In reality, Hedwig was in his pocket at that very moment, quietly listening to everything. But he wasn't going to use her to help any students get out there and get themselves hurt. If the heir and the beast were actually out there, then staying in this room was the smartest thing to do for everyone else right now. If he had somewhere more secluded, then he possibly could have dropped into an ID and gone to investigate all by himself. But in a place this jam-packed full of students, using his Gamer powers was out of the question.
And so, left without any choices, he waited.
After a whole hour of fretting, when Harry was starting to feel as if his heart would burst right out of his chest with nervousness, there was finally a click on the door, and it swung open to reveal the familiar form of the Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater.
The blond haired girl walked into the room, looking more troubled than Harry had ever seen her before. The students scattered across the room waited with bated breath as she walked to the center of the room, took a deep breath, and finally started speaking.
"The Professors have searched the site of the incident, and found no evidence about the culprit. The only thing we now know is that Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindor, and Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff, are now petrified and in the hospital wing under the care of Madam Pomfrey."
She took a breath before continuing, "Fat Friar, the resident ghost of Hufflepuff, was also found with them, completely petrified by whatever it was that petrified the two students. In light of the recent events, the Professors have decreed that there will now be newer, stricter restrictions on student movements in and around the castle."
A collective cry of angry protest started, but before it could grow into anything more, Penelope raised her hand. So grave was the expression on her face that the cry of protest immediately died down. She continued, "Understand very clearly that this is not just for your protection. If even one more student falls prey to whatever this Heir is doing…Hogwarts will be faced with no choice but to shut down."
She looked around at the somber group surrounding her, looking each of them in the eye to make sure that the point was driven in. Nodding, she turned to Harry, her expression more grave and worried than he had ever seen it before.
"Harry," she said, and for the first time, Harry noticed a noticeable waver in her voice, "Dumbledore's calling for you. They're saying he's been sacked."
...
Five minutes later, Harry was standing on the bottom step of the revolving staircase, watching the grim face of Penelope Clearwater disappear as the staircase rose up to the level of the Headmaster's door.
Harry turned around and knocked on the old oaken door, and within moments the Professor's muffled voice echoed out, "Come in Harry."
Harry opened the door and stepped inside before he instantly ground to a halt.
The portraits were all ducking and cowering in their respective frames, fearful of the massive tornado of silver trinkets and books was whirling around in the room, centered on top of a red suitcase that lay open on top of Professor Dumbledore's claw-footed desk. Harry watched as a small book was picked up from its shelf by the winds of the tornado and then flung around until it fell into the suitcase.
"Good evening Harry!" the Professor called over the sound of the tornado from the divan near the fireplace, where he was calmly sipping on a cup of tea. A glossy lavender-tinged shield spell centered around the fireplace completely protected him and his surrounding area from any flying debris from the tornado that could have hit him.
Harry scooted along the side of the wall, ducking to avoid a trinket that was flying in such a trajectory that it would have slammed him right in the face. A few close brushes with some more debris later, he stepped into the shielded area with a not inconsiderable amount of relief.
"Good evening, sir," he said, catching his breath.
"Indeed, Harry. Sit down," said Dumbledore, waving a hand. A squishy purple armchair popped into existence behind Harry, who tested his weight on it carefully before sitting down.
"Sir, we've been worried for a while now," Harry immediately began, getting straight to the point, "What happened to Seamus and Justin? Are they alright? Did they really get petrified?"
"Ah," Dumbledore said, his face aging a century in the span of a second, "They were found lying near a second-floor broom cupboard, petrified, and are now under Madam Pomfrey's care. Friar Portlius, our Hufflepuff House's resident ghost was also found near them, completely petrified as well." Dumbledore gravely replied.
"But Fat Friar is a ghost…" Harry said confusedly, "How could…I don't understand."
Dumbledore sighed, looking slightly disturbed himself, "That is something that has yet to be determined, Harry. Thankfully, Mr. Friar is a ghost, and should be up and about in a few weeks, after which we might be able to get some insight into what happened."
A moment's silence ringed heavy in the office, before Harry asked, "Will we be able to see them soon? Seamus and Justin? Ernie was very worried about them."
"That…might not be possible," Dumbledore said, shuffling a bit in his seat, "I'm afraid that while their health is in no danger, no student will be able to see Mr. Finnigan and Finch-Fletchley until they are fully cured."
Foreboding thoughts about grievous injury immediately filled his mind. Pushing those sinister thoughts back, Harry warily asked, "But why sir? You said they were fine, and people are allowed to see Hannah. Why not Seamus and Justin?"
Dumbledore took a small sip of his tea, "It is not so much their condition Harry, as what they were doing when they were petrified."
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