The Chosen Unlucky Egg

Harry's luck lately has been so bad that he seems to have stepped on every curse that plagues the Wizarding World.

Harry was exhausted from the intense Quidditch training, which lasted all day.

Afterwards, covered in mud, he rushed back to the castle, only to be caught red-handed by Filch.

By a twist of fate, he also stumbled upon Filch's long-hidden secret, almost causing a major accident.

In the end, Nearly Headless Nick, came to the rescue. To repay his life-saving grace, Harry reluctantly agreed to attend Nick's Deathday Party.

That dinner party was arguably the worst event Harry had ever experienced in his life, bar none.

Ghosts floated around the room, bringing a chilling aura as they passed through the walls, making you feel as if you were doused with ice water, chilling you from head to toe.

The food on the table was even worse; it was all moldy and rotten. Just looking at it made one want to vomit, let alone eat it.

He had finally endured the agonizing dinner and was thinking of sneaking in a couple of bites of proper hot food to fill his stomach before the main banquet at the castle ended.

As a result, they immediately stumbled upon this outrageous controversy.

A student inexplicably collapsed to the ground, while Filch's beloved cat, Mrs. Norris, remained frozen in place, her body cold and motionless.

The most outrageous thing is that Filch, without distinguishing right from wrong, directly threw all the blame on him.

Filch, in a frenzy, clenched his fists and, with bloodshot eyes, was about to rush forward and fight Harry to the death.

The next second, an old but steady and powerful hand firmly pressed down on him, locking his movements.

"Calm down, Argus, your cat is fine."

Albus Dumbledore's voice rang out, and Filch, who was on the verge of collapse, instantly looked up, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes.

After calming the agitated Filch, Albus Dumbledore ignored him and quickly knelt down, holding his wand to carefully examine the fallen student's condition.

A moment later, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

"My judgment was correct. Neither of them died; they were simply petrified by Dark Magic."

"Petrification?"

Snape had somehow appeared behind them, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes fixed on the fallen man and cat with a sinister gaze.

She spoke softly, "Perhaps calling it a state of being alive with the dead would be more accurate."

"The description is very accurate." Albus Dumbledore put away his wand and slowly stood up.

Filch rushed forward, anxious and flustered. "Headmaster! When will they recover? My Mrs. Norris will be alright, won't she?"

"It cannot be determined at present, and further research is needed to trace its origin." Albus Dumbledore said solemnly.

"The most urgent task is to find out who the mastermind behind the magic and the whole story."

"No need to investigate anymore! It's him!"

Filch screamed, his finger pointing intently at the pale-faced Harry.

"This is definitely Potter's deliberate revenge! He must be holding a grudge against me for catching him breaking the rules!"

"Calm down, Mr. Filch." Ross stepped forward and gently pressed down Filch's agitated arm.

Calmly speaking, "Even I find it difficult to cast this level of Dark Magic easily. Do you think a second-year student has that kind of ability?"

For the first time, Harry genuinely felt that being mediocre and lacking any outstanding qualities might not be such a bad thing after all.

At least this seemingly insignificant act perfectly cleared him of suspicion.

But Filch persisted, shouting obsessively.

"It's him! He peeked at the mail in my office!"

"He knew my secret that I couldn't cast spells! And the writing on the wall is all evidence of his crimes!"

Filch held the stiff Mrs. Norris in his arms, his eyes red and his voice choked with emotion.

"When I arrived at the scene, there were only Potter and Weasley there!"

Albus Dumbledore turned to look at the two boys, his voice gentle.

"Mr. Potter, please explain why you were in this secluded corridor during the dinner period."

He already had a general idea of what was going on, but there were too many students watching, so he had to clarify the whole story in public and completely clear the two of their suspicions.

Harry and Ron quickly stepped in to defend themselves, recounting their attendance at Nick's Deathday Party and even bringing up the ghosts present as witnesses.

"And after the dinner?" Snape's lips curled into a mocking sneer, his dark eyes fixed on the two of them.

"Why would you choose to hide in this secluded corner instead of attending a lavish Halloween Feast?"

Harry froze, his heart pounding wildly.

You can't exactly say you heard some strange, mysterious noises and knew something bad would happen if you came here, can you?

Such an absurd claim would sound like a lie to anyone.

He had no choice but to lie, "We're a little tired and want to go back to the dorm to rest early."

Snape's smile grew increasingly sinister, and he immediately launched into a sarcastic remark:

"Potter, at least come up with a plausible reason if you're going to lie. The food at the Ghost Banquet was completely inedible, and you're telling me you weren't hungry?"

"Is your stomach made of refined iron?"

"We're not hungry!" Ron retorted loudly, his neck stiff.

No sooner had they finished speaking than their stomachs rumbled loudly at the same time, clearly audible in the quiet corridor, a swift and painful reversal of their earlier statements.

Harry was completely devastated at this point.

Whenever he's down on his luck, Snape always seems to be there.

Seizing every opportunity to push him to the brink of expulsion, they are truly destined mortal enemies.

The students' gazes instantly became subtle, although no one thought that two second-year kids could use high-level Dark Magic.

But the way they were trying to hide their secrets and kept lying made them seem like they had something to hide.

Just as the situation reached a stalemate, a light and languid voice came from the periphery of the crowd.

"Excuse me, could you please move aside?"

The crowd instinctively parted to make way, and Tom, who had just returned from Hogsmeade, slowly walked up to the group of professors.

"Riddle." Snape's eyes narrowed slightly, and he immediately asked, "I remember you were also absent from the Halloween Feast tonight."

He didn't intend to frame Tom; he just wanted Tom to give a reasonable explanation to silence everyone's suspicions.

Tom gave a casual reply, "I've been running out of alchemy supplies lately, so I just went to Hogsmeade to restock. I also took Usachi out for a walk to get some fresh air."

After saying that, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Professor Snape, you don't suspect that I'm the mastermind behind this, do you?"

Snape remained silent, instinctively glancing at Albus Dumbledore, waiting for the other to respond.

"I am willing to believe in the character of every student," Albus Dumbledore said calmly.

"Moreover, this level of dark curse is definitely not something a student at school can control."

"The truth will naturally come to light once the spell is lifted on the person who was under its influence."

"Professor, what you're saying is a bit disrespectful."

Tom, somewhat unconvinced, calmly retorted arrogantly, "It's just a petrification curse, isn't it? It's not that technologically advanced."

"Give me some time to debug, and I'll tell you who you want to curse, and I'll hit the target precisely. I can even teach you until you understand."