The girl’s mother had made her swear to never get involved with the village people. It was a drastic step to ensure the secrets of her family would not be revealed to the ignorant villagers.

“Same as yours,” answered George, taking the letter and shoving it deep into his school bag, “it just said that Fred and I better keep in line or else she’ll set our attic ghoul on us.”

“We are new here, we barely know any of the bodiless voices that roam Hogwarts,” said Fred with sarcasm. The voice didn’t reply but instead revealed it's identity, but in Stephanie’s opinion there wasn’t much to see. The voice belonged to a short plump body, with a twisted mouth and eyes that glistened with trouble. It sat cross-legged in mid air, grinning at them evilly.

Fellow Gryffindors that passed by the team gave them claps on the back, wishing them luck and joining in on the complaints that surrounded the weather. Stephanie smiled inwardly, her mind thinking of Wood once again, as she tried to focus her attention on the food in front of her.

As the last word escaped his mouth, the darkest of black ink began to pour out of the tip of his wand in a heavy flow. But instead of forming a puddle around where the wand met the parchment, it began to snake over every spot of the beige paper, creating shapes, lines, and words.