"The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen-the worst omen-of death!" -Sybill Trelawney, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Heanford Wilson, professor of Divination at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry took the front of the Great Hall following the Halloween feast. Giddy with excitement, he was highly anticipating the night's activities.
In honor of the festivities, he cleared his throat and began his tale, captivating the attention of only a scarce number of students. "The origins of the Grim are highly debated. The most popular theory surrounds matters most frightful. The same can be said for the tale we will hear tonight before we send you forth to find your schoolmate.
"It was on All Hallow's Eve that a child went missing from a village not far from the seashore. A search was called to find the child, fearing he would traverse the dense woodlands perched haphazardly atop the steep cliffs where it would be possible to fall into the frigid waters below.
"With the night so dreary with thick curtains of fog, the villagers despaired-there was no way to find the boy without risking their own lives. However, the boy's mutt (a large, black dog whose paws were larger than a grown man's hands) caught the child's scent in the murky midnight hours.
"The mutt raced through the tangled forest, desperate to find his master before it was too late.
"It was, however, too late, as the dog soon found out. The most loyal of all creatures, the black dog followed the boy's scent over the treacherous cliffs to remain forever at his side.
"The dog mourned its master, even in his own death. He wished to give warning to people so that they may be wary of their own demise, perhaps even able to put a stopper on their misfortunate and untimely deaths.
"From that moment forward, the dog returned to witches and wizards and Muggles alike to bear warning. His spectral presence soon became known as the Grim, an omen of death. Pray we heed his warning, should he ever come to us.
"And so, tonight we honor his return and his warnings by hosting a manhunt. You all have until the clock reaches 10 to find the missing. Miss Macdonald has volunteered her time to act as the lost child-look fast and far-spread! You've only a few hours left!"
You surmised that the Hogwarts staff simply meant to create a sense of inter-house unity before being thrust into the unwelcoming bosom of the war brewing beyond the safety of Hogwarts' walls. On paper, the theory seemed sound. A manhunt would be held, where Houses would have to work together and form a united front to track down a single student within the castle.
What the staff was not taking into account, however, was that some participants would be given the perfect opportunity to mess with the person who was meant to be found. Some students would be taking said opportunity to enact their revenge upon the person who had nearly cost them expulsion last year (though, from your perspective, you didn't see how Mulciber could possibly blame you for nearly being expelled).
When Dumbledore had first approached you to ask if you would consider being the hunted, you hastily agreed. What fun! A little game of cat and mouse that could bring some unity into an otherwise disjointed student body. You were quite nimble, so you expected that avoiding students for a while in such a large castle would be fun, sneaking around so as not to be found.
And it was. At first.
Until you found yourself cornered by Nott, Avery, and (worst of all) Mulciber in an abandoned corridor.
You'd sworn to yourself that this wouldn't happen again, that you'd be prepared just in case you were put in this predicament again. Although you'd practiced your defensive skills so that you may never be so humiliated again, Mulciber's wicked sneer sent your mind into a panicked flurry of flashbacks-being strung up by your ankles, your knickers on display for all to see, and the horrific snickering that followed.
A hot flush crept up your neck and to your cheeks as you tightened your already steel grip on your wand. Not again. You were ready to defend yourself or die trying. You'd honestly thought he would have been smart enough to leave you alone after the backlash he'd received from your last encounter. However, you weren't sure how he'd managed to weasel his way out of expulsion, either.
With a curse hot on your tongue, unfathomed by being outnumbered three-to-one, you prepared your spell, only to be abruptly interrupted.
A massive, scruffy-looking dog leaped before you, a loud snarl ripping through the night, echoing down the corridor.
Startled, you stumbled backward, thankful you weren't at the receiving end of the dog's fury.
Three identical looks of horror crossed the boys' faces as they scrambled away from the heaving beast.
"The Grim!" Nott gasped, nearly falling over himself in the process of backing away.
You took the opportunity to slip down the next corridor, your harried heartbeat drowning out your hasty footsteps. Too afraid to glance over your shoulder, almost certain that if you did, the beast would be directly behind you, you darted into the nearest broom cupboard, desperately needed to calm down so that your constricting throat wouldn't suffocate you in your escape.
Clinging to the shelf for support, you attempted to steady your breathing, praying that the Grim wasn't after you. You'd realized you'd prepared mentally to fight Mulciber but it's not as if you actually had a death wish.
The soft padding of footsteps that approached sent shivers down your spine and you swallowed harshly, grimacing at how dry your throat had become. Your stomach churned, sinking disparagingly as those steps stopped just beyond the door.
You nodded in resignation, reminding yourself that the Grim wasn't there to harm you but to warn you.
The door handle slowly turned.
You held your breath.
It creaked open, temporarily blinding you with the light flooding in from the corridor.
One blink.
Two.
Three.
Finally, the silhouette in the doorway became recognizable.
It was Sirius Black.
All shaggy hair and big eyes and square jaw.
You temporarily forgot your consternation. Your fear of your own death floated away as soon as that laid-back, nausea-inducing smirk quirked his lips upward.
"Found you, Macdonald," he said, smooth voice soothing your flared nerves and easy charm lulling you into a momentary state of security.
You opened your mouth, confused. "You-eh, what then?" Your hand slipped from the shelf and your balance teetered. "Oh, right, so you have."
He held his hand out to you to assist you over the stack of old newspapers that had spilled across the cobbled floor and you took it hesitantly, wary of the swarm of bees that'd come alive in your guts, sending your insides into a buzzing excitement.
As you stepped into the hall-still holding Black's hand-you surveyed the corridor, searching to-and-fro for any signs of the ominous Grim.
"Alright?"
His question recaptured your attention. Quickly realizing your proximity, you blushed, tension returning to your shoulders.
"Yes," you said, quickly, biting down on your bottom lip to keep from grinning. "You haven't, erm, seen a dog around here, have you?"
"A dog?"
"A rather large, black dog-"
"I can't say that I have." He chuckled and your blush deepened, bees threatening to burst from your belly in an euphoric onslaught. Squeezing your hand, those grey eyes boring holes into your very being, he asked, "So, what do I win?"
Your mind was too busy keeping your salivary glands in check to process his question. "Win? I'm not sure that there's a prize..." You wanted to preach about unity and how this was meant to bring the student body together, but your thoughts were forgotten soon after they were formed. Sirius Black was a dangerous kind of intoxication.
You'd fancied him since Third Year. It was difficult not to fancy him, or so the popular consensus was. Spending the better part of three years denying your attraction to him had gotten you nowhere, though watching some of the others fawn uselessly over him gave you some reassurance.
He smiled playfully, tossing his head to the side. "Well, escorting a lovely lady back to the Great Hall is enough of a prize, I suppose." He released your hand, to your brief dismay, and crooked his elbow, holding his arm out for you.
Grinning stupidly as you knew you would, you slipped your arm in his and the two of you began making your way back. Thoughts of the Grim weighed on the back of your mind and you hoped that it had come for one of the other boys instead of you, immediately fighting your conscience about whether to feel bad about that thought or not.
You stopped walking, worrying your lip while lost in your musings. If you were going to die, then you were going to die without regrets. Swallowing your fears, you glanced up at Black, who quirked his eyebrows in question. You rose to your toes, turning toward him and leaning in, your heart and stomach and brain short-wiring all at once.
A spark of realization widened his eyes fractionally and he ducked his head down.
And your nose collided with that beautiful jaw of his.
With a sickening crack, pain distracted you from your initial conquest, and you stepped away, clutching your face. Blood pooled in your palms and you groaned in annoyance. Of course you'd wind up with a bloody nose while trying to kiss someone! He probably thought you were a complete imbecile.
Two days had passed since 'the incident'. Black had fixed your nose and helped clean up the blood, apologizing profusely, but you were far too embarrassed to even continue talking about it. The two of you returned back to the Hall in awkward silence in an anticlimactic finish to the Halloween celebrations.
You'd been avoiding him ever since.
That is why you were most currently scurrying along down an empty fourth-floor corridor in a long detoured route to Muggle Studies so that you could continue to avoid Sirius Black. Chagrin stung. The Grim might as well have been for you because you died a little inside that night.
As you rounded the corner, you nearly ran into another student.
In your hurry, you nearly didn't realize who you'd nearly run into. Your wonderful luck continued when you realized that the student, leaning so nonchalantly against the wall and watching you expectantly, was Sirius goddamn Black.
"Found you, Macdonald," he said in the same infuriating tone he'd used the night before.
Feeling the blush returning to your cheeks, you shot him your best glare. "What do you want, Black?" You continued down the hall, blinking away the mortified tears that began to prick your eyes.
He followed you, to your utter dismay. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry!"
Your gate faltered as you slowed to a stop, still not trusting yourself enough to look at him without breaking down.
"It was an accident! You have to know that it was an accident, Mary!"
Your eyebrows knitted together as you finally cast your eyes toward him. "What are you talking about? Of course I know it was an accident."
"Then why are you mad at me?"
"I'm not mad at you," you muttered. "You don't think I'm a spaz?"
He shook his head slowly, his face more serious than you'd remembered seeing it in a long time. "I want to kiss you, Mary Macdonald. Without breaking your nose, preferably."
Bringing your books close to your chest, you cagily regarded him-trying to decipher if he was trying to further mortify you. "Why?"
"Why?" he parroted, pushing himself away from the craggy wall. He ran a hand through that his tousled locks, sighing. "You know, you can be a little daft for someone so bright."
You scoffed indignantly, unsure whether to be flattered that he'd called you bright or insulted that he'd insinuated that you were also foolish.
Fingers found their way beneath your chin, tilting your head up. His cheeky grin softened as he leaned in, one arm slipping its way around your waist, causing your breath to snag in your throat.
Your eyes closed only part-way as you leaned forward, careful to avoid collision, until, finally, your lips met his.
All the bees from your stomach cascaded through your body, tingling in your fingers and buzzing through your hearts, heartbeat skyrocketing and thudding so loudly you were certain that it was reverberating down the hall for the entire school to hear.
One of your hands drifted up the front of his chest, smoothing over the velvety material of his robes to his shoulder, allowing you more leverage to move in closer where you could finally run your fingers through that long hair of his that you could only have ever imagined what it felt like.
Soft and feathery, light and fluffy-just as you'd daydreamed.
Unable to help yourself, you grinned into the kiss, trying to stop the laughter from rising out of your belly.
Far too quickly for your liking, he pulled away, leaving you dizzyingly out of breath and entirely uncertain as to what to do next.
"Can I walk you to class?" he asked, offering his elbow as he'd done on Halloween night.
You nodded, pressing your lips together to try to keep your face straight, which was failing miserably. "You'd better. Do you know how late I am, now?"
"I will most definitely make it up to you, Macdonald."
You took his arm, knowing you wouldn't be able to stop smirking for weeks and focused on not skipping your way to class.