The Petrified Cat

Oren, "Mate, you look like a drowned rat."

Harry shook the muddy water off himself. "Luckily, Nearly Headless Nick saved me today. If he hadn't lured Filch away, I'd probably be in detention again."

"That guy makes you clean the trophy room by hand, slowly wiping everything down. No magic allowed," Ron said angrily.

"That wouldn't be too bad," Harry said helplessly. "As long as I don't have to stay with Snape, I'd rather answer Lockhart's fan mail."

"I found a course on quick-casting spells in Filch's office. Do you know what that is?" Harry looked at Hermione, apparently hoping Miss Know-It-All could answer his question.

Oren said, "Come on, Harry. She's always clueless about wizarding things. You'd be better off asking Ron."

The young witch stopped writing and shot Oren a glare.

"It means exactly what it says—quick-casting spells," Ron said as he wrestled with his Potions essay.

Oren said, "Have any of you ever seen Filch use magic? Harry, Ron, you're always in detention, so you should know him pretty well, right? I've only ever seen him rubbing at a stain like a stupid donkey for over half an hour."

Harry...

Ron...

Hermione said, "I'm surprised you aren't familiar with Filch. I thought going to his office was like going home for you."

"You know, I'm probably about the same to him as Peeves is."

Hermione...

"Oh, right!" Harry smacked his forehead as though he had remembered something. "I promised Nearly Headless Nick I'd take you all to his five-hundredth deathday party. It's on the night of the Halloween feast."

Oren!!!

"You mean we're giving up the warm Great Hall to attend some underworld gathering with you? I'd rather go be a carpenter with Dumbledore."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Oren. "Harry, we'll go. I think a party like that must be fascinating."

"Who would even be interested in a ghost party?" Oren sighed. "Hermione, you really do know how to avoid the easy path."

Ron shrugged and offered no opinion. He had always gone wherever Harry went.

On the night of the Halloween feast, Harry was already regretting it. There were enormous pumpkin lanterns and Halloween decorations everywhere, and Dumbledore had even booked a skeleton dance troupe.

"No, Harry. You promised. Even if you cry, you're going," Oren said, forcefully dragging Harry toward the underground classroom.

"It's freezing in here. Their music sounds like someone scratching a blackboard," Ron said, sniffing the air around them. "And it smells awful. How can they stand being here?"

Oren said, "Ron, use that oak block you call a head. Out of everyone here, the four of us are the only ones breathing."

"How about we look around? If we keep standing here, I feel like we'll freeze solid," Harry suggested.

Oren said, "You're right, Harry. We'll walk around so he knows we came, then get out of here fast."

The three little ones...

The group wandered around the ghost party and met quite a few ghosts, some from Hogwarts and some from elsewhere.

"Turn around, quickly," Hermione said anxiously. "I really don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle."

"Who?" x3

"Moaning Myrtle," Hermione whispered. "She stays in one of the toilets in the second-floor girls' bathroom. She throws tantrums every day and splashes water everywhere."

"Moaning Myrtle! Someone here is badmouthing you! Moaning Myrtle with the pimple-covered face!" Peeves suddenly appeared behind Hermione and said.

In just a few words, he made Moaning Myrtle burst into loud sobs.

"My dear old friend, you're getting better and better at stirring things up," Oren said, poking Peeves.

"You're not bad yourself, Oren. Snape still smells like a bottle of cheap perfume," Peeves said, taking off his top hat and bowing to Oren.

"Peeves, that was a specially made concentrated Dungbomb. That old bat has probably been thoroughly pickled in the smell by now."

Oren left the three little ones behind and began chatting with Peeves.

"Peeves, look at those two ghosts with something wrong with their heads," Oren said, imitating Sir Patrick's tone. "I formed a hunting club. Guess who didn't get invited? What a classic."

"Yeah, truly classic."

Peeves's eyes gleamed as he ingratiatingly said, "Master Black, could you give me some Dungbombs?"

"I'm the twins' boss. I can get as many of those as I want. Since you let me watch such a good show, I'll give you a few."

"Of course, you can also trade interesting news for Dungbombs. I can hire you to do things with Dungbombs too."

Peeves nodded and said happily, "At your command, Master Black!"

After giving Peeves a few instructions, Oren watched him fly away.

The three little ones suddenly grabbed Oren and ran toward the door.

Harry said, "That awful music... I really can't stand being here for another second."

Ron said, "Let's run. There might still be some pudding left in the Great Hall."

"Wait." Harry stopped and listened carefully to the sounds around them. "Did you hear that?"

Hermione said, "Hear what?"

"I didn't hear anything. What did you hear?" Oren said. "Forget it. As the saying goes, dogs can hear sounds people can't."

Harry...

"The sound came from over there. Hurry, follow me!"

Oren rolled his eyes and helplessly followed the three little ones.

They ran into a corridor, where Ron nearly slipped into a puddle.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware," Ron said, pointing at the wall. "And what's that?"

Harry's voice trembled. "That's Filch's cat. It looks like a stone... Can it still be saved?"

Ron said, "We need to get out of here."

"We shouldn't have come. Now, before leaving, we even have to clean up the crime—ptui, ptui, ptui—the scene," Oren said helplessly. "It's too late for that now. Someone's already coming."

Ron said, "Then what are we waiting for? Run! I don't want anyone finding us here."

By then, the students who had eaten and drunk their fill had already seen the scene of the crime, and the corridor instantly fell silent.

"Oh-ho, we're done for," Oren muttered.

"You're next! Mudbloods!"

Oren flicked out a capsule. It flew precisely into Draco's mouth, and Draco turned into Miss Malfoy again, covering his face as he ran away.

"It was you! It must have been you!" Filch roared furiously.

Only Dumbledore's arrival calmed Filch down. Everyone followed Dumbledore to Lockhart's office.

"It isn't dead. It appears to have been petrified," Dumbledore said. "But I don't know the exact circumstances."

"Ask them!" Filch pointed furiously at the four of them. "Potter, it had to be him! He saw my quick-casting spells course. He knows I'm a Squib!"

Dumbledore looked at Harry. Nervously, Harry said, "Headmaster, you know me. I had no idea what a Squib was, and I never touched Mrs Norris."

Dumbledore then looked at Hermione and Ron.

"Headmaster, you know me. I would never hurt it," Hermione said.

Ron scratched his head. "Headmaster, you know me. I can't petrify anything."

After hesitating for a long while, Dumbledore finally looked at Oren.

Oren???

"Headmaster, you know me. If I'd done it, there wouldn't even be ashes left. Besides, this method is far too unprofessional."

"If it were me, I'd definitely keep my distance from the cat, observe it from the shadows, and after making my move, deal with clues like fingerprints. I'd make sure not to leave behind any trace at all."

"So surely you believe now that I discovered the crime scene, rather than being the one who committed the crime?"

The explanation was perfectly reasonable and did clear him of suspicion, but why did it somehow make everyone trust him even less?

Lockhart, who had been chattering away like a mosquito beside them, immediately fell silent, stood up, and saluted Oren with his eyes.

Even the enraged Filch forcibly calmed himself and began wondering whether he had offended this little devil over the past few years.

Dumbledore's mouth twitched wildly, as though he were about to suffer a stroke.

The three little ones stared at Oren in horror.

"Ahem." Snape cleared his throat. "Perhaps Harry and his friends merely happened to arrive there. But why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"

Oren said, "You greasy-haired old thief, don't you dare frame us. There are hundreds of ghosts in the underground classroom who can testify for us."

"And don't stand so close. You smell barely any better than a troll right now."

Snape said darkly, "And after that? Why didn't you attend the feast?"

Oren slammed the table and shot to his feet. "There were only a few minutes left. Was I supposed to lick the empty plates? Aren't you just wronging an honest man? Damn it, we won't say another word to you until our lawyer arrives!"

Everyone in the office...

Snape said, "I believe he hasn't told the whole truth. Harry should immediately be removed from the Quidditch team until he is willing to be honest."

Professor McGonagall retorted, "That cat wasn't hit by a flying broomstick, and there is no evidence that they did it."

"Wise words, Head of House!" Oren stood on his chair and pointed at Snape's nose. "Do you have any conclusive evidence before condemning Harry? Headmaster Dumbledore, I formally accuse this bastard Snape of framing us!"

Oren then pointed at Filch. "And you. You have no idea how many people you offend every day. If you got petrified one day, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest."

"And Peeves will be paying you a visit in the next couple of days. You'd better sleep with one eye open."

Dumbledore felt a dull ache in his chest. With a sigh, he said, "I know of a potion that can restore Mrs Norris. You may all leave." Dumbledore waved them away wearily.

Outside Lockhart's office, the three little ones all gave Oren a thumbs-up.

Having just verbally battled everyone in the room, Oren said confidently, "You go on ahead. I'm going to see the Headmaster. You know, my personal carpenter has nearly finished the job, so I need to wrap things up."

The three little ones...

Inside the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore asked, "So what exactly happened?"

Oren tapped and fiddled with a crystal ball as he replied, "No idea. We just followed Harry when he ran. Maybe Snape's persecution gave him auditory hallucinations."

"The last time he heard strange voices was after that old bat gave him detention. You know, it caused Harry a certain amount of psychological trauma."

Dumbledore's mouth twitched wildly. Wasn't that because of the amusing thing you had made?

"All done." Oren wiped away some sweat. "You'll have to work overtime again tonight and install these in the Library."

"Cheer up, Headmaster. I dare say this is an invention that will change the century."

Dumbledore... couldn't cheer up, because he wasn't the one working overtime.