Enjoy!
The dormitory was quiet at one in the morning. The students had fallen asleep, mostly around eleven, and weren't likely to be woken. The curtains were drawn around their four-poster beds, maroon velvet hanging in heavy ripples. Suddenly, through the soft material on one of the beds, a small, pale finger poked through, followed by three others, and a thumb.
The curtains parted slowly, and a cloaked figure loomed in the darkness behind it. Its hood covered its hair and shadowed it's face, hiding its identity from any who might see it. It slinked off the bed, wand in its hand, and headed towards the staircase to start its descent.
The figure then traveled up another staircase, and entered a room practically identical to the first. Its eyes scoured the room, searching empty crannies for subtle clues. Its vision rested on one item- a pair of dark glasses lying carelessly, lenses down, on a bedside table. The figure walked, almost weightlessly, towards the bed the glasses lay near.
Suddenly, a light groaning noise arose from a nearby bed, followed by a murmur of "No, stop!" and the sounds of heavy thrashing. The figure's attention wasn't easily distracted. It was another one of the redheaded boy's nightmares, it knew. It came here often.
Reaching out its pale hand, it parted the curtains to reveal a sleeping sixteen-year-old boy, dark hair strewn against a pale olive forehead. His lips were parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with his breath. The figure reached out to touch his face, but pulled away harshly at contact, gasping slightly as if the skin were hot to the touch.
It shuddered, and looked down, seemingly realizing it's actions on its midnight escapade. Closing the curtains, it sauntered back to the staircase, ashamed and alone.
Stopping at the top, it seemed to be making a decision. It sighed, and brought one hand up to its head, pushing the silky black hood down. It stole one last look at the boy's bed, feeling exposed, for its features were now visible. Seamus Finnigan silently watched through the crack in his curtains as Ginny Weasley started quickly down the staircase, back into the loneliness. He wiped a tear from his eye, and layed back into his soft, downy bed.