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For several days, Hogwarts was literally bursting with talk and various kinds of rumors about the incident with Filch's cat. This was facilitated by both Filch, who constantly kept watch at the inscription, in vain trying to erase it, and some Slytherins. Poor Filch seemed to be hoping that the intruder would return to the scene of the crime, and the Slytherins seemed to feel the invisible support of someone powerful behind their backs. They provoked the guys from our House into fights, both magical and more traditional, Muggle. One such group was the Malfoy company. He often appeared surrounded by Crabbe, Goyle, Knott, Zabini, and, oddly enough, the younger Greengrass. The girl sympathized with Malfoy, although she hid it well. Parkinson tried to keep up with her but did not seem to want to march in the crowd.
These few days, Hermione diligently spent the remaining time in the Forbidden Section. Still, she did not forget about the usual library, diligently looking for various facts. I watched people around. Ron constantly reassured Ginny, who was not herself because of this incident. She has the diary, that's for sure. Ron believes that the girl is extremely upset that the cat is petrified, and she does not like what is happening. I have a different guess. Ginny knows perfectly well who did it, and most importantly - how. I honestly feel sorry for her, but, on the one hand, this is her mistake. On the other hand, if this whole performance is being held under the Headmaster's strict guidance, then it is incredibly unreasonable to interfere in it.
Under such thoughts, I was sitting on one of the windowsills in an empty corridor. Not far away, somewhere around the corner, there were the sounds of footsteps, the sound of books falling, and chuckles.
"Look where you're going, Mudblood," Draco Malfoy's hostile tone could be recognized a mile away. I jumped briskly from the windowsill and turned the corner - an amazing picture. Hermione and Draco looked at each other with hostile eyes. Nearby are Crabbe and Goyle, the black Zabini, and the younger Greengrass. It was clear from the last two faces that they didn't understand anything, but out of solidarity, they would support.
"Looking for trouble out of boredom, Malfoy?" I asked calmly as I walked up to Hermione.
"Look who came!" he sarcastically drawled. "Mudblood rushes to help Mudblood!"
Draco grinned and glanced at his comrades. The boys supported him with cheerful smiles, but Astoria looked at me somewhat surprised. I wonder if Draco really doesn't see my resemblance to my mother, or is he faking it?
I ignored them completely as I picked up Hermione's book. The wand is already resting in the sleeve and is ready to be in hand in a split second. I returned the book to the girl.
"Come on, don't linger here. You can catch some kind of disease from the dampness of the dungeons."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Draco boil. He drew his wand and pointed it at me, but I can clearly see that there is no movement for the spells. No movement is not the level yet. But just in case, I'm ready to dodge, and Hermione is already holding the wand in a convenient position for her - at belly level, standing half-turned to the opponents. I will need to give her an idea for a less threatening position, relaxed, misleading the enemy.
"And what will you do?" I went almost close, and the tip of Malfoy's wand looked into my forehead upwards. "I'm surprised you know which side to take the wand."
Crabbe and Goyle made a scary face, more befitting of a pooping monkey ... No, I'm serious! They need to take a master class from someone older! This is ridiculous!
"You!" Malfoy clearly does not possess sufficient self-control. "Slugul..."
I touched his hand with a sharp movement, pressed on the metacarpal bone with my fingers, twisting the hand, and immediately intercepting the dropped stick. Malfoy cried out from the sharp pain and, pulling his hand, jumped back, with some resentment looking from his hand to his wand, which I deftly twirled between my fingers of the left hand.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I jumped to conclusions. You still don't know how to hold it."
All this I said without any emotion on my face, which further infuriated Draco. Although you can enrage him with anything. Crabbe and Goyle moved towards me, deciding to wrinkle my, no doubt, beautiful face.
"Impedimenta Spatsis," using Malfoy's wand, which turned out to be surprisingly obedient, I slowed down the guys so that for a moment, I felt like Quicksilver from Marvel - they moved so slowly. Well, sadly, the speed of perception of the world in such a state does not decrease.
"You can take it back when you wake up."
Noticing Astoria's offended face out of the corner of my eye, I couldn't help but smile. Well, children, eh?
"Sorry, young miss, the circumstances," I threw Malfoy's wand aside. They still have to "swim" like that for about ten minutes if someone does not disenchant or they themselves do not get rid of the spell. The latter is unlikely.
"I would have done it myself," Hermione rebuked me when we moved a little to the side.
"I have no doubt, but my method is less painful."
"Let's go to our class."
Quickly reaching the training class next to the living room, Hermione cleared the dust from the first desk she came across and sat on it.
"I have unpleasant news."
"Is the inspector coming to us?"
"I'm glad that you read Russian classics, but our affairs can really turn out to be incredibly bad."
"I'm listening to."
Hermione opened the book and quickly found the page she was looking for. It featured a basilisk. And a bunch of text about him.
"Having compared the facts, opinions, arguments, and my own thoughts, I came to the conclusion that a giant basilisk is crawling around the castle!"
I wondered how the girl could find such information so quickly. Even a week had not passed.
"Go on."
"So," Hermione pulled up a chair and sat down. "If we take for the truth that the current "Heir" and the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago is the Heir of Slytherin, then this can be based on. The symbol of the House is a snake. This symbol was introduced by the founder himself, Salazar Slytherin. The History of Hogwarts states that he could speak to snakes in their language, Parseltongue. Assuming that he, as it is said in the books, was proud and vain, and in the books, there is no mention of any "Slytherin's Horror" ..."
"What horror?"
"The horror of Slytherin. This was the name of something that was hidden in the Chamber of Secrets and was released last time. So that's it. Okay, next. Mrs. Norris was petrified."
"I know, and in general, I told you that. Overheard in the living room."
"This is not so important. So I thought, how can I please my pride and vanity if I were Slytherin? Why not breed the world's most dangerous snake? Great option! And hide it from the rest, otherwise, they will kill it, and you can amuse your pride even during a conversation with this snake. The only thing that falls out of theory a little is petrification. Partial. Mrs. Norris is alive but still petrified."
"Hmm ... how does the basilisk bewitch the victims?"
"Direct eye-to-eye gaze."
"And there was a puddle on the floor ..."
"Exactly! Hermione slapped her hand on the desk. "She could see the basilisk in the reflection! Although there is no evidence of this, it may well be that an indirect look into the eyes of a basilisk does not kill but forces you to fall into such a state."
"This is… problematic."
"This is a huge problem! What should we do? Basilisks have one weakness - the crowing of a rooster, but let me remind you, Max, someone killed Hagrid's roosters. All of them. Hagrid complained about this."
Yes, our sitting in the living room and listening habit really helps us to learn an incredible amount of information without putting in any effort. Ours don't care about confidentiality at all.
"Hermione," I spoke seriously, "We don't go one by one anymore, generally. Better not to walk at all."
"Not walking at all is not an option. But in a group - pretty reasonable. Perhaps, the heir will not dare to attack several targets at once - someone can leave and report on the situation. We stick to crowded places. And, just in case, we need mirrors."
"I have a couple. I have a lot of things."
"Great. We also need to report our guesses to the professors."
"Then Flitwick or Sprout."
"Why not Professor McGonagall?" Hermione was surprised.
"I don't trust the Headmaster, even if he is a great light wizard, but he did not cease to be a man with his own personal interests because of this. McGonagall is his loyal deputy. Oh, and I somehow did not notice the concern about my House on the part of our dean."
"This is very sad, by the way. When I watch and listen to how Professor Flitwick and Sprout care about their own students, even I become jealous."
"Let's go to the living room. I'll give you a mirror."