Harry Potter: Sectumsempra Chapter 09 | Seven Years of Chaos Book 2

The moment the castle floods the corridor, Harry is trapped in the worst possible position: standing beneath the blood-red warning, beside Susan Bones and Luna Lovegood, with Mrs. Norris hanging frozen on the wall. Filch explodes in grief and rage and, in front of half the staff, goes straight for Harry. Snape intervenes fast and hard, and suddenly the entire incident becomes a public trial with a dozen witnesses and no room for mistakes.

Dragged into Lockhart’s absurdly self-centered office, the adults argue, posture, and theorize while Harry struggles to keep his balance under Dumbledore’s relentless questions. Luna’s strange observations cut through the tension in the most unhelpful way, Susan refuses to let Harry stand alone, and Harry quietly turns the tables when Lockhart tries to insert himself as the “expert,” forcing everyone to remember who the real Potions Master is.

Later, the Headmaster confirms what Snape feared: the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before, and it ended in death. The school starts looking at Slytherin differently overnight, and Harry feels it immediately. Scared whispers, impressed stares, and the sick sense that people want him to be the monster.

At midnight, Harry shows up at Snape’s door, shaking with anger and panic, not asking to be comforted, but needing one person to believe him. Snape gives him a calming draught, tells him what he needs to hear, and tries to hold the line between protection and the storm that’s already rolling in.

Transcript

Chapter 9: Halloween, Part 2

“You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you!

I’ll kill you!” 

Severus rounded a corner, trying to sneak his way to the astronomy tower when he suddenly found himself confronted by Argus Filch, who was lunging at a student in front of what seemed like the entire castle. BANG!

In front of a hundred witnesses, including Albus Dumbledore and half a dozen professors, Severus Snape cast a spell that forcibly removed Argus from Harry Potter’s face, where he had been screaming his death threats. The fact that the spell sent Argus slamming into the opposite wall, leaving him with a minor cut, was of no concern to Severus.

“What is the meaning of this?” he hissed at the caretaker. “Harry Potter’s gone and killed my cat, my Mrs.

Norris!” Argus howled, glaring past Severus at Harry. Severus turned to see Harry standing next to Susan Bones and Luna Lovegood.

He scrutinized Harry closely; aside from a sickly pallor and a slight tremor in his limbs, he appeared unhurt. His gaze shifted, and he noticed Albus detaching the mangy cat Argus owned from a torch bracket.

Graffiti was painted on the wall: "The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened. Enemies of the Heir, Beware." That couldn’t possibly be good.

A subtle, probing glance at Harry received a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Harry hadn’t done this.

“Come with me, Argus,” Albus said to Filch. “You, too, Mr.

Potter, Miss Lovegood, Miss Bones.” 

Gilderoy stepped forward eagerly. “My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—”

“Thank you, Gilderoy,” Dumbledore replied.

Severus curled his lip as he followed behind the others, Minerva squaring her shoulders in stride beside him. They entered Gilderoy’s office, and Severus nearly lost his composure right then and there.

The vanity of the man was overwhelming. The scene was incomprehensible.

At least twenty photos, paintings, and what appeared to be a charmed tea kettle adorned with Gilderoy’s image cluttered the room. It was utterly disgusting.

As Severus scanned the area with disdain, Albus began examining Argus’s deceased cat. “It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifian Torture,” he mused.

“I’ve seen it used many times. How unfortunate I wasn’t there; I know the very countercurse that could have saved her…”

In that moment, Severus found it difficult to determine what was more irritating: Gilderoy’s incessant ramblings, Argus’s heaving sobs, Minerva and Albus’s mutterings, or Harry’s pale face and flickering gaze, which never settled on Severus.

This made it impossible for him to gauge the boy’s current mental state. Surprisingly, Luna Lovegood was the least annoying person in the room.

Severus would never admit it, but he had a certain fondness for the eccentric young witch. She was an exceptional potioneer who adhered to safety rules and guidelines to the letter.

She also seemed willing to assist the less capable members of her house, even if they rarely accepted her help. He appreciated her efforts nonetheless.

“...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou,” Gilderoy droned on, his voice slicing through Severus’s thoughts like a knife. “A series of attacks; the full story’s in my autobiography.

I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets that cleared the matter up at once…”

As he spoke, the images of Gilderoy on the walls nodded in agreement. Severus noticed Harry edging away from a particularly gaudy painting that sported a hairnet and winked at him.

Finally, Dumbledore straightened up. “She’s not dead, Argus,” he said softly to the caretaker.

Gilderoy halted abruptly in the middle of recounting the number of murders he had supposedly prevented. Thank Merlin for that.

Severus held no desire to listen to any more of Gilderoy’s self-serving tales. Severus felt no love for Argus or his cat; he was simply relieved that Gilderoy had finally stopped talking.

“Not dead?” Argus choked, peering through his fingers at Mrs. Norris.

“But why is she all— all stiff and frozen?”

“She has been Petrified,” Albus explained. “Ah!

I thought so!” Gilderoy interjected. “But how, I cannot say...” Albus continued.

“Ask him!” shrieked the distraught caretaker, turning his blotched and tear-stained face toward Harry. Severus shot him a cold look and stepped closer to Harry.

If Argus so much as twitched in Harry’s direction, he would find himself as stunned as his cat apparently was. “I didn’t do anything!

I swear,” Harry defended himself. “I just found her, and the wall, like that!”

Albus turned his serious blue eyes to Harry.

“Harry, I need the absolute truth. Have you done anything recently that you wish to discuss with me?

We can find a more private place if you’d like to explain,” he added, glancing at the witches on either side of Harry. Severus was about to step in to defend the boy when Luna Lovegood beat him to it.

“Don’t be silly,” she giggled, her blue eyes drifting around the room lazily. “Harry isn’t a real snake.”

That was the one thing Severus did not appreciate about Luna.

When she spoke, it was often with nonsensical statements like that. Of course, Harry was a true Slytherin; no other student had ever embodied the house as well as he.

Severus watched carefully as Albus intensified his gaze on Harry, choosing to ignore the tiny blonde witch. “Harry,” Albus prodded firmly.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

Severus felt a wave of foreboding at the Headmaster's intense gaze. Surely, he wasn’t attempting to legilimize a twelve-year-old minor without consent in a room full of witnesses?

“Nothing, sir,” Harry spat. “Though—”

"I'm starting to get a headache," Harry said, a subtle twitch of his left index finger betraying his discomfort.

Severus interpreted this as Potter-Code for, ‘yes, Albus is absolutely trying to legilimize a twelve-year-old with nearly impenetrable mental barriers.’ 

"If I may speak, Headmaster," Severus interjected smoothly. "Potter and his friends were undoubtedly in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Miss Bones flashed Severus a small smile, seemingly pleased with his defense.

"Why were you not at the feast?" Albus asked quietly, directing his question solely at Harry. "We went to Sir Nicholas's Death Day Party, sir," Miss Bones replied.

"And afterwards?" Albus pressed. "I don’t believe any of you would have passed this corridor to reach either your common rooms or the Great Hall?"

Severus felt his wand hand tense slightly as Albus continued to corner Potter in a lie.

"Harry isn’t feeling well," Luna said softly. "He wanted to find Professor Snape, and the nargles said he would be looking at the stars soon."

Minerva glanced at Severus, raising a single brow.

He scowled in response. He had actually been headed to the astronomy tower to relax; the 31st of October was always a terrible night for him, and he rarely felt like spending the evening in his isolated dungeon room.

He couldn’t fathom how Luna knew this, nor what on earth nargles were supposed to be. "Is this the truth, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir." Harry lowered his head and shuffled his feet. "I just—just wanted to ask for a potion, you know?

I didn’t think I’d sleep too well tonight with it being the—the anniversary and all." He let out a slight sniffle, and Miss Bones gently rubbed his back. As terribly false as Severus was sure the story was, it was also masterful.

Minerva looked at the small boy with pity shining clearly on her face, and Albus regained a slight twinkle in his eyes. "The boy..."

“Is lying!” Argus shrieked.

“My cat has been petrified, and I want him punished!”

“His name is not ‘boy,’” Severus hissed. After his deep dive into Potter’s traumatic memories, he found it impossible to hear anyone refer to the child as ‘boy’ without feeling his stomach churn.

He would sooner call him James than use that term. Potter inched slightly backward, moving closer to Severus.

Apparently, his irritation at being protected from himself did not extend to being shielded from others. “We will be able to cure her, Argus,” Albus said.

“Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they reach full size, I’ll have a potion made that will revive Mrs.

Norris.”

“I’ll make it,” Gilderoy chimed in. “I must have done it a hundred times.

I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—”

Severus was about to inform the infuriating man just what he thought of Gilderoy attempting to take over his role when Potter spoke up, his voice icy. “I believe Professor Snape is the highest-ranking and youngest-ever Potions Master in the United Kingdom.”

The three professors stared at Potter in momentary silence.

Minerva wore a slight smile at the corner of her lips, while Gilderoy turned a satisfying shade of red from the dressing down. As for Severus, he found himself gazing down at Potter’s head, blinking in surprise.

Never had he been so vehemently defended since Lily. Even during his arrest, Albus's defense, while adequate, had lacked that level of passion.

It seemed he was quite forgiven for the cardinal mistake of treating Potter as if the traumas of his past might impact his present-day mental health. “You may go,” Albus said to Potter, Bones, and Lovegood.

“If any of you,” he gave a meaningful look to Lovegood and Bones, “later recall any information that may assist us with the matter…”

“Please come speak with me immediately.” Miss Bones must have sensed the underlying message because she shot Albus a scowl before dramatically gripping Potter's hand and pulling him from the room, with Lovegood trailing behind them. Once the door closed, Minerva turned to Albus.

“Do you think it’s possible?” she asked. “I believe,” Albus replied, glancing quickly at Minerva and Severus, “that we should leave Gilderoy and Argus to the rest of their night.

Argus, please take Mrs. Norris to your quarters; she can rest comfortably until Severus and Poppy have procured the restorative drought.

Good night, gentlemen.” 

With a small gesture of farewell, Albus made his way to his office, and Severus followed, sure that was what Albus wanted, along with Minerva. As they passed the spot where the cat had been hanging, Severus glanced again at the message on the wall.

‘The Chamber of Secrets’ glowed in blood-red letters. He prayed that no student would connect the legendary chamber to the House of Slytherin.

His snakes were already unfairly discriminated against, and this would only heighten the prejudice. “Come,” Albus murmured, sighing unhappily at the wall.

“There is much to be discussed.”

When Severus left the Headmaster's office, it was nearly midnight. Albus spun a tale that Minerva had been partially aware of, while Severus had no knowledge at all.

Tom Riddle had located and opened the Chamber of Secrets before. He had commanded a monster within that chamber to attack his fellow students, ultimately leading to one death.

It filled Severus with regret to know that Rubeus, the gentle giant, had lost his chance to complete his magical training because of the manipulations of a teenage Dark Lord. Though, Rubeus should not have harbored creatures like acromantula within a castle full of students.

It seemed as if the events of the past were unfolding once again, or, as Severus had argued and fervently hoped to be true, a new threat was emerging. A student was playing a malicious Halloween prank.

Severus remembered how Albus had expressed his suspicions about Potter. “Do keep an eye on him, won’t you?” Albus had said.

Severus would certainly keep an eye on Potter. The last thing the boy needed was to get tangled up once again in the suspicious circumstances surrounding Albus’ theories.

He needed to find Potter tomorrow and warn him. “What in Merlin's name are you doing here, you foolish child?” Severus exclaimed as he realized Potter had found him.

The boy was leaning against Severus’ door, a wild look in his eyes. “It wasn’t me,” Potter blurted out immediately.

“Please, I swear I didn’t do it. You have to believe me.” He was ranting and appeared deeply unsettled.

“Quiet, Potter. Follow me.” Severus stepped toward the door to his private quarters, noticing Potter standing stiffly, his eyes darting between the door and Severus.

“You require a calming draught, and I need a headache reliever. Come along,” he urged, prodding the boy.

Potter slowly shuffled beside Severus, keeping a slight distance. Severus opened his private entrance and waved Potter inside.

He moved to his store to grab the necessary potions, leaving Potter to gaze around uncertainly. “Here,” he said, thrusting a lavender-colored potion toward Potter.

“Drink this, then explain why you’re outside my door at midnight, needlessly protesting your innocence to me.” 

He felt a moment of surprise at Potter’s trust as the boy quickly drank the potion. Almost instantly, the trembling in his limbs ceased, and he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Can—can I sit, sir?” Potter asked quietly. “Certainly.” Severus guided him to the sofa and watched as Potter slumped down onto the seat.

“Why were you in that corridor?” he asked. “I didn’t do it,” Potter replied, evading the question.

“I didn’t attack that cat, and I didn’t open the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“I believe—”

"I do not believe you needed to wait outside my office to convince me of this," Severus said simply. Potter pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture of irritation he likely picked up from Severus, which was amusing in its own right.

"When I got back to the dorm, everyone was acting strange," Potter said. "They were scared of me...

even Theo was acting weird. I told them I’m not the 'Heir of Slytherin,' but nobody listened."

Severus tried to phrase his next question without using the word ‘feelings’.

"And why did that unsettle you?" he asked. "I thought you found the fear of your housemates to be emboldening?"

Potter shrugged.

"It’s different when they’re scared of me for something I actually did. Then I wanted it and earned it.

This time, they’re scared of me for something someone else did. And..." He hesitated, squinting hard at the floor.

"... it’s different.

They’re not just scared; it’s like they’re impressed? Or they think I’m some hero for killing a little cat."

"The cat is alive," Severus reminded him gently.

"And with a bit of luck, this whole evening will turn out to be a ridiculous prank, and your housemates will once again treat you with the terror you have earned."

Potter grinned at him before yawning widely. "You should go to sleep, Potter," Severus said, not unkindly.

"Things will undoubtedly look better in the morning."

Potter nodded quietly, thanking him for the potion before leaving his quarters. Severus prayed this would turn out to be a terrible prank, and that his advice would not be in vain.

He truly could not have foreseen the events that were about to unfold within the castle.