Chapter 171. The Third Petrification Incident
"Who found them first?" Adrian Wesson looked around.
A girl raised a trembling hand. "It… it was me, Professor. Ernie and I had just come back from the library, and then… then…"
"All right, Miss Hannah Abbott, don't panic," Wesson nodded. "I already understand what happened.
Mr Finch-Fletchley is only petrified, that's all; he's not in any real danger."
Some colour finally returned to Hannah Abbott's pale face.
"Everyone, attention!" Wesson stood up, his voice echoing down the corridor. "Where are the Prefects? Any Prefects present? Percy?"
A tall, red-haired boy immediately pushed his way out of the crowd. "I'm here, Professor!"
"Time is short!" Wesson ordered decisively. "Percy, take the students to the Great Hall at once. Then alert the other professors. Quickly!"
Percy nodded; he knew perfectly well what to do.
"Everyone, this way. Keep order, don't panic," he shouted.
As it turned out, Percy did have some authority.
Under his lead, the students withdrew swiftly.
Wesson remained on the spot to stand guard.
Before long, Dumbledore arrived in a hurry with a group of professors.
Among them, the well-groomed Lockhart stood out especially.
Dumbledore gazed at the line of scarlet writing on the floor, then turned his eyes to the petrified ghost and student. "It seems the culprit has revealed themselves."
"Ah, quite right!" Lockhart picked up the thread and puffed out his chest. "But that's nothing to worry about. As a member of Hogwarts—and as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor—I shall take responsibility for bringing the culprit to heel—just as I wrote in my autobiography…"
However, no one paid Lockhart's bold claims any mind.
"Well? Professor Wesson?" Professor McGonagall asked anxiously. "Are they in danger?"
"They're only petrified," Wesson nodded. "Conveniently, there's still some of the potion left over from treating Lockhart."
Perhaps because no one was listening to him, Lockhart quietly retreated to one side.
"Professor Wesson," Dumbledore waved a hand, "see to Mr Finch-Fletchley first… and the ghost over there as well."
Wesson had intended as much.
Even as he spoke, he was already kneeling down.
"This is the last of the potion; the next batch will be ready in two weeks."
As he spoke, Wesson poured the potion over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick.
Soon, Justin was the first to return to normal.
His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright with a terrified scream, shaking all over, his hands flailing wildly in the air.
That was the normal reaction…
Wesson pressed his hands to the boy's shoulders at once. "Calm down, Mr Finch-Fletchley. You're safe now. Can you tell us what happened?"
"P-p-Professor…" Justin's teeth chattered nonstop as he haltingly described the scene. "I…
I saw a pair of eyes… and then my whole body went rigid… I couldn't move at all…"
The crowd fell silent at once, listening to his account.
Supporting the still-shaking Justin to his feet, Wesson continued to ask, "Mr Finch-Fletchley, did you see anything else?"
Perhaps because the corridor was full of professors, Justin soon got a grip on his fear.
"A very big monster," he said, giving a shudder. "Its eyes were terrifying…"
At that moment, Nearly Headless Nick also returned to normal.
Perhaps because he had already died once, he appeared far calmer than Justin.
"He's right," Nick drifted over and said evenly. "I saw it—a gigantic snake.
Oh, I've no idea why a snake could catch even a ghost like me, but what I'm more concerned about is—do you think it could help bite my head off?"
"Very regrettably," Wesson said, "probably not."
Nick shook his head in disappointment; his head nearly came off.
"This is no time for jokes," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "The Basilisk must be hiding somewhere—" Yet even knowing a Basilisk was roaming Hogwarts, they could not catch it.
Wesson turned his gaze to Dumbledore, who wore a pensive look.
After that, Professor McGonagall gathered the students in the Great Hall and sent them back to their dormitories, suspending classes for a day.
Then the professors began a room-by-room search of Hogwarts.
Of course, it did little good; if anything, it only made the students more frightened.
This latest attack spread quickly among the student body.
After all, the words "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware!" were still printed on the floor.
It seemed to be a special magical paint that could not be scrubbed off at all.
Naturally, the students could not ignore it.
Coupled with Justin's accidental leak of a few details,
news that a giant snake capable of petrifying people was prowling Hogwarts spread through the entire school.
Everyone was speculating who the "heir" might be.
And the students' ability to gather information and reason things out was far stronger than Wesson had imagined.
In just a few days, all kinds of versions of "the Heir of Slytherin" and "the Chamber legend" were circulating around the castle.
All the students began to fall into panic, especially the Muggle-borns.
After all, according to the legend—the monster in the Chamber existed to purge those "unworthy to learn magic."
And those "unworthy to learn magic" quite obviously meant Muggle-born witches and wizards.
The days went by.
Perhaps because Valentine's Day was approaching, the atmosphere of panic on campus eased a little.
To be honest, Wesson very much wanted to see what Lockhart would do that day.
From what Wesson knew of Lockhart, he would certainly pull some jaw-dropping stunt for the holiday.
Back in his school days, Lockhart had often caused all manner of ridiculous incidents on Valentine's Day.
This time would likely be no exception.
Just a few days earlier, Wesson had overheard a conversation between Lockhart and Professor McGonagall.
"Ah, Minerva, I don't think we need worry about the heir's attacks—you know I've been hunting the fellow all along. The moment he appears again, I'll catch him. He must be cowering in some corner right now!"
"By the way! Perhaps I could organise a few activities to help the students relax? What do you think of Valentine's Day? I already have a detailed plan…"
Those were Lockhart's exact words.
Therefore, Wesson was all the more certain this Valentine's Day would not be dull.
On Valentine's Day, Wesson arrived early at the Great Hall.
He knew Lockhart would certainly meddle with the decorations.
Sure enough, the moment Wesson stepped into the Great Hall, he felt as though he had entered a sea of pink.
On the floor, on the walls, on the tables…
Everywhere were pink flowers, and heart-shaped confetti drifted down from the ceiling.
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