Unlike last time, there were no messages left on the wall at the scene.
Even so, the same type of irreversible petrification was enough to confirm it was the same attacker—or rather, the same unknown entity from the Chamber of Secrets.
What was strange, though, was the method. The victim had once again been petrified, but for some reason, the attacker hadn't used the usual theatrics. If the goal was to stir panic, simply scribbling a few ominous words on the wall would've been more than enough. So why not do that?
Right now, Draco and the others were investigating the scene...
At first, Pansy had been excited to participate in something with Draco. But as time dragged on and Draco hardly spoke, her enthusiasm began to wane.
She couldn't help but think she'd be better off practicing Quidditch—after all, she didn't want to disappoint Draco.
"How long are you planning to stay here? And why are you suddenly so interested in this anyway, Draco?"
If someone close to them had been the victim, Pansy wouldn't have questioned Draco's concern. But the person lying in the hospital wing wasn't just a Gryffindor—he was a Weasley. And Draco hated both.
So why was he bothering?
Unless... he'd fallen for that cat, and was out to avenge it?
"I don't know what you're thinking, but it's definitely not whatever you've got in mind."
Seeing the odd look on her face, Draco—well aware of just how bizarre Pansy's imagination could get—cut her off immediately.
Who knew what absurd conclusions she'd reach if left unchecked?
Pansy blinked.
"Then why are you doing this?"
"Hmm... probably because I don't want to see the Gamekeeper replaced. If they put some other wizard in that post, it'll be a huge headache."
"..."
What does the Gamekeeper have to do with anything?
If she remembered correctly, the Gamekeeper Draco was talking about was that half-giant, Hagrid.
Pansy tilted her head slightly, utterly confused. The look on her face was so adorably clueless, it made you want to ruffle her hair on instinct.
Draco didn't bother explaining further. He slipped the Prefect badge into his pocket and turned to leave.
"Let's check out another location."
"W-Wait for me!"
Seeing that Draco was just walking off without her, Pansy stomped her foot in frustration, then hurried to catch up.
They were heading in the direction of the West Tower—where the owlery was located...
...
Ding ding ding~
As the Prefect badge floated up and down in the air, Pansy's little head bobbed along with it. If Percy saw how Draco was treating the badge he cherished so much, he'd probably leap right out of his hospital bed in outrage.
After all, Percy polished that badge three times a day—using expensive magical stain remover, no less...
When Draco and the others arrived, they found the place surrounded by large, glassless windows. Not only did this allow owls to come and go freely, but it also kept the space well-ventilated and cool.
This was Hogwarts' designated owlery, where all the students' owls stayed.
"The owlery, huh? Doesn't look like there's any clue here."
"But at least it confirms that before arriving, that Weasley was attacked somewhere else."
"So we came all the way here for nothing?"
For nothing?
Not quite—there were still clues...
"What do you think wizards usually come here to do?"
"What else? To send letters, obviously."
"Then what if it was because of that—sending a letter—that the victim was targeted? Could that be the reason?"
"You mean..."
"Exactly. The attacker must have known the victim was about to send a letter. And there's a good chance they even knew what was in it."
In other words, whoever petrified Percy might've been someone close to him.
Was it the witch who gave us the itinerary?
A friend?
Or someone hiding in even deeper shadows?
As she watched Draco's focused expression, his eyes sharp with insight, Pansy shyly looked away. Under the curious gazes of Goyle and Crabbe, she pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady the sudden quickening of her heartbeat.
At that moment, Draco seemed to remember something and turned toward Pansy.
She jumped slightly, thinking he'd noticed her reaction.
"Did you get a reply?"
"Eh? What... Oh, if you mean that, it wasn't my father who asked me to write."
"Oh?"
Draco frowned at the owl tilting its head at him, then turned to Goyle and Crabbe.
"Come to think of it, I never did ask—why exactly were Pansy's father and mine at Diagon Alley that day? More specifically, why were they so intent on bothering the Weasleys?"
"Uh... we're not really sure," Goyle replied. "They just told us to come along and try to distract the Weasleys. They didn't say anything else."
Draco wasn't surprised. If understanding his father's intentions were that easy, he'd actually start to suspect something was wrong.
Just as he was about to give up, Crabbe suddenly spoke up.
"Actually... I did overhear something."
"Hm?"
"It sounded like... they were looking for something."
Draco didn't press further—if Crabbe knew more, he would've already said it. But even this little bit was important.
"Looks like if we want answers, we'll have to ask them directly."
Draco nodded and glanced up at the cloudy sky.
Assuming nothing unexpected happened, his father would likely show up if another attack occurred. And that could be any day now.
After all, his father was one of the twelve wizards on the Hogwarts Board of Governors...