(A.N.) First of all, I have to apologise for the amount of spelling mistakes in the previous chapter. I made some quick changes before posting and didn't read through thoroughly enough. If I've missed any in this chapter, please point them out.
Anyway, here's Chapter 4:
The second floor corridor was dark. Harry could barely make out the hand in front of his face, and the 'Lumos' spell wasn't working. The words 'Beware The Weeping Angels' shone with a bright red glimmer against the broken bricks, the only source of light to be seen.
Harry walked for what felt like an age, and then he found himself in a long hallway lined with many doors, each of which looked exactly like the entrance to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
Slowly, he moved forward to get a closer look. The door on his left was marked with a plaque, which was engraved with the word 'Voldemort'. He looked to the door on his right and saw it also had a plaque, this one reading 'Dementor'. The next door down had a plaque too, which said 'Sirius Black', and the one opposite that read 'Death'. The next door, however, was missing its plaque. It looked like it had been ripped away. And what's more, this door was ajar.
Harry gave it a long look. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped towards it.
"Don't go in," said a voice from the end of the hall, making Harry jump.
He turned, and saw that his eight year old self was standing a few feet away, eyes wide and face pale.
"Why?" Harry asked.
Eight year old Harry just bit his lip and shook his head.
"Don't go in," he said again.
In the distance, there was a noise. A very old, very unnatural noise. A distorted grinding noise that tried to reach them, but kept getting pushed back. The younger Harry seemed frightened by the noise, and ran off the down the hall.
Harry watched him go, then turned back to the door. He could hear rain on the other side, and there was a foul smell coming through it. The grinding noise was getting louder, but Harry didn't care. He was going inside.
He reached out for the handle, but never made it that far. The grinding noise rose and rose, then became so loud that Harry had to clamp his hands against his ears and then…
…he woke up. He shot upwards in his four poster, still in his clothes from the previous day, and looked quickly over to Ron's bed. It was empty, like each of the other boy's beds.
Harry sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair. Ron had been asleep when Harry had returned from his detention, and Harry had spent so long wondering if he should wake him up and tell him about the voice on the radio, that he must've fallen asleep himself from sheer exhaustion.
He quickly changed into his uniform and went down to the common room, expecting to find Ron and Hermione, but instead finding it deserted. For the first time, Harry wondered how long he'd been asleep. He looked at the grandfather clock in the corner, surprised to see it showing 12:30pm.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked Ron and Hermione, when he found them in the Great Hall eating lunch.
"Tried to," Ron said, mouth full of food. "You wouldn't budge. Anyway, the day you had yesterday, we decided to just leave you. We've been telling teachers you're chucking your guts out."
Harry looked to Hermione, who's tight-lipped expression told him this was true, though she didn't entirely approve of it.
"Right," said Harry. "Thanks, then, I suppose. But listen, I need to tell you something."
"Can you tell us on the way to Defence against the Dark Arts?" asked Hermione, noticing the time. "We don't want to be late for our first lesson.
Unfortunately, Harry didn't get the chance to explain anything. The halls were crowded again today; the novelty of the mysterious message under the wall having wore off. And since he didn't want anyone to overhear his tale of a radio speaking to him, he told Ron and Hermione he would tell them later, and continued on the way to Professor Lupin's classroom.
The room was very talkative as they waited for their new professor to arrive, but Harry wasn't joining in. He barely even noticed when Professor Lupin entered, and followed on autopilot when they were led to the staff room. His mind was focused on more pressing matters.
For one glorious half hour last evening, he'd allowed himself to believe he was safe, that the message on the wall meant nothing. But the voice on the radio had changed all that, and now he didn't know what to think. As Hermione and Ron had pointed out, the idea that a statue he hadn't seen for five years was trying to kill him was absurd, but how could the eerie warning coming for a wireless be explained? Could someone have heard him confessing his fears to Ron and Hermione, and decided to play a cruel prank on him? Or was he just properly losing his mind?
It wasn't until he was being shuffled into a line of other students that Harry broke out of his thoughts and finally paid attention to what was happening around him. There was a severed hand crawling around the room, and everyone was laughing.
"Wait," he said to Hermione behind him. "What are we doing, again?"
Hermione gave him a scolding look for not listening properly. "We're facing a Boggart," she said.
"…what's a Boggart?"
Ron stepped forward, there was a 'crack!', and then a giant spider was in front of them. Ron looked briefly frozen, but gradually raised his wand, cried "Riddikulus!", and the spider's legs disappeared. It's hairy round body fell to the floor and rolled away from Ron, coming to a stop at Harry's feet.
"Here!" said Professor Lupin, trying to rush forward in front of Harry.
But too late.
There was a crack, and the spider disappeared. In its place, with its hands open and outstretched, and with its cold grey eyes staring right into Harry's, was a Weeping Angel.
The room went silent. No one laughed, or giggled that Harry Potter was frightened of a statue. Because there was something about the stone figure in front of them that wasn't funny in the slightest. Even Professor Lupin simply gazed at it for a few seconds, but soon came to his senses.
"Right," he said, trying to lighten the mood again. "Wand up, Harry. Come on, 'Riddikulus'."
Harry didn't move. He hadn't moved since the moment the Angel had appeared. His breath was caught in his throat, his whole body had gone numb, and he could do nothing more but stare at the Angel in shock.
"Harry?" said Professor Lupin. When he received no response, and the students began to whisper, he moved forward and steered Harry away. "Alright, Harry, why don't you just come over here with me, okay? Hermione, step forward, have at it!"
The students turned their attention back to the fun, cheering on Hermione as she stepped towards the statue, while Lupin led a barely moving Harry to the back of the class.
"Harry?" he said with deeply worried eyes. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"Professor Lupin…" came Hermione's voice.
"Just a second," said Lupin kindly, without turning around. He lowered his voice again, and tried to meet Harry's gaze, but it seemed to be locked on the spot behind Lupin, where the Boggart-statue was standing. "Harry, its okay, its not real. Its just a Boggart."
"Professor Lupin…" said Hermione again, and Lupin noticed her anxious tone.
He turned around, assuming Hermione had also been frightened by whatever form the Boggart had chosen for her. Only the Boggart hadn't changed form. It was still a stone statue.
Lupin frowned. He turned to another student. "Seamus," he said, curious. "Step forward for me, would you?"
Hermione moved aside and Seamus stepped up to the Boggart. There was no crack, no change, the Boggart remained a stone angel. The students swapped worried glances, and Lupin felt the mood turning tense.
"Not to worry, everyone," he said, coming to stand in front of the Boggart himself. It didn't, as he expected, snap into the shape of a full moon. "We must've overdone it. The Boggart is too confused to carry on. Neville, finish it off for us!
Neville raised his wand towards the statue, and cried, "Riddikulus!"
Nothing happened.
Neville, along with everyone else, looked to Professor Lupin. Lupin frowned again, and raised his own wand.
"Riddikulus." he said, to no effect. "Riddikulus!" he said, clearer and firmer, but still without result. The Angel didn't seem to be going anywhere.
The strained silence was broken by a jet of red light flying at the Angel from the back of the class.
"Stupefy!" Harry yelled.
The student threw their arms over their heads and ducked out of the way, some of them screamed.
"Harry!" Lupin shouted in astonishment. "What are y -"
But Harry wasn't finished.
"Stupefy!" he shouted again, sending another jet of light bouncing off the statue. "Confringo! Reducto!"
"Harry, for God's sake!" Ron shouted over the chaos.
But Harry continued to light up the staffroom, firing curse after curse at the Angel, until Professor Lupin turned his wand on him.
"Expelliarmus!"
Harry's wand shot out of his hand and across the room, where it was caught by Ron. Suddenly, Harry found his fellow Gryffindors staring at him in shock. Professor Lupin looked like he was torn between being angry or concerned. He turned to Hermione and Ron.
"Take him to the Hospital Wing, now."
Ron and Hermione did as they were told, hurrying forward and grabbing Harry by each arm.
"Let go of me, let me go!" Harry was saying as they dragged him out into the hall.
"Harry," said Hermione pleadingly. "Calm down."
"I will not calm down!" Harry fumed, fighting out of their grasp and looking at them.
"Don't you realise what that was?" he shouted. "That was the Angel! The Angel that tried to kill me when I was eight is standing in the middle of the staff room!"
"No," Hermione shook her head. "Harry, it's a Boggart. You weren't listening to Professor Lupin. A Boggart takes the form of whatever it thinks will scare you the most. Its not real, its just an imitation."
"It was spider for me," said Ron. "You saw it. And before it changed into that it was a banshee, a severed hand, a bloody eyeball…"
"Except it didn't change back!" said Harry. "Its still an Angel, and what if it's stuck like that?"
"Okay," said Ron reluctantly. "Its strange, I'll give you that. But you can't just start firing curses at it in the middle of a Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson!"
"Oh, yes I can!" said Harry, beginning to walk back towards the staff room, but stopping when he found his pockets empty. "My wand? Where did my wand land, did you see?"
Hermione bit her lip and looked at Ron. Harry did the same.
"It's here," said Ron apprehensively. "I have it."
"Oh," Harry replied, and he walked back to Ron, holding out his hand. Ron looked at it, then back at Harry, and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, mate," he said sadly. "I can't. Not until you calm down a bit."
Harry looked at him in disbelief. "Excuse me?"
"Harry," said Hermione quietly. "There was a class full of Gryffindors in that room, as well as an Angel. What if you'd missed?"
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Glaring at them with utmost betrayal, he stormed off down the corridor.
Ron called after him. "We're supposed to take you to -"
"I think I can find the Hospital Wing on my own," said Harry, and left Ron and Hermione standing in the middle of the empty hallway.
"I've been warning you about Potter for three years now," said Snape, matter-of-factly. "The boy has a nasty temper, exactly like his father."
Next to him, Professor Lupin rolled his eyes irritably. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, chose to ignore the comment, sitting behind his desk with his fingertips pressed together thoughtfully
"I think, Severus," said Lupin. "You're rather forgetting the special circumstances. While casting curses in a room full of students cannot be condoned, remember that Harry had just come face to face with a perfect recreation of his greatest fear."
Snape gave Lupin a thin, spiteful smile. "Before I forget, Remus, might I also commend you on your decision to place Harry Potter, the boy who has had three separate attempts on his life by the Dark Lord himself, in front of a Boggart."
"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore sternly.
"No," said Lupin. "He's quite right there, Albus. It was very foolish of me. The thought honestly didn't occur to me until Harry stepped forward, but those third years could easily have found themselves staring at Voldemort himself this afternoon. I tried to stop it, but I wasn't quick enough."
"This is not the issue," said Dumbledore, disregarding Lupin's words as he had done Snape's. "The issue is what the Boggart did turn into. I had almost put yesterday's discovery down as another of Hogwarts many harmless mysteries. But a message warning of Angels the day before a statue of one appears inside the castle cannot be coincidence."
"I feel I should also mention," said Lupin gravely, "The spells Harry fired at that statue should have reduced it to rubble. But there's not a scratch on it."
Dumbledore sat in silence, flexing his fingers and reflecting on everything he'd just been told. Finally, he looked back to them.
"I shall have to see it for myself," he said. "Is it still in the staffroom?"
Lupin nodded. "I thought it best to leave it exactly where it stood."
"Then I shall meet the both of you down there shortly, just as soon as I see to Harry."
Snape and Lupin left the Headmaster's office and made their way to the staffroom in silence. It was not until they were outside the door that Snape chose to voice his thoughts.
"Boggarts are very basic subjects for a third-year class, don't you think? I would have started the new term with something a tad more complicated." He smiled with malice. "Werewolves, perhaps?"
Lupin simply returned his smile. "Then we are lucky that you are not, nor have you ever been, Defence Against The Dark Arts professor."
Snape's smirk slipped off his face, and Lupin tried not to chuckle as he opened the staffroom door. He had barely taken a step into the room before he stopped in his tracks.
"What?" said Snape lazily. "Have you misplaced your statue, Lupin?"
"It was there," said Lupin, staring dumbfounded at the spot where the Boggart had first turned into the Angel, the very same spot he'd left it in. "It was right there and…"
He looked around the room quickly, and soon found what he was looking for. Snape did too.
"Is that it?" he said, starting to walk forwards. Lupin stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"Don't," he said quietly.
"Why?"
"Because its moved."
The statue, previously in the centre of the room, was now in the far corner. It was facing a window, as if gazing out across the Hogwarts grounds.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Snape spat.
"Severus, I tell you, it's moved!" Lupin took a few cautious steps towards the statue, looking back and forth between the centre and the corner of the room, as if mapping the distance it had travelled.
"Someone must have moved it, then," said Snape. "Filch, or one of the house-elves."
Lupin shook his head as he came to stand next to the statue. "Its hands have moved."
When it had first formed in front of Harry, the Angels hands had been open and outstretched. But now, one hand was touching the pane of glass it stood in front of, and the other was resting against its cheek.
"The hands are in completely different places," Lupin said, more aloud and in complete disbelief than to Snape.
Snape approached the Angel himself.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Lupin nodded. "Positive."
Snape gave the statue another appraising glance. Then he produced his wand from inside his robes, and tapped it lightly against the Angel's shoulder
"Reveal your secrets," he spoke.
Nothing happened. The Angel continued to be perfectly still.
"This Boggart is far more than it seems," said Snape. "It would appear to have abilities it does not want us to see."
"We need to clear this floor immediately," said Lupin, and for once, Snape agreed with him.
"Stay here," he said to Lupin, and started walking towards the door.
"Severus," said Lupin, turning around to Snape's retreating form, and away from the Angel. "Make sure you -"
The was a rush of wind, and the end of Lupin's sentence never came. Snape, almost at the door, turned back to him.
"Make sure I what?" he asked.
But Lupin had vanished. And once again, the Angel was in a completely different position. Somehow, the statue had turned away from the window, its head was thrown off to the side, and it covered its face with the back of its hands, as if in deep despair.
Snape gave it a guarded look. It was an awful lot of movement for a piece of stone in an awfully short amount of time.
"…Lupin?" he called, unsurprised when he didn't receive a reply.
Nevertheless, he gave the staffroom a quick once-over, looking for any sign of his colleague. When he turned back to the statue, it wasn't covering its face anymore. It had turned towards him, and now two narrowed stone eyebrows were bridgingdown on a pair of gray, lifeless eyes, and they were glaring right at Severus Snape.
Snape was momentarily taken aback, but then he produced his wand again, and started walking towards the statue, unafraid.
The door behind him slammed shut with such a great bang that Snape's head turned towards it on instinct. He felt a hand clutch at the hair on the back of his head, and then he was pulled out of Hogwarts and time itself.
It had been hours since Harry had entered the Hospital Wing in a rotten mood, and been promptly told by Madam Pompfrey that he was to sit himself down and stay there until told otherwise, by orders of Professor Dumbledore himself.
So he did. He sat himself down, head full of worry and anger, and tried to figure out what he was going to do. But then something odd began to play out in front of him.
It started after he'd been in the Hospital Wing for no more than an hour, Professor McGonagall had appeared and asked Madam Pompfrey if she had seen any sign of Professor Lupin or Professor Snape. Madam Pompfrey had not, and McGonagall left. Not long after, she was back again, asking the same question, and receiving the same answer. When she returned a third time, Harry knew something was wrong.
Professor McGonagall had taken Madam Pompfrey into her office so they could speak without being overheard by Harry, and when they emerged ten minutes later, both seemed edgy, and trying extra hard not to appear so. For the rest of his stay there, teachers continued to come in and have private chats, and Harry couldn't help feeling they were updating the Matron on the situation that was unfolding.
This did nothing to calm Harry's fears. As if the thought of an Angel being in the same building as him wasn't enough, his mind was now overrun with thoughts of the havoc it could be causing inside the castle. Had it attacked Lupin and Snape? Had it attacked any students? What if it had gotten to Ron and Hermione? What if the Angel had found them, and their argument in the corridor was the last words he'd ever speak to either of them?
On that thought, he refused to sit idly by any longer. He jumped to his feet and headed for the door, when Professor McGonagall suddenly entered through it.
"Potter," she said. "You will come with me, now."
"Where?" asked Harry.
"Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak to you at once."
Hogwarts, he thought as he was led through the halls by Professor McGonagall, felt as though it was on high alert. The corridors were full of teachers. Some were opening doors, having a quick look inside, then closing them again; Some were advising (without ordering) students to return to their common rooms; and some of them simply stood around the castle, as if on guard. He looked to Professor McGonagall, and couldn't shake the feeling she wasn't just leading him to Dumbledore's office, but escorting him also.
The portraits of past Hogwarts Headmasters were watching Harry keenly as he entered the room, and they weren't the only ones. From behind his desk, Professor Dumbledore looked up at Harry, and motioned to the chair in front of him.
"Take a seat, please, Harry," he said.
Harry did as he was told. There was an uneasy silence in the room; the eclectic collection of instruments strewn about the office were uncharacteristically quiet. As he looked at Harry, even Dumbledore's usually twinkling eyes seemed troubled through his half-moon spectacles.
"Earlier this afternoon," he said, "I sent Professor Lupin and Professor Snape to the staffroom, where the Boggart which seemed stuck in the form it intended to frighten you with, was being kept. Professor Lupin and Professor Snape are now missing, as is the Boggart."
Harry's stomach twisted. Professor Dumbledore paused, watching his reaction, then went on.
"A year ago," he said. "You were sat in that exact same chair, as I was sat in this one, and I asked you; with the safety of my staff and students threatened; if there was anything you wanted to tell me. I think subsequent events have proved that you lied to me on that day, Harry."
Harry felt a stab of guilt at the memory, and Dumbledore again let his words hang in the air for a moment. Then, he leaned forward in his chair, his blue eyes gazing into Harry's.
"Today, I am going to ask you that same question again, and I hope that you will not make the same mistake twice. Harry, is there anything you would like to tell me?"
This time, Harry didn't hesitate. He didn't worry about being thought a fool, or a nutcase. If the Angel was back, and people were going missing, Hogwarts would need all the help it could get.
"Yes, sir," said Harry, his voice cracking as he did. "The Angel, I mean the Boggart, I mean what the Boggart changed into…" He took a deep breath, and steadied himself. Dumbledore waited patiently. "When I was little, I was out one day with my Aunt, and there was this statue. It attacked me, sir, tried to kill me. It was like nothing I've ever seen in my entire life, magic or otherwise. It was like it could only move when I wasn't looking at it, and it was so fast that if I blinked, even if I just blinked… Sir, I barely escaped alive, and when I saw that message on the wall yesterday - "
"The event came flooding back," Dumbledore finished. "Meaning the Boggart didn't have to search very long to find a form suitable enough to scare you."
"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. "I'm so sorry, sir, I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid you'd - "
Dumbledore held up a hand, stopping Harry instantly. "Do not apologise Harry, I understand completely. What matters is you are telling me now."
"If it's back, sir, if the Angel is lose in Hogwarts - "
"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted again, "I do not know what has happened to Professor Lupin and Professor Snape, nor do I know why the Boggart froze in the image of your greatest fear. But what I do know is that Hogwarts is protected by many powerful enchantments. Nothing can enter these walls unless it is allowed to do so. Whatever it may look like, the Boggart is still a Boggart, this I am sure of. And I promise you I will take care of this."
Harry thought about arguing, thought about asking him to shut the whole school down until they found it, but instead he merely nodded half-heartedly.
"Now," said Dumbledore. "Can I trust you to return to Gryffindor Tower, and remain there until this situation is resolved?"
Harry forced a smile onto his face.
"Yes, sir," he lied.
"He's right, you know," said Ron.
Hermione looked up from her work at him, sitting in the armchair across from her and twiddling Harry's wand in his hand restlessly.
"Harry," Ron clarified. "About the Angel. What are the chances of a message appearing on a wall about it, the day before a Boggart turns into one?"
Hermione nodded sadly. "I know. But it still doesn't mean he can cast stunning spells in the middle of a packed class." Ron looked away, though she could see the guilt nagging at his features. "We did the right thing, Ron" she said softly.
Ron turned his eyes back to the unfamiliar wand between his fingers. He looked over to Hermione, and huffed when he saw what was sitting on her lap.
"I thought you said that was nothing?"
Hermione turned her own attention back to the tattered book, whose secrets she was still trying to uncover. "What I can read of it is," she replied.
"Meaning?" asked Ron, grateful for the change of subject.
"This book is old," said Hermione. "Very, very old. Some of the words have faded, and I'm trying to bring them back. Maybe then I can work out what this has all been about."
She picked up her wand and brought it to the torn and discoloured pages, tapping it against the bits where words had faded away after centuries spent collecting dust in the Hogwarts library. She muttered complicated spells beyond her years, and gradually some of the letters started to reappear.
Ron sighed as he watched her.
"Haven't we had enough conspiracy theories for one week? Is it really not possible that maybe the reasons that book was left under your name are perfectly innocent and mundane?"
"Yes," said Hermione lightly. "Very possible indeed. Doesn't change the fact that I'd still like to know them." Ron rolled his eyes and gave up. "Anyway," she went on. "From what I've recovered so far, it's not looking likely I'm going to find out what those reasons were any time soon. Most of this stuff is just creepy and nonsensical."
"How d'you mean?"
"Well, listen to this," she said, holding the book up to her face and reading aloud from a passage she had just salvaged. "What if we had ideas that could think for themselves? What if one day our dreams no longer needed us? When these things occur and are held to be true, the time will be upon us. The time of…"
"…the time of what?" asked Ron, slightly spooked.
"Don't know," said Hermione with a sigh. "That last bit it is all worn away. Hang on." She put the book back in her lap and brought her wand to it again. "It's weird," she said as she worked. "There are words, like this one, throughout the whole book that seem somehow more resistant to the 'Reparo' spell than others; almost as though they're trying to remain hidden."
Ron gave the book a wary once-over.
"Be careful, Hermione," he said. "Remember what happened to Ginny last year. If that thing's thinking for itself, make sure it doesn't try and think for you as well."
Hermione had stopped listening, concentrating instead on making sure she was performing the spell correctly. She furrowed her brow and focused her mind, willing with all her might until slowly the faded ink returned, fresh as the day it was printed.
Hermione had to read it several times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
"…Angels," she said.
Ron looked at her in alarm. "What?"
"Angels. That's the missing word. The time will be upon us. The time of Angels."
"But…" Ron stuttered, sitting up in his chair. "That's impossible. That can't really be about…"
"Angels," said Hermione again. She was rifling backwards through the book, where all the aged-away words had returned, and they all said the same thing. "Angels, Angels, Angels. Ron, this whole book, it's all about the Angel!" Before Ron could even reply, she remembered something else. "Hang on. What was that bit yesterday, the bit about images that I couldn't read properly?"
She started searching through the book again, with Ron watching on. When she found it, her heart cringed.
"What?" asked Ron worriedly "Hermione, what is it?"
"Oh, Ron," she said, without taking her eyes from the book. "We're all in terrible danger."
Harry couldn't help it. He disobeyed Dumbledore's orders, and instead of going straight back to the common room, he headed for the second floor corridor. He didn't know what he expected to accomplish, or what he expected to find. He only knew that he had to see it again.
The second floor was deserted when he reached it. It was starting to turn dark, meaning the teachers now had an excuse to send the students back to the safety of their common rooms. Harry walked silently along the corridor until he found it.
The message on the wall was shining, despite the fact that there was no source of light to be giving it that reflective glow. As he studied them, Harry couldn't fight the feeling that there was something mischievous about the words, as though they were staring right back at him, delighting in the questions upon questions they had brought about.
"Beware the Weeping Angels, love from the Doctor," Harry read aloud, staring at the author's name, twinkling in the darkness. "Doctor who?" he asked.
The second the words left his mouth, Harry felt a light breeze on the back of his neck. He whirled around, but there was no one there. He could still feel it, though, air blowing against his cheeks like it was being gently pushed out of the way to make room for something else. Soon, this breeze from nowhere was joined by a noise from nowhere, and one Harry had heard before. It was the strange, unexplainable grinding noise.
Harry looked all around, in search of whatever was causing it, but it seemed to be coming from every direction at once. Hard to hear at first, but getting steadily louder. And as it did so, Harry felt the stone floor beneath his feet start to rumble again.
The grinding noise climbed higher and higher, wheezing and groaning, gasping and spluttering, refusing to be held back, forcing through whatever barrier that tried to restrain it. Eventually, the noise didn't seem so scattered anymore. Harry was able to pinpoint it as coming from directly in front of the message.
He gazed at the spot with wide eyes. The noise became deafening, the breeze turned into wind, forcing him backwards. The castle started to shake, more pieces of brick fell from the damaged wall. Bright sparks appeared out of nowhere, lighting up the hallway as they fizzed in and out of life. But strangest of all, was that just for the tiniest of seconds, Harry could swear he could see the ghost of a large blue object standing in front of him.
Before he could even determine what he was seeing, he was thrown sideways by a great tremor that struck the entire castle. The grinding noise stopped instantly, like it had ran face first into a brick wall, and the hallway was silent again.
Harry steadied himself. He could hear commotion in the distance, as people reacted to the second earthquake in as many days. Not wanting to be found here, nor wanting to stick around to see what other dangerous phenomena took place, he ran. He ran as fast as he could out of the corridor, and was just about at the Gryffindor common room when he almost collided with Ron and Hermione.
"Woah!" said Ron, stopping Harry with two hands on his shoulders.
"What are you two doing here?" Harry asked in shock.
"Looking for you," said Hermione. "Harry, it's the book!"
"The what?"
"The book," Ron repeated. "The thousand year old library book left for Hermione."
"What about it?" Harry asked, completely lost.
"It's about the Angels," said Hermione. "The whole thing. It's a book about the Weeping Angels!"
Harry looked at the battered book in her hands. "Angels?" he said, emphasising the plural.
"They're a whole race," said Ron. "They've been around for centuries. This book is one big warning about them."
"But, Harry," said Hermione urgently, thrusting the book into his hands. "Look at this bit."
Harry read the passage she pointed out, and his face fell. "But that means…"
"…if the Boggart took on the image of an Angel to try and scare you…" said Hermione.
"…then it's not a Boggart anymore." Ron finished.
Harry looked at the book again, reading aloud the passage that sealed their fate.
"That which holds the image of an Angel, becomes itself an Angel."