HP: DnD Chapter 26

Chapter 26: The Chamber

The excitement in the hall evaporated in an instant, the hope for a peaceful and enjoyable night vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. The once-inviting feast, which had everyone eagerly drooling over the food, now felt suffocating.

Hagrid hurried toward the stage, his large frame moving quickly across the hall. Each heavy step he took, echoed on the stone floor, adding to the tense atmosphere.

The students watched in stunned silence, some exchanging hushed whispers, others too stunned to speak, but almost all were gripped by curiosity and worry. 

“Petrified?” Ron muttered, his voice barely audible amidst the heavy atmosphere. “Did someone take the bullying too far?”

Damien and Harry were silent, their expressions grim. They knew all too well that many students lacked boundaries, often pushing their pranks beyond reasonable limits, sometimes with harmful consequences. The idea that someone might have cursed another student with petrification in the middle of the school’s garden didn’t seem far-fetched.

The two exchanged a look, neither of them dismissing the possibility that one of their peers had been reckless enough to use such a dangerous spell.

After several tense minutes, during which Hagrid whispered urgently to Dumbledore, the headmaster turned to address the room. 

“Students,” Dumbledore’s voice cut through the heavy silence, “please remain in the hall and continue to enjoy your meal. Take your time, and appreciate the ambiance.”

It was a difficult request for many. The excitement had dissipated, and most students had lost their appetite upon hearing about the disturbing incident. Some were already on edge, and the urge to leave the hall and find out more was almost palpable.

In the midst of the confusion, Damien noticed Professor Flitwick trailing behind Dumbledore. Despite his small stature, the professor was keeping up, evidently intent on reaching the garden to investigate the petrified student.

“Daphne,” Damien said, turning to the girl beside him. “Ron, Hermione, and Harry, I’m sorry, but I need to go.” 

He pushed his chair back, placing his hands firmly on the table as he prepared to follow the professors, despite the headmaster’s instructions to stay put.

“We—” Hermione began, standing up as if to follow, but Harry gently grabbed her arm.

He too was curious and wanted to go after Dumbledore, but he knew better than to act rashly. He doubted even Damien would be allowed to follow the professors, but the determined look on Damien’s face made him think there was more going on than it seemed.

“Call us if you need us,” Harry said, trying to quell his own impatience and keep himself in check.

Damien gave him a quick nod before slipping through the crowd of students. Eyes followed him, some amused, others doubtful that the professors would let him get away with disobeying the headmaster's orders. Even a few of the older students tried to follow him, but Damien’s agility allowed him to slip away, vanishing into the crowd before they could catch up.

Damien moved quickly, hoping to reach Flitwick before the rest of the crowd followed suit. He needed to understand the situation, to gather information before anyone else had a chance to get there.

‘Petrification is a high-level curse,’ Damien thought, the weight of the realization sinking in. Only a select few students were skilled enough to perform such a spell, and it wouldn’t be hard to narrow down the list of suspects. His mind, however, wasn’t on the curse alone—it was on the forbidden spells he had been learning in the library, including petrification.

If the professors found out about his extracurricular studies, he knew it wouldn’t take long for them to connect the dots. He needed to act fast, to make sure he could get ahead of the situation before things spiraled out of control.

“Professor!” Damien called, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd as he spotted Flitwick lagging behind. The tiny professor’s small steps made it hard for him to keep up with the urgency of the situation.

“Damien?” Flitwick looked surprised to see the second-year student. “What are you doing here?”

The professor’s disapproval was evident, his brow furrowed in concern. “You shouldn’t be out here, especially with something this serious going on. The headmaster specifically asked all students to stay inside.”

Damien, however, was not about to turn back. “I was one of the representatives for the event, Professor,” he said smoothly. “I was helping with the decorations around the school, and I might be able to assist with this situation.”

It was a lie, of course. Damien had stayed far from the garden, focusing his attention on the pumpkin decorations inside the school. But Flitwick didn’t need to know that.

Flitwick hesitated, his concern for the boy evident in his gaze. “Even so, it’s dangerous out there.”

“You’ve trained me, Professor,” Damien said earnestly. “I promise I won’t be a burden.”

Damien knew he needed to gain Flitwick’s trust and approval. If he was going to navigate this situation without drawing suspicion, he needed the professor on his side. And if things went wrong, Flitwick’s support would be crucial in building his alibi.

Flitwick eyed Damien warily, clearly torn. But despite his concerns, neither of them slowed their pace. The professor didn't issue any commands to stop Damien or force him to turn back.

Damien felt a small sense of relief. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The professor might not be thrilled with him following, but at least he wasn’t being sent back to the hall.

They continued moving swiftly, the urgency of the situation hanging in the air like a heavy fog. Damien’s mind raced. He needed to make sure he was in the right place at the right time, and with Flitwick’s help, he might just manage to stay one step ahead of the professors and the consequences that loomed.

“Make sure to stay behind and stay safe,” Flitwick instructed. “If the headmaster says anything, tell him you were helping me.”

Damien felt a wave of gratitude toward the man. Flitwick had never once let him down or denied any request he made, and even now, the professor continued to support him.

When they neared the garden and saw Snape standing near the entrance with a deep frown etched on his face, Flitwick stepped forward.

“I asked him to come with me, Snape,” Flitwick explained. “He has been assisting with the decorations for Halloween, and he might be able to offer help.”

“It’s still not wise to bring a child, Professor Flitwick,” Snape replied, his frown unwavering. “The headmaster would not approve.”

Despite his words, Snape did not stop Flitwick. He was a man who only acted when absolutely necessary, and this situation did not seem to require drastic measures.

“So, is it the result of a curse, or something from a cursed object?” Flitwick asked, taking slow steps into the garden with Snape and Damien following.

“There was no object found near him,” Snape replied. “The victim is a first-year student from Gryffindor, found holding his camera that he brought from the Muggle world.”

“Anything else that might help identify the cause?” Flitwick asked. “And has the petrification been reversed?”

At this, Snape shook his head. “There’s no sign of a cursed object involved, and the petrification isn’t responding to a disenchantment spell either.”

Flitwick halted at the news. “So, it’s not a curse that someone cast on him?”

Damien breathed a sigh of relief, figuring that they might not immediately suspect students skilled in petrification curses. However, the danger was far from over.

“Professor,” Damien decided to speak up and join the conversation. “If the boy was carrying a camera, it’s possible that he captured the cause of his petrification on film.”

The suggestion was met with new interest.

“That…” Flitwick said thoughtfully, glancing at Damien. “That might actually work.”

By this point, they had arrived at the scene and saw Dumbledore and Hagrid standing over the petrified figure of the boy, both with expressions of concern.

“I specifically asked that no students follow,” Dumbledore remarked, his attention still focused on the boy.

“I brought him because he was in charge of the decorations, Professor Dumbledore,” Flitwick explained. “He might—”

“I’m aware,” Dumbledore interrupted. “I gave him the task of being a representative.” He turned slowly to face Flitwick. “But that does not mean it’s wise for a child to be present at such a dangerous scene.”

Damien opened his mouth to say something but fell silent as Dumbledore spoke again.

“You should return once you’ve shared your thoughts, Mr. Butler,” Dumbledore said calmly. “For now, we must take Mr. Creevy to Madame Pomfrey. She may be able to figure out a way to reverse this petrification.”

Despite the words, Dumbledore’s tone suggested a lack of optimism. Without knowing the cause of the petrification, finding a cure seemed nearly impossible.

“It’s too complex a petrification for something as simple as children’s pranks or bullying,” Snape remarked. “And no Dementor or foul creature can enter this side of the school.”

The creatures of the Forbidden Forest were kept far from the school, and the many magical defenses that protected Hogwarts made it almost impossible for any dark entity to enter.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed. “However, we still need to know where the students were in the hours and days leading up to this event. And most importantly, we must figure out when this petrification occurred and why Filch hasn’t reported the boy as missing if it happened more than a day ago.”

Damien felt a pang of worry. He knew he had to create some solid alibis. His frequent trips to the library and his unexplained absences in the mornings and nights could easily raise suspicion.

He also needed to come up with a plausible reason for how he knew about petrification curses.

‘There is one…’ He thought, though he wasn’t entirely sure when to use it. What he had was a magical ability, and he feared that if he used it in front of everyone, someone might notice or sense the magic.

As if on cue, their concerns were interrupted by a loud shout from a distance.

“Professor!”

A student—clearly a final-year student—rushed toward them, sweating and visibly shaken.

“I told the students to stay inside, and that includes the older ones,” Dumbledore said, though the boy was in no condition to heed such instructions.

“No…” the boy stammered, his voice trembling. “Words have appeared on the wall, Professor, written in blood.”

A shocked silence fell over the group, and all eyes turned to the student.

“Where?” Dumbledore asked, his voice darker than ever.

“Second floor… near Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,” the boy panted.

“What did it say?” Flitwick inquired, his worry now palpable.

The student took a shaky breath before revealing the terrifying message. “It said… The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.”

The moment the words left his mouth, every professor and adult in the group went pale, visibly shaken. Damien, however, stood in stunned silence, a growing sense of dread settling in. He realized that this was far more than just a simple case of petrification.

The situation had escalated into something much darker, and the stakes had never been higher.