ron's heart stopped.
"Potter, go help Professor Lockhart reply to his admirers," Professor McGonagall said to Harry.
"Oh no, can I clean the trophies too?" Harry pleaded desperately.
"Of course not," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "And Norton and Granger, you're going to help Mr. Filch clean his picture frames. It's all at eight o'clock tonight. Weasley and Potter's second detention is tomorrow night, the same as Norton and Granger's—how did you four manage to get six detentions in less than a week?"
"Is it an achievement?" Cohen asked curiously. "Actually, I could have done more—"
"No!" Professor McGonagall said angrily. "I don't want to see you in detention again this semester—otherwise, I'll start to wonder if ordinary detention isn't enough to teach you a lesson!"
"So, we can get detained a few more times next semester," Cohen said after Professor McGonagall left.
"That's not what Professor McGonagall meant at all!" Hermione wanted to distance herself from Cohen and the others.
"Filch is killing me!" Ron said mournfully. "Without magic! There are at least a hundred trophies in that room, and I'm not as good at cleaning as a Muggle…"
"Remember to polish mine a little," Cohen suddenly remembered, mimicking Filch's tone, "'Don't let me see a speck of dust on it!'"
Harry and Hermione both laughed—only Ron nudged Cohen angrily.
"Filch is alone; he can't supervise both the trophy room and the castle corridors at the same time," Hermione said uncomfortably. "I don't want him following me around all the time…it's too weird."
"Don't worry," Ron said sullenly. "He'd much rather sit in the prize room and supervise me than run around the castle with you guys."
But that wasn't the case.
At eight o'clock in the evening, they parted ways on the fourth floor.
Ron was going to the prize room on the fourth floor, which was now empty.
Harry was going to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's office on the third floor, where Lockhart was humming a tune.
Cohen and Hermione, on the other hand, needed to go to Filch's office next to the foyer.
"Fred said it was dirty and dark there," Cohen told Hermione, "and there was a smell of grilled fish—though it shouldn't be now, since Mrs. Norris can't eat fish…"
"If Filch heard you say that, you'd be in big trouble," Hermione said, pursing her lips. "Luckily, I used to do chores at home…wiping picture frames shouldn't be difficult—have you ever done chores?"
"Ha—" Cohen chuckled, "I never had the chance; my dad did all the chores at home."
But wiping picture frames shouldn't be difficult, and besides, Filch probably wouldn't be with them, so they could slack off.
They walked up the quiet castle stairs, through the silent Great Hall, and into the long outer corridor leading to Filch's office.
The torches burning on the castle walls crackled, a scene that would fit into a horror movie—an empty Hogwarts really does look like a haunted place—no, Hogwarts was already haunted.
Now it was even more haunted.
"Kill...kill you..."
The basilisk's voice came from the wall not far away, as it slithered further away—towards Filch's office.
Cohen paused, slowing his pace.
"What's wrong? It's almost eight o'clock, we need to hurry..." Hermione noticed Cohen's slowing and urged, "Being late might mean extended solitary confinement..."
"I feel like we don't need to be in solitary confinement..." Cohen clicked his tongue.
"Huh?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
The basilisk was already in position—Cohen was considering whether to go in or not.
They had to pretend they knew nothing and couldn't run away, otherwise, once Filch's body or the statue was discovered, they, the two "hit-and-run" students, would be the prime suspects.
But they couldn't go in now either, because the basilisk was still inside—Cohen himself was fine, at most turning to stone, but Hermione would definitely die if she saw it directly.
So at Filch's door, Cohen stopped Hermione.
[Soul Strength: 40]
[Soul Strength: 7]
Filch was still alive, probably because he hadn't looked directly at the basilisk and turned to stone.
But the basilisk was still inside; Cohen could see it circle the room, and then…
it "looked" at Cohen's position, as if it could smell Cohen's scent through the wall.
But just when Cohen thought it was going to break down the door and rush out—it ran away.
The basilisk flew away along the wall without making a sound.
"Cohen?" Hermione seemed to realize something too.
"I have a bad feeling." Cohen pushed open Filch's door.
Hermione gasped in shock at the scene inside.
"This…this…"
Hermione's breathing quickened.
Filch stared in horror at the window—outside was a dark sky, the candlelight casting his face on the glass.
He was petrified, just like his cat.
"He—is he dead?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling, taking a few steps back.
"Like his cat." Cohen closed the door. "I think we have to tell Professor McGonagall—something's happened."
This was indeed suspicious, but following the normal "crime scene discovery → report" logic was the most logical choice at the moment; it really had nothing to do with them.
Voldemort had acted without warning, without any warning.
"Yes…yes, we have to tell Professor McGonagall quickly…" Hermione's mind went blank; she hadn't even considered that she might be a suspect.
They rushed to Professor McGonagall's office.
"Shouldn't you be going to Mr. Filch?" Professor McGonagall frowned.
"Professor McGonagall! Mr. Filch—" Hermione gasped, "Something's happened—"
"What?!" Professor McGonagall jumped up from behind her desk.
"Just like last time we—we saw Mrs. Norris in the corridor, Professor…" Cohen had made himself deathly pale before arriving, looking terrified. "Should we get a doctor—or—"
"I'll go find Professor Dumbledore. You shouldn't be involved in this," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "I'll take you back to the common room. Don't come out tonight—I remember Mr. Weasley is in the Prize Room, isn't he?"
Professor McGonagall immediately led them toward the Gryffindor Tower, picking up Harry from Lockhart's room and Ron from the Prize Room along the way.
"What happened?" Harry's hands were covered in violet ink; he had been startled when Professor McGonagall pushed the door open.
"Don't leave the common room!" Professor McGonagall warned the four of them in an unprecedentedly stern tone. "It's dangerous now—none of you should wander off!"
Read 50+ advanced chapters at p4treon..
[email protected]/Horizons685
(End of Chapter)