As Beater 2 for Pride of Portree, my limitations for Round 6 are the following:
Genre: Suspense
Prompts: 3. (opening sentence) Time was running out, 4. (word) chasing, 9. (word) history
Inversion
Time was running out.
Harry Potter looked up at the giant charmed hourglass that hovered over the professor's desk at the front of the classroom, and gulped loudly as a steady stream of sand trickled through the middle. He racked his brain, but he might as well have shaken Dudley's Magic 8-Ball for all it was helping him to come up with the answers.
"Shush!" Professor McGonagall hissed, giving him a suspicious look.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to focus. He was regretting having gone out under the Invisibility Cloak with Ron the night before. He tried not to glance over at Hermione, who was certain to be staring smugly in his direction. After some time, the urge to look became overwhelming and he glanced over, regretting it immediately. Hermione was staring with a rather irritating smirk on her face. Harry glanced to his left and started at the sight of Ron dead to the world with his face pressed against the parchment, drool dripping from the side of his mouth.
McGonagall moved silently to the front of the classroom. Just as quickly, she returned to Ron's desk with a massive tome. Very deliberately, she raised the book to chest height and dropped it on Ron's desk with a resounding slam.
Ron leapt up and fell out of his chair with a shout.
"No sleeping in my class, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said sternly. "It pains me to say it, but, for your disrespectful behavior, I'm taking ten points from Gryffindor, and you will receive a zero for the day."
Ron went a humiliated shade of red but said nothing. He knew that McGonagall would simply take more points if he protested.
"I was not finished, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall continued, as he pulled himself up and sat back in his chair. "You'll also write twelve inches of parchment on the history of Charms, specifically, Arthurian Era Charms invented by Merlin. It is due tomorrow at nine a.m., sharp."
Ron groaned loudly, and Harry felt a stab of pity, almost forgetting that he'd only filled out his name and the date on his own quiz.
Hermione coughed and Harry wondered how she could sound so self-satisfied by clearing her throat. With a grimace, Harry racked his brain.
Wednesday had only begun, and it was already shaping up to be one hell of a day.
Harry sat slumped over at lunchtime, mumbling miserably.
"I can't believe that we have to go to Defense after this," Ron muttered darkly between liberal mouthfuls of sandwich. "I have half a mind to skip class and go play Exploding Snap with Creevey. How the hell did he get a free period, anyhow? He's younger than we are!"
"You know that Professor Snape will use your absence to take more points off. Or do you want to be the reason that Gryffindor comes in dead last this year?" Hermione replied, rolling her eyes at Ron's bug-eyed expression, "Besides, it's your own faults for gallivanting about in the corridors for no good reason!"
"Tch, now you sound just like Snape," Ron grumbled, grabbing a carafe of pumpkin juice and chugging it down.
Hermione looked disgusted.
"First of all, it's Professor Snape, Ronald Weasley," she replied disdainfully, "and secondly, I don't appreciate being treated like the villain here. Come on, Harry, back me up, please?"
"Hmm?" Harry said distractedly, turning back to face his friends. "Say, you guys, is Filch… smiling at me?"
Hermione turned to look and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't see him. Are you sure that was Filch?"
"Yeah, Harry! Maybe you have a new secret admirer!" Ron said through a mouthful of chocolate mousse.
"I know what I saw," Harry said, feeling somewhat ridiculous for overreacting.
Still, Filch smiling was one of the creepiest things he could think of... well... other than Snape smiling. Harry was certain if that ever happened, it'd be a clear sign of the impending apocalypse. He tried to shake off his growing unease while Hermione admonished Ron to finish scarfing down dessert so that they wouldn't be late to Defense.
While Harry was used to stares, eyes seemed to follow his every move as they walked to class. Whispery, indistinct voices filled his head until it ached.
The feeling of dread that had begun in the Great Hall began to twist in his gut more tightly, and Harry tightened his grip on his wand.
They'd only just slid into their seats when the doors to the classroom slammed shut and Snape floated, wraith-like, to the front of the classroom.
"How it must pain you all to be inside on this fine afternoon," he began, "I hope that the beautiful weather hasn't led you astray from finishing your essay on Will-o-wisps."
A couple of Slytherin students snickered, though Harry realized that Draco, who normally laughed the loudest at Snape's witty remarks, was unusually silent. As Harry continued to stare, he noticed dark rings under the boy's gray eyes and the unkempt look to his robes and hair. Draco's eyes darted over to Harry and widened with fear. Harry squinted to get a better look when a wide swath of dark robes materialized in front of him, blocking his view.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, I see that you've volunteered to turn in your assignment first," Snape drawled, holding out his hand.
Harry scowled and handed the assignment over with a sour look.
"There. Now, was that so hard?" Snape continued, his dark eyes glinting in the torchlight.
"No, sir," Harry said, looking at the floor. He had to swallow to keep the nasty retort from rising in his throat at being singled out in class yet again.
"All right, then, assignments out and on your desks!" Snape called out, raising his wand.
Hermione's eyes were wide and her face had gone a distinct shade of green.
"No!" she muttered as she searched frantically. "It has to be here. I double checked this morning! It-"
"Miss Granger? Do my eyes deceive me, or have you forgotten your assignment?" Snape said, his voice dangerously quiet as he stopped in front of her desk. "My, it appears that even you aren't immune to absorbing Potter's bad habits."
Harry wanted to say something, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve and shook her head quickly from side to side. He dropped his head and said nothing, trying to ignore the horrible smirk that was growing on the Defense professor's lips.
Snape flicked his wand, levitating the other essays and sending them over to his desk, leaving an empty spot at the top where Hermione's paper would have gone.
"Sir, I- I can explain!" Hermione said, choking back tears, "I must have left it up in my room. It's the only explanation! I know I checked-"
"I do not have the time or patience to make exceptions for student irresponsibility," Snape replied. "You will serve detention with me this evening. We shall see if writing lines for two hours reminds you that you, like your friend Potter here, are not special snowflakes who may flaunt my class's rules whenever the whim strikes you to do so."
"Yes sir," Hermione said in the tiniest voice that Harry had ever heard. He hated Snape more than ever.
He took hurried notes for the rest of class and tried to bite his tongue. By the time they were finally released for the day, Harry could barely contain himself.
Hermione lagged behind. She obviously wanted to convince Snape to reconsider accepting her paper, but Harry and Ron knew it was a futile gesture. Still, they waited, staring balefully at him while Hermione spoke in hushed tones. Her voice became more hysterical until she went silent altogether, staring down at her shoes as Snape replied to her in a low voice. When Hermione finally turned, she was smiling. Snape glanced up at the boys and then strode purposefully around the desk. He looked through the essays, pointedly ignoring them.
"I got a second chance!" Hermione said excitedly as she reached her friends, "If I write another twenty pages before my detention, I'll get half credit!"
"Half credit?" Ron scoffed, glancing back and hoping that Snape hadn't heard, "For all that extra work? What a bastard!"
"Shut up, Ronald!" Hermione replied angrily.
Harry looked back and froze, doing his best to suppress a shudder.
Hermione and Ron were too busy arguing to see, but Snape was watching them as they exited.
He was smiling.
"Hermione, you're not going to detention," Harry said firmly, "He's up to something. That smile... ugh..."
"Harry, I need to hand in my paper." Hermione replied, her nose buried in a book as she wrote furiously. "I know that you've had your differences, but there's absolutely no evidence that he's anything more than a strict teacher. It was my fault that I didn't have my essay. Or are you implying that Professor Snape went into my dorm, turned invisible, pulled my essay out of my bag and placed it under my bed?"
Harry had to admit that it sounded rather ridiculous.
"I still don't trust him," he said darkly. "I'll never forgive him for all he's done."
"And that's your prerogative," Hermione replied with a sniff, "but I want to take my detention and get as much credit as I can. You should relax. You've been on edge all day."
She looked over at Ron, who was snoring loudly on one of the Common Room couches.
"I hate to say it, Harry," she said, smirking, "but for once you might consider taking a page from Ron's playbook and call it an early night."
Harry said nothing. A plan was forming in his mind, and he knew what he had to do.
But first, he needed to grab his Invisibility Cloak.
Hermione was surprisingly hard to follow, even while invisible. She kept turning around, her keen ears picking up on the sound of Harry's sneakers. Harry had to keep a wide berth between them in order not to be found out. He wasn't sure what would be worse, Hermione's anger or Snape's smug glee at catching him out after curfew.
Finally, she reached Snape's office and knocked briskly.
"Ah yes, Miss Granger," Snape said, opening the door so that Hermione could enter. "You are very nearly late."
Harry ran to slip through the door. He nearly got his toe caught as it swung shut. He flattened himself against the wall, catching his breath, and looked around. The area where Snape usually had students sit for detentions was deserted, but he made out a sliver of emerald light shining from under a door behind the desk that he'd never noticed before. It had been left slightly open.
A part of him had an absolutely dreadful feeling about looking through the crack in the door, as though he was watching a late night horror movie where the main character walked slowly towards the monster's lair no matter how loudly Harry shouted at the television screen. But Hermione was in there, and Harry knew that no matter what lay beyond the door, she might very well need his help. This alone spurred him onward.
Putting his eye to the crack, he squinted to see inside. There were tall shelves filled to the top with assorted, shadowy items. He gasped. In the middle of the room, Snape was bending over Hermione. She was being held up by the professor's long, black-sleeved arms, her head thrown back, exposing her neck like a victim in an old vampire film. Harry was livid, and nearly ready to fling open the door with his wand raised when-
"Oh, yes," Hermione moaned, "please, Professor, more…"
Harry froze, his face going white with shock.
"Give me more."
The professor slowly lowered Hermione to the floor. Snape towered over her, his black hair falling upon her cheeks in dark tendrils, their eyes locked on one another. Hermione raised one hand to push the hair on one side of his face behind an ear. It was an almost tender gesture, which was all the more disturbing. Snape's arms went rigid, his palms straining against the floor and he opened his mouth as though screaming silently. A glowing fluid poured into Hermione's open mouth and she seized under him, her chest pressing upwards against Snape's robes. Her eyes widened and began to glow crimson as she choked and moaned. Harry bit his tongue to keep from retching.
Finally, Hermione stood, holding Snape's hand, their eyes glowing red as their lips pulled back in a ghastly smile.
"Prey," they hissed, speaking Parseltongue in Voldemort's voice. "He isssss here."
Harry willed his legs to move, to pull away, to run, but he was frozen in place as they advanced towards the door, Hermione's face warped by a feral serpentine grin as she shuffled dreamily alongside Snape.
It was only when Hermione's fingers brushed against the doorknob on the other side that Harry's adrenaline kicked into high gear. He stumbled backwards, his mind racing as they continued to advance. He fumbled with the door that led out to the hallway, trying to open it, but his palms were slick with sweat. By the time he had flung open the door, Hermione's hand had grasped the corner of his Invisibility Cloak, pulling it halfway off of him.
"COME!" she hissed in Parseltongue, "MINIONS! DESTROY POTTER!"
Snape and Hermione grinned until they both looked like warped carnival clowns. Harry ran, Parseltongue chanting following him until he hit a dead end.
They were chasing him, calling out for his blood in that infernal reptilian language that bored into his skull. Harry fell to his knees, his wand clattering uselessly on the floor. He couldn't bring himself to raise his wand against his friends. No. Without Hermione, without Ron…there was no point. Harry closed his eyes, tears of defeat staining his cheeks.
Suddenly, everything began to spin and he felt as though he were falling.
He let darkness swallow him.
"Harry… Harry!" Hermione's voice warped and Harry's eyes snapped open. A very concerned-looking, brown-eyed Hermione stared down at him.
"Nguhh?" Harry groaned, rolling onto the floor with a loud thud.
"Why are you sleeping in the Common Room?!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I... I don't…" Harry saw his finished essay on Will-o-wisps and he nearly cried out with relief.
"What's wrong?" Hermione looked concerned.
"It was a dream!" Harry laughed. "The stares, Snape smiling, you getting possessed..."
"Whatever are you talking about?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "We need to get to class! Professor McGonagall said there might be a pop quiz!"
"Oh, yeah," Harry said, prompting a confused look from his bushy-haired friend. "I dreamt about that. And your Defense essay rolled under your bed."
"Hmm?" Hermione said, rifling through her bag as though to prove Harry wrong, only to frown deeply. "Wait. That's not right."
"What is it?" Harry asked, feeling a sick sense of déjàvu.
"My essay... it's not here," she said slowly.
She ran to her room while Harry stuffed his essay in his bag. He grabbed his Charms textbook and leafed through it, going over the things that had been on the test.
Hermione nearly kissed Harry when she returned.
"It had somehow rolled under my bed! Oh Harry, I don't know what I'd do without you!"
At breakfast, the sense of déjà-vu didn't go away. He looked at Dumbledore's empty seat, his stomach churning with nausea.
The Charms test went much better this time, at least.
It was lunch time when reality diverged from his dream. Dumbledore strode in, looking stern.
"If you would indulge an old Headmaster," he said, holding up a silver talisman. "Please look at the birdie and smile!"
He pressed his wand against the object, filling the room with golden light. Harry heard the echoing, hissing screams of a thousand Voldemorts in his head.
"Thank you, all," Dumbledore said, pulling a lemon drop from his pocket. "And now, back to your regularly scheduled afternoon meal."
"What was that about?" Hermione asked.
"You didn't-?"
"Didn't what?" Hermione replied with a curious look.
"Never mind," Harry said, feeling the pressure in his heart subside.
"I can't believe that we have to go to Defense after this," Ron muttered darkly between liberal mouthfuls of sandwich, "I have half a mind to skip class and go play Exploding Snap with Creevey. How the hell did he get a free period, anyhow? He's younger than we are!"
"I... I'm going ahead," Harry said distractedly. He knew what they were going to say next. He left the Great Hall, trying to ignore Malfoy, who was staring with undisguised interest as he passed.
"Headmaster!" Harry greeted Dumbledore, who was shuffling down the hall towards the moving staircases.
"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore replied, a kindly smile on his lips.
"I was wondering... did you… ?" Harry's eyes caught sight of the Time Turner disappearing into Dumbledore's robes.
"Did I?" Dumbledore asked, his expression innocent.
Harry racked his brain for something he could say that wouldn't make him sound absolutely insane if he was wrong.
"Um... I just wanted to say... thank you, Headmaster. As long as you're here, I always feel safe."
"A very kind sentiment, Harry." Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling merrily. "These are the best days of your life, after all."
"I'd best be getting to Defense," Harry said, ruffling his hair with one hand.
"Take care, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, an unreadable emotion flickering behind his eyes, "Oh, and Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Do let me know if you encounter anyone who is smiling when they ought not to be doing so. I should like to discuss an important matter with them."
"Of course, sir!" Harry replied uneasily.
For deep down, he knew it had not been a nightmare at all.
