This whole incident had happened too suddenly. Leonard had not had time to prepare in advance for stepping in, so naturally he had no chance to build things up gradually. What he had done was abrupt, and the whole thing was bound to look suspicious.
This was all Harris Raymons's fault.
If Harris Raymons had not let Voldemort out, Leonard would have had plenty of time to deal with the Chamber and the Basilisk, and in a much easier, simpler way, with far less fallout.
The more he thought about it, the more Leonard felt that Harris Raymons, after causing him this much trouble, really deserved to die. It made him want to stab a voodoo doll of the man.
At first, Leonard had felt a little uneasy and guilty about shifting the blame onto Harris Raymons.
At a glance, it really did seem as though he had done quite a few things that were unfair to Professor Raymons, sending the Basilisk after him, leaving him petrified like this.
But if he thought about it carefully, if not for Harris Raymons, why would he have ended up in such a sorry state, specifically charging through the pipes and shooting into the Black Lake like he was being flushed down a drain?
Sure, Harris Raymons's reckless nonsense had earned Leonard two powerful and practical ancient spells, but that still did not make up for the mental damage.
So Leonard felt he no longer needed to feel guilty at all. He should just push everything onto Harris Raymons and let him deal with the headache.
Surely a man who was already in the wrong, and who also had to hide the fact that he had been researching Horcruxes and let Voldemort loose, would come up with his own excuses, reasons, and perfectly plausible details.
Those brain cells could be wasted by Harris Raymons instead.
"You'd have to ask Professor Raymons that." Leonard shrugged. "He was the one who brought me there. Professor Raymons knows more than I do."
"Why would he bring you along? You're only a student," Snape said skeptically.
"Who knows? Maybe he thought I was reliable?" Leonard said with a smile and another shrug.
Dumbledore pondered for a moment, then said to Leonard, "In that case, Mr. William, you should go back for now and get some proper rest before tonight's feast."
So he had managed to muddle through this for the time being.
Leonard nodded and politely said goodbye to Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.
Snape, however, got nothing.
As if. That man was always making snide remarks at him. Why on earth should Leonard give him a nice face?
Snape watched Leonard leave with a livid expression and could not help saying to Dumbledore, "Albus, you're really going to believe that nonsense?"
"Severus, I don't understand why you insist on being so harsh toward Mr. William. He has done nothing wrong, or at least, that is how things appear at present," Dumbledore said seriously. "Do not let your personal feelings affect your judgment, especially on a matter this important."
"Exactly. This matter may be connected to the Dark Lord, which means we absolutely cannot go around accusing people at random. The consequences would be serious," Professor McGonagall added.
"Hmph." Snape let out a cold snort and said nothing more.
Professor McGonagall was long used to Snape's sarcastic way of speaking. She shook her head and continued discussing the aftermath of the incident with Dumbledore.
"I think we need to strengthen patrols around the castle," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't believe the Dark Lord is still active near the castle, but we have to be careful..."
...
Late at night, in the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey settled Hermione and Harry in properly, changed the dressing on pale-faced Ron Weasley, checked the Hospital Wing one last time, then went into the adjoining staff room to rest.
Madam Pomfrey was stationed in the Hospital Wing year-round. In a school full of reckless little wizards, she had practically no rest outside the summer and winter holidays. Even on weekends, she had to stay on standby to treat those foolish young wizards who did not know their own limits.
There had been a lot to deal with today. She had only admitted five patients, but the work had been more troublesome than treating a dozen little wizards, and it had kept her more than busy enough.
So not long after, Madam Pomfrey drifted off to sleep, and the only sound left in the Hospital Wing was Filch's snoring.
The ghost Professor Binns, who was apparently on night patrol, drifted slowly past the window. Not long after that, a shadow arrived at the Hospital Wing entrance.
"Bloody hell, Hogwarts' night patrol arrangements are way too creepy. They actually use a ghost for patrols?" Leonard muttered, rubbing his wildly pounding heart.
A lifeless-eyed ghost wandering the corridors of an eerie old castle in the dead of night.
Just thinking about it made the temperature feel like it had dropped several degrees.
Even Leonard, who considered himself fairly brave, had almost yelped out loud when he suddenly ran into the History of Magic professor.
Peeking after the translucent figure until it slowly drifted away, Leonard curled his lip, then turned and entered the Hospital Wing.
He first went to Harry and Hermione, who were asleep, and put two drops of Draught of Living Death on each of their lips.
The potion took effect immediately, sending them into an even deeper sleep so they would not be woken by any noise.
Listening to their breathing grow slower and steadier, Leonard turned and walked to Filch's bed, then hit him with a Stunning Spell.
To avoid any unnecessary extra effects from a potion on a Squib, merciful Leonard chose a spell instead.
The result was the same anyway.
Then he walked over to Harris Raymons's bed. The professor was still frozen in the pose of trying to grab the Basilisk's eyes, one hand stretched out, shock fixed stiffly on his face.
"Tsk. You beat the Basilisk and all you had to do was leave properly and with dignity. But no, you just had to try stealing my stuff."
Leonard sneered at Harris Raymons for a moment, then pulled a vial of potion from his pocket.
When it came to this whole incident, Leonard needed a completely foolproof ending. He intended to push every unreasonable part of the story onto Harris Raymons.
But if Harris Raymons were questioned about what had happened and knew nothing at all, then the whole act would fall apart.
So Leonard needed to coordinate their stories.
And for that, Harris Raymons had to wake up for a while.
The greenhouses at Hogwarts had to follow natural conditions. Mandrakes ripened when they ripened.
But Leonard did not have that problem. He could ripen whatever plant he wanted at will. Rapid growth would push a plant quickly toward death, but until it fully withered, its fruit would still remain effective.
And since the recipe for a potion capable of undoing powerful petrification was recorded in Moste Potente Potions, brewing that potion was naturally no problem.
Leonard poured the potion over Harris Raymons. His petrified body absorbed it like a sponge.
In an instant, the traces of petrification on Harris Raymons gradually faded, and the dullness vanished from his eyes.