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It was the same voice again, the cold, murderous voice Harry had heard in Lockhart's office.

“....... Hungry....... It's been a long time......"

Harry staggered to a halt, grabbed the stone wall, and listened intently. He looked around, squinting his eyes, looking up and down the dimly lit aisles.

He struggled to distinguish the voice in the cacophony.

"Harry?" Ron patted him on the shoulder, "You don't want to eat any more pudding-"

"Listen—that voice comes again, don't speak yet—"

Ron and Hermione froze, staring at him.

Harry looked at Casto as if asking for help.

"Even if I could hear it, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to hear it now." Casto rubbed his ears in anguish, trying to keep his voice as quiet as he could.

“...... Homicide...... It's time......."

The voice is getting weaker and weaker. Harry could be sure it was moving—moving upwards. He stared at the pitch-black ceiling, and a feeling of fear and excitement suddenly occurred in his heart: how could it possibly move upwards? Could it be a ghost, and the stone ceiling can't stop it at all?

"Take me to see it." Castor whispered, his eyes shining with excitement as well.

"Go this way." Harry shouted, and ran up the stairs and into the foyer. The laughter and laughter of Halloween feasts echoed through the auditorium, and it was unlikely that anything else would be heard. He ran up the marble staircase at full speed to the second floor.

Harry hated his footsteps a little, and was even annoyed at why he was panting. But Casto followed him and didn't make a sound.

Harry pricked up his ears as much as he could.

Distance, one floor above, the voice came again, but it grew fainter.

"It's found its target!" Harry shouted, taking two steps up the stairs and listening to the sound of his heavy footsteps.

Castor grew more and more excited.

When he was in his first year, he learned from Harry's letter that Hogwarts was a dark, crisis-ridden castle. Although much of it was made up by Harry or deliberately exaggerated, Castor was eager for such a challenging school.

Today his dream seems to be coming true.

Casto ran as he pulled his gear out of his pocket.

With his wand in his left hand and a silver dagger in his right, he silently followed Harry like a ghost.

Harry raced around the third floor, leaving Ron and Hermione behind.

They kept going, and finally turned a corner and came into an empty aisle.

Harry stopped.

"Right here?" Casto asked.

"No—" Harry panted, grabbing his collar, "no—I can't hear you." ”

But something interesting has emerged.

On the walls of the hallway, something was shining. Casto approached eagerly, making out in the darkness. Between the two windows, on the wall a foot above the ground, there was some scribbling, shimmering in the light of the burning torches.

"The chamber was opened.

Those who are enemies of the heirs, be wary. ”

Casto exclaimed.

And that's not all. In addition to the text, a few things are attached.

The footsteps in the distance drew closer, and finally stopped. Heavy gasps behind Casto increased.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron's voice, a little shaky, "Oh—those—what?" ”

"Come and see." Casto stepped aside and made an inviting gesture.

They approached cautiously, and Harry almost slipped: there was a large pool of water on the ground. Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and little by little they approached the sign, their eyes fixed on a dark shadow below. The three of them saw what it was at the same time, and jumped backwards in fright, making a splash.

"Lady Loris—don't come unharmed."

It was the janitor's cat, with its tail hanging from the torch holder, its body stiff as a plank, its eyes wide open, staring straight at it.

The three men stood motionless in the middle of the hallway for several seconds. Casto crossed his arms and leaned against the wall to the side, looking at the petrified cat.

"Let's get out of here." Ron's voice was still shaky.

"I think—maybe—a salvage—" Harry said not very fluently.

"Listen to me," Ron said, "we don't want to be found here. ”

However, it was too late. A low clamor of noise, like thunder in the distance, told them that the feast had just ended. From both ends of the corridor they were in, the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs and the cheerful laughter of people after a full meal could be heard. Then, the students pushed and shoved into the aisle from both ends.

When the person in front saw the upside-down cat, the boisterous and chirping suddenly disappeared. Three stood alone in the middle of the hallway, and another leaned against the wall with interest. The students fell silent and rushed forward to see the horrific scene.

The students left a lot of space for them.

However, the silence was not destined to last long. In a corner, there was a small discussion. It was like throwing a spark at a pile of explosives, and a heated argument erupted.

All the students eagerly discussed. Someone finally screamed, someone shouted with joy, and—guessing why the heir's enemy was a cat,and—

Who is the successor? What is a secret room?

"What's going on here?"

The crowd slowly fell silent, but no one left.

Filch was undoubtedly drawn to the heated discussion, and he squeezed his shoulders through the crowd. Then he saw Lady Loris. He stumbled back a few steps, clutching his face with his hands in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What happened to Lady Loris? He screamed.

At that moment, his bulging eyes saw Harry standing still, and Castor leaning against the wall.

"Potter!" He screamed, "You! You killed my cat! And you! Black! You're with Potter again! You're taking revenge on me—"

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he remembered something hard to forget. He staggered over, gasping for air, about to continue screaming—

Castor stared strangely in his direction, unconcerned that his face was hideous, and he walked with steps, getting closer and closer—

"Filch!"

Dumbledore arrived at the scene, followed by a number of teachers. In the blink of an eye, he walked up to the four men and untied Lady Loris from the torch holder.

Castor still had a strange look in his eyes.

He didn't look at Filch, but behind him.

Draco. Malfoy.

He had already crowded to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes were alive, and his normally bloodless face was flushed. He looked at the still, stiff cat hanging there, and his face became hideous.

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief again, and smiled smugly at Casto.

.

Castor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were taken to the nearest office in Lockhart.

They exchanged glances, then sat down in a few chairs that were not lit by candlelight, and watched the professors closely.

But Casto didn't bother to speak or explain, because it had nothing to do with them. If Harry hadn't heard the mysterious voice, they wouldn't have been there.

In this room, apart from them, there are calm Dumbledore and McGonagall, a mad Filch, a sneering Snape, and Lockhart, who is bouncing around and constantly pretending to fail.

"It must have been a spell that killed it—" Lockhart smirked.

Soon after.

"It's not dead." Dumbledore spoke.

Lockhart was silent.

"It's petrified." Dumbledore continued.

Lockhart looked very happy.

"Ahh I think so too! ”

Also, Filch seems to be pretty sure that the murder was done by Harry and Castor. The reason was that Harry was in his office and happened to find out that he was a Squib.

But Casto couldn't understand why he had to add a piece of himself.

Filch thinks that if he is with Harry, he will make a big noise?

In the first Potions lesson, Snape seemed to think so.

Unfounded.

Dumbledore glared at Filch, his face twitching, and he didn't speak. For him, it was already the best of the best—Mrs. Sprout had recently gotten some mandrakes, and as soon as they were ripe, there was a medicine that brought Mrs. Loris back to life.

Although Snape tried to embarrass them, at Dumbledore's insistence, Casto and the others soon left.

Castor felt that the gloomy gaze was still focused on him, and closed the door very politely.