Lockhart's office is decorated in an extremely abstract style.
The walls were covered with gold-rimmed photographs, each one of Lockhart himself—smiling.
Some were deep in thought, some were upside down, and some were even dressed in women's clothing.
However, the atmosphere in the office at that moment was completely at odds with this flamboyant style.
Everyone except Lockhart looked serious.
Dumbledore placed Mrs. Norris on the table, brandishing his wand, and tried different ways to break the spell, one after another.
Morris stood to the side, holding the Guantou, observing quietly.
He noticed that Dumbledore had used at least four or five different spells, but none of them had any effect on Mrs. Norris.
Is it really that difficult?
You know, this is Dumbledore!
Harry quietly moved closer to him, his voice barely audible, " Morris... we didn't do anything."
"I know," Morris nodded slightly, "I have never doubted you."
This is clearly not a method that an ordinary student could use.
His cat was probably accidentally dragged into some incident.
This is Hogwarts, the world of Harry Potter. It's probably not going to be a peaceful school year.
Something always happens every year.
But that's not important.
The murderer must pay the price.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Morris's reply, and his tense shoulders finally relaxed a little.
At least Morris trusted him.
Seeing Dumbledore silently casting many spells on Mrs. Norris's "corpse," Filch couldn't hold back any longer.
He choked back tears as he asked, "My cat... how is it?"
Dumbledore straightened up and said softly, "It's not dead, Filch, it's just petrified."
"Just as I predicted!" Lockhart proudly puffed out his chest, but unfortunately, apart from the photos of himself on the wall, no one paid him any attention.
"Petrification?" Filch wiped his face roughly with his sleeve, then turned sharply to Harry, his eyes filled with resentment. "It was you... it must have been you!"
"A second-year student couldn't possibly do something like that," Dumbledore shook his head. "Calm down, Filch, this is probably an extremely advanced form of Dark Magic."
But Filch persisted, his face flushed as he pointed at Harry, "It's him! I'm sure of it!"
He seemed to have already identified the murderer.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly exchanged a glance.
To be honest, among them, Hermione was the only one who was truly proficient in the Petrificus Totalus.
But this is petrification, a phenomenon that Dumbledore couldn't overcome!
Has Filch gone mad?
Or does Filch believe their magical abilities surpass Dumbledore's?
"We have no reason to do this," Harry said firmly. "You know, Morris's cat was petrified too, and he's our friend."
"Friends?" Filch sneered, his bloodshot eyes wide. "Who knows what's going on in the heads of you little brats?"
At this moment, Snape, who had been silently observing, suddenly spoke up, his voice icy, "Headmaster, if I may remind you, Potter and the others are not at tonight's Halloween Feast."
"We went to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party," Hermione quickly explained, her voice tense. "Lots of ghosts saw it! They can testify for us."
" Deathday Party?" Snape chuckled sarcastically. "It'll surely be a wonderful feast, won't it?"
Harry and the others remained silent.
Aside from the fact that the participants were ghosts, the food was rotten, the environment was so cold it made your teeth chatter, and the music sounded like sawing bones, there wasn't much to complain about...
Sigh, it's all tears when I talk about it.
Why would they insist on attending a gathering of ghosts?
This is simply asking for trouble.
Look, I've run into this mess of bad luck.
The three of them sighed inwardly at the same time.
"Then why did you go up to the corridor after attending the ghosts' party instead of coming to the banquet?" Snape pressed on.
"We're tired and want to go back to the dorms to get some sleep," Harry replied curtly.
Snape crossed his arms and looked at Dumbledore with a sinister smile. " Potter is clearly hiding something. Perhaps we can punish him a little until he honestly confesses everything..."
" Severus!" Professor McGonagall interrupted sternly, "There is no evidence that Potter did anything wrong, and we cannot punish an innocent student arbitrarily."
Dumbledore glanced at Snape, his tone gentle yet undeniable, " Minerva is right. Unless proven guilty, she is innocent."
Snape scoffed, turning his gaze to Morris, who had been silent for a long time. " Black," he said, "Perhaps you should reconsider your choice of friends."
Morris didn't answer; he was thinking about how to save the Guantou.
Spells definitely won't work, the magic in the Book of the Mage won't do it either, and as for Potions —he couldn't think of a useful recipe for the time being...
"My cat is petrified!" Filch practically roared. "Is this all just going to be left like this?"
"Don't worry, Filch, we'll find the real killer," Dumbledore reassured him. "You and Mr. Black's cat will also be healed."
"I can figure something out," Lockhart interjected inappropriately. "I've helped many little creatures suffering from difficult illnesses. A little petrification magic is nothing to me."
Dumbledore seemed not to hear and continued, " Sprout is currently cultivating a batch of Mandrake. Once they mature, Snape can concoct a Potions to bring the two cats back to life."
Morris was not reassured upon hearing this.
Those Mandrake are still in their juvenile stage; it will probably take another six months or so for them to mature.
Moreover, Potions may not be effective against undead creatures like Guantou.
Ultimately, he'll have to figure it out himself.
"That's settled then, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, you can go back now," said Dumbledore.
The three felt as if they had been granted a pardon and hurriedly left the suffocating office.
The remaining people remained silent for a moment.
" Morris," Dumbledore suddenly turned to Morris and said, "You seem very calm."
Indeed, both cats were petrified, but Filch cried his eyes out, while Morris remained unusually quiet.
The contrast was so stark that even Filch, who was immersed in grief, glanced at Morris.
"Actually, I'm very angry," Morris said softly. "If the murderer were standing in front of me, I can't guarantee I wouldn't take action."
Dumbledore deep look, his tone resolute, "The murderer will be caught."
"I believe you, Professor," Morris said.
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