My partner at Hogwarts is Tom

Chapter 85 Patrol and Felch

The search that night was like a stone thrown into a deep pool; it initially stirred up a few ripples, but was quickly swallowed up by the boundless darkness and silence.

The professors moved through the corridors, staircases, abandoned classrooms, and empty galleries, the light from the tips of their wands illuminating their solemn and weary faces.

Professor McGonagall devised a meticulous patrol route, and Professor Flitwick examined every mural and carving that might conceal mechanisms or hidden doors.

Professor Sprout even examined the soil of all the large potted plants in the castle and the moss next to the ventilation ducts.

Like a giant bat, Snape silently swept through every corner of the cellar and potion storeroom, not missing a single trace of suspicious potion or magical material residue.

Victor, with Tom by his side, focused their inspection on the areas of the castle associated with ancient legends of magical creatures.

They examined the towers that were rumored to have been nests of winged beasts, explored the clock tower corridors that were said to be haunted by invisible beasts, and even sneaked into several ancient greenhouse ruins covered in dust and cobwebs.

Tom remained highly alert, his ears like the most sophisticated radar, capturing the slightest sound, his nostrils flaring, not missing a single unusual odor.

However, aside from a few frightened vixens, a group of goblins busy repairing tapestries torn by Peeves, and several ancient, long-dead prank magic traps, they found nothing.

The Chamber of Secrets, along with the "monster" or "successor" capable of casting the petrification curse, seemed to have completely blended into the bricks and shadows of Hogwarts over the past millennium, leaving no trace.

The professors' only "gain" was a few ignorant young wizards who tried to "explore" or "meet" in the middle of Halloween night.

They ran into professors who were on edge and highly vigilant, and their fate was naturally tragic.

A fifth-year Ravenclaw couple were caught by Snape near the restricted section of the library. They were each deducted fifty points and given the "honor" of cleaning the armor in the prize room every night for a month.

A Hufflepuff third-year student who tried to sneak into the kitchen to steal food was pulled out by Professor Flitwick using a levitation charm, resulting in a deduction of twenty points and an additional week of cleaning up Filch's hallway armor.

The unluckiest student was a fourth-year Gryffindor student who wanted to take advantage of the chaos to try and "summon some Halloween candy" near the Room of Requirement.

As a result, they ran into Professor McGonagall, who was in a very bad mood and had just returned from an observatory inspection.

Then he was immediately penalized with a 30-point deduction and received the severe punishment of "reporting to my office at 7 p.m. every night for the next month to copy the Hogwarts Rules."

The wails and excuses of these unfortunate souls sounded particularly jarring in the silent castle, adding a touch of absurdity and helplessness to this unsettling night.

The professors reprimanded them sternly, emphasizing the gravity of the situation, and then escorted them back to their respective common rooms.

The curfew was strictly enforced, the password was changed temporarily, and the prefects were asked to be extra vigilant.

As the eastern sky began to lighten and the deep darkness of night was gradually dispelled, the weary professors gathered in the lobby.

They exchanged a knowing, solemn look and shook their heads.

The first night's search yielded no results.

Dumbledore showed no surprise or disappointment, but calmly told everyone to go back and rest for a while, and to meet again in the morning to discuss the follow-up plan.

His blue eyes still gleamed with a thoughtful light, as if he had already anticipated that things would not be so simple.

Victor did not return to his office immediately.

With Tom, who was also somewhat tired but still had sharp eyes, perched on his shoulder, he returned to the third-floor corridor where the attack had taken place.

The morning light had not yet fully penetrated into the depths of the castle; it was still dark here, with only the faint, dying glow of the torches on the walls.

A lingering tension from last night still hung in the air, along with the sounds of cleaning agents and brushes scraping against the stone.

Filch is still there.

He hunched over, using a worn-out brush dipped in the murky soapy water from the bucket, and fiercely scrubbed the wall with the warning written on it.

His movements were almost frantic; he gritted his teeth and uttered broken, resentful whispers.

"————Dirty————Vicious————Loss————You will pay the price————Wipe it away————Wipe it clean————"

However, his efforts were completely in vain. The dark, sticky writing seemed to have become part of the stone itself.

The brush could only leave shallow grayish-white scratches and patches of water stains, unable to make any difference whatsoever.

Filch's robe was soaked through, his hands were covered in soap bubbles and stone dust, and his face showed a mixture of exhaustion, anger, and a deep sense of powerlessness.

Viktor watched quietly for a while, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him.

He stepped forward and gently waved his wand: "Clean and refreshed."

A soft light swept across the wall, and the stubborn writing seemed to be covered by a thin veil, instantly becoming dimmer and blurrier, no longer as glaring and ominous as before.

Filch, who was vigorously painting the wall, suddenly stopped.

He stared in astonishment at the changes in the writing on the wall, then looked down at the useless brush in his hand, seemingly unable to comprehend what had happened.

He slowly turned around, his cloudy eyes meeting Victor's calm gaze, and Tom, who was perched on Victor's shoulder, quietly watching him.

"Professor S—Scamander?" Filch's voice was hoarse and dry, filled with disbelief.

“Mr. Filch,” Victor nodded, “the writing on the wall is imbued with strong magic, and cannot be removed by ordinary methods. I’m just making it less conspicuous for now.”

Filch's gaze lingered on Victor's face for a few seconds before shifting to Tom.

He remembered that Mrs. Lorris loved to hang around the professor who always had magical creatures with him, and she didn't dislike the clever cat. She even sometimes got a little dried fish from Tom.

On his gaunt face, the expression that was a mixture of resentment and pain relaxed slightly, and a rare, almost weak look flashed across his face.

"Thank you—thank you, Professor." Filch's voice lowered, with a barely perceptible sob.

"Lolis—it likes you and your cat very much. It—it's just a naughty little thing, all it does all day is follow me on patrol and catch those unruly students—it shouldn't—"

He took a deep breath, as if using all his strength.

Those eyes, which were always full of criticism and anger, were now staring straight at Viktor, burning with an almost desperate plea.

"Professor, you—you know those amazing things, you and your cat are so incredible—please, please find that—that murderer! Whatever it is! Avenge my Loris! It—it's my only—"

He didn't finish his sentence, as if he was afraid that if he continued, the barely maintained defense would completely collapse.

He turned around abruptly, picked up the bucket of dirty water, grabbed a brush, and almost staggered as he quickly disappeared around the corner of the corridor, leaving only the echoing sound of his heavy and disordered footsteps.

Viktor watched him leave, remaining silent for a moment.

Then he raised his wand again and aimed it at the wall.

This time, the incantation he recited was more complex, and the flow from the tip of his wand was no longer a simple cleansing or concealing spell, but a stream of silver-gray light.

The light, like mercury spilling onto the ground, slowly seeped into every crevice of the stone wall.

On the wall, the faded writing, like morning frost exposed to sunlight, melted and evaporated at a visible speed, eventually disappearing completely as if it had never existed.

Only a slightly smooth stone wall surface remains, which is somewhat different from the rest of the stone wall.

The corridor returned to complete silence, even more deathly still than usual.

The torchlight seemed to have dimmed a bit.

Victor did not leave.

He stood in the middle of the empty corridor, his brow furrowed, lost in thought.

Tom jumped onto the windowsill in front of him, curled up, and looked at his master with his emerald eyes, his tail tip swaying gently, as if keeping him company in his thoughts.

Last night, because the incident happened suddenly, a large number of students gathered, and various auras and residual magic were mixed together, like a pond that had been stirred up.

Therefore, the tracking magic items he carried, such as "reflection powder," were completely ineffective, failing to capture any clear and unique "traces."

But that petrifying curse—so complete, done in an instant, carrying with it ancient, resentful, and cold qualities.

Magical creatures or magical creations with similar abilities —

A creature of Medusa's bloodline? Indeed, looking directly into the eyes of the Gorgon would cause petrification.

However, Medusa herself is extremely rare, and her bloodline descendants mostly exist in other forms.

Such a pure and powerful petrifying gaze left no trace of movement; could it be the existence of a bloodline that has reverted to its ancestral form?

The Gu Diao? A mythical beast from Eastern legends, whose gaze can also turn people to stone.

Petrifying monitor lizard? A magical lizard that lives in specific areas, whose saliva or eyes contain a strong petrifying toxicity.

However, their effects are usually slow, and their individual strength is not enough to be so terrifying.

The Chamber of Secrets left by Salazar Slytherin—this monster, or rather its guardian, has existed for at least a thousand years.

A monster that has lived for a thousand years —

Either it is an extremely powerful and long-lived individual.

Such as certain dragons, ancient magical creatures, or ancient beings that are bound by special magic and are in a state of slumber or semi-sealing.

Either it is a group that can reproduce or sustain itself.

But if it's a clan or group, even if they hide it well over a thousand years, traces of their activities, food needs, magical fluctuations, and so on will eventually leak out. It's impossible for them to be completely clueless like they are now.

Moreover, "eliminating the unfit" sounds more like an individual carrying out specific instructions than a group.

Therefore, it is highly likely that he is a powerful individual.

A powerful individual who has been lying dormant for a thousand years in the underground or within the walls of Hogwarts, awaiting the summons or commands of the "Heir".

Viktor's gaze drifted out the window. As dawn broke, the dark green outline of the Forbidden Forest appeared and disappeared in the thin mist, and the surface of the Black Lake rippled with light.

The “creatures” of the Forbidden Forest—horsemen, Thestrals, unicorn families, and even the ancient trees and magical creatures—have lived here for generations, almost as old as the castle itself.

They might sense unusual vibrations from deep within the earth or from ancient magical veins that the wizards inside the castle cannot detect.

Certain creatures that are extremely sensitive to energy and life forms, such as unicorns, might react to that resentful petrifying magic.

There's also Black Lake.

Viktor's gaze fell on the calm surface of the lake.

According to Hagrid and some ancient books, that giant squid likely existed at the very beginning of Hogwarts.

It has lived in the depths of Black Lake for many years, witnessing thousands of years of wind and rain and countless changes inside and outside the castle.

Is there a hidden connection between the lake and the castle's underground pipes, or even some of the legendary secret waterways?

Its enormous size and ancient life form might be able to sense the unusual magical pulse emanating from deep within the castle's foundation.

Tom seemed to sense its owner's thoughts. It stood up, meowed softly, and touched Victor's hand with its paw, its eyes filled with eager anticipation, as if saying, "Let's go ask."

Victor snapped out of his daze, ruffled Tom's hair, and a determined smile appeared on his lips.

"That's right, Tom. There's no point in sitting here daydreaming. Some answers may lie outside the castle," he whispered.

"Go ask our old neighbors who know this land better than we do. First, go to the Forbidden Forest and talk to Bane or Ronan, then visit the unicorn clan—and if time allows, maybe even try to have a chat with that old man in the Black Lake."

He glanced at the walls, now "clean" but still shrouded in an unsettling atmosphere, then turned and walked toward the castle gate.

Tom nimbly leaped onto his shoulder, and the morning light streamed through the high window, casting long shadows of the man and the cat onto the empty corridor floor.

A new day has begun, but the shadows hidden behind the joyous festival seem to have only just begun to unfold.

The road to finding the truth is destined to be bumpy, but at least the direction has begun to emerge.

The morning light draped the forbidden forest in a thin veil, and dewdrops shimmered like diamonds on the spider webs.

Victor led Tom into this ancient yet vibrant land, where the damp earth, the smell of decaying leaves, and the subtle traces left by countless creatures filled the air.

Tom's ears and beard stood up, and he made a low growling sound in his throat, a mixture of excitement and alertness.

They didn't venture too far before encountering patrolling centaurs.

These proud creatures held spears, their upper bodies were muscular, and their lower bodies were strong like those of horses. Their chestnut coats gleamed healthily in the morning light.

The centaur Bain, who was leading the way, recognized Victor. He stomped his forelegs, bowed slightly, and spoke in an ancient and solemn tone.

"Child of Nature, Guide of the Starlight. The Forest senses your sorrow."

"Bane, Ronan, guardians of the forest," Victor returned the greeting with equal solemnity, "Hogwarts is shrouded in shadow, and I need to hear the echoes of ancient wisdom."