CHAPTER FOUR
THE MIDNIGHT EXPEDITION
A flash of light streaked through the swirls of black nothingness. The coursing rivers of deep colors swarmed in a hypnotizing sequence. The rumbling, thunderous roars traveled throughout the sea of space. A great mass of dark shadows rampaged into the darkness... wreaking havoc in its path...
Harry awoke to another flash of light. He sat bolt upright, breathing hard, sweat glistening on his forehead. He felt as if his body was still being churned in that whirl pool of dark clouds. Reaching over his bedside table, he found his glasses and put them on. As the room came into focus, another bolt of lightning streaked across the swirled black and gray sky. The storm seemed to be never-ending. Outside, rain was splattering on the roofs and windows of the castle, sending millions of tiny echoes throughout its halls and rooms. Harry lowered himself back down and lay there, listening to the distant sounds of the storm all around... and something else...
Aside from the booming thunder and the patter of rain, there was another fainter sound... like someone yelling in the halls. Not like a scream of bloody murder... more like shouts of warning. Harry sat up again, straining his ears to hear the words... he could just barely make out "wake up!" and "hurry!", but nothing else was audible.
He climbed down onto the cold stone floor. Something's going on down there, he though to himself, his curiosity getting the better of him as he grabbed his wand off the table. I'm going to find out what it is... I'm tired of being told not to worry, that everything will be taken care of for me... I need to know what's going on. He opened the trunk at the end of his bed and took out the shimmering silver invisibility cloak. He pulled it on and over his head, then tiptoed to the door. He took a last look at the other four boys sleeping soundly in their own beds and slowly cracked the door open. Slipping quickly through and closing it again, he hurried down the spiral staircase and through the common room.
A sound on the other side of the room made him skid to a halt and spin around. Someone was sitting in a giant armchair by the fireplace and had obviously heard him.
"Who's there?" It was Hermione. Harry could recognize her voice anywhere.
"Hermione! It's me..." Harry pulled down the hood of his cloak.
"Harry! What are you doing up?"
"I was just going to ask you the same thing."
Suddenly, more faint shouts came from the other side of the painting covering the common room entrance. "I've been hearing that for ten minutes straight, now." said Hermione, staring uneasily at the door.
"I was just about to go have a look see." Harry said, turning back towards the entrance.
"Wait! I'm coming with you!" Hermione leaped up from the chair and hurried over, pulling the cloak over herself as well.
"Hermione, I don't think that's such a goo-"
"Hush! I'm coming with you and that's that!"
"But-"
"Would you rather me inform a professor of your little expedition?" She gave him a stare that almost transformed her into a spitting image of Professor McGonagall without the tight bun on the back of her head.
"It's just... if we get caught, we'll both get into trouble. And besides, aren't you more intent on keeping a clean record for yourself?"
"I'd just as soon eat a vomit-flavored Every-Flavor Bean than let you out into the halls by yourself at this time! Especially with all this Abaddon business going on."
"You know, you're starting to sound like you did four years ago..."
"Good. Now, let's go."
Harry stared bewildered at her as she pushed the portrait door open. They both climbed out, though with some difficulty. Harry glanced up at the portrait to make sure the fat lady was there so that they didn't get locked out. She was there, and was wide awake as well. There was also a certain anxiousness about her.
"Oh dear me. Who's there?" she asked, glancing around nervously. Harry and Hermione lifted the edge of the cloak to reveal their faces. "And just what do you two think you're doing? And with all this ruckus..."
"You wouldn't happen to know what's going on would you?" Hermione asked. "Who's running around yelling at this hour?"
"Dears, your guess is as good as mine. I haven't a clue what it's all about, but I do hope something hasn't gone wrong."
"Well, if we find out, we'll let you know." Harry said, pulling the cloak back over their heads.
"Alright, but don't think I encouraged you into this. I think it's wrong and dangerous to be out of your dormitories in the midst of all this chaos."
"Don't worry. We'll be fine." Harry reassured her as they slowly started down the hall, following the continuous shouts and hollers. As they came to the end of the corridor the sounds could be heard to the right, but seemed to be growing steadily fainter. They turned towards them and continued down to a door. Harry reached out and tried the handle. It was locked.
By now, they were used to this kind of obstacle. Hermione took her wand out of a pocket in her bathrobe. She pointed it at the door handle and whispered "Alohomora!" The door swung easily open, and they tiptoed through into another long, dark corridor with a staircase at the end. They continued to travel through halls and doorways, and down many flights of stairs, then up some. The castle was now silent except for the occasional echoes of distant footsteps, and the bellowing rumbles from the storm outside.
The two of them jumped when they heard a door slamming in a hall not too far off. After exchanging nervous glances, they continued to yet another staircase that lead up into a deathly silent unknown. They stared up into the darkness, now thinking that perhaps they should turn around and find a different route. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the hall just enough so that they could barely make out a gradual curve in the stairs, turning around a shadowy corner and out of sight.
Harry turned to Hermione. "Maybe we'd better turn around." Hermione nodded somewhat anxiously. Just as they started back down the hall in the other direction, more shouts caught their attention, echoing off the walls in the distant darkness beyond the staircase. They glanced at each other, now afraid that they'd have to tackle the mysterious, eerie unknown after all.
"I really don't like the looks of that flight of stairs, Harry." Hermione said, staring towards it with an expression of almost pure fright.
"Neither do I... But that seems to be where the sounds are coming from. Maybe if we could find some source of light..." Harry glanced around for a torch or lantern that was set low enough to reach. He spotted a candle sitting on a windowsill at the base of the stairs, melted to just an inch above the holder. It looked like it had been sitting there for at least an hour or so... which was just about how long they had been hearing the voices.
Harry took a slow, quavering breath and motioned for Hermione to follow him. They walked to the tall, paned window and paused a moment to examine the candle.
"Do you think someone else has been here already?" Hermione asked, almost dreading the answer she might hear.
"Maybe... but if so, why didn't they take the candle with them?" Harry gazed at the melty candle, deep in thought. "Perhaps... perhaps they didn't want to be seen when they got to the top of the staircase, wherever it leads." he said, now somewhat drawn towards it, with a desire to explore. "We might as well go and see what's up there." Harry found himself with a new sense of courage.
"Alright, I suppose." Apparently, Hermione wasn't feeling the same. After Harry took the candle in a steady hand, they began towards the stairs, walking very slowly at first. As they started up the first couple of steps Hermione clutched onto Harry's arm, quite paranoid. The walls, though far apart, seemed to lean in towards each other in the darkness. Quick footsteps, slams, and shouts were heard clearer and louder than ever in the distance. The flickering light from the candle created dancing shadows and eerie shapes on the darkened stone surfaces.
They slowly followed the curve in the stairs, the darkness seeming more and more pressing as they climbed each step. Around a final bend, a small wooden door only about five and a half feet tall appeared. It had a round, knocker-style door handle with beautiful designs and patterns engraved into it. Harry and Hermione stopped at the door and listened for anyone that might be in the room or hall just beyond it.
A low, drawling voice came from behind the door. "Take them out. I'll go down and retrieve some more ingredients." It was Snape! What was he doing in there? What did he need ingredients for? Harry and Hermione barely had time to think before they heard footsteps coming straight for the door. They both turned and frantically raced down the stairs, as they heard the door creak open. "Who's there?!" Snape shouted just after they rounded the corner.
As they spotted the lighted hall at the bottem of the stairs, they could hear Snape hurrying down after them. Harry practically threw the candle at the windowsill where it had originally been sitting and it luckily landed upright, if hanging over the edge slightly. They sprinted down the hall as fast as they could, the invisibility cloak hanging off their shoulders now.
They ran back up corridors, staircases, and doors until they finally found the hall with the painting of the fat lady hanging on the far wall. Breathing hard and exhausted, they trudged up to the portrait.
"P-.. pickle juice." Harry wheezed, trying to draw in his breath.
"Oh, I'm so very glad you've gotten back safely, dears. I was worried sick!" The fat lady swung her portrait open and the two climbed back in.
As the door closed and they were once again in the safety of the common room, Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of combined horror and relief. Without another word, they both turned their separate ways up to their dorms, too sleepy to wish each other "good night".
As Harry snuck back into his room and tiptoed across the floor, he considered what he had seen... that candle sitting there, the mystery door,... and Snape. What had he been doing in there? And who was he talking to?
Even more questions filled Harry's mind as he dropped the invisibility cloak back into his trunk and climbed into bed. The thunder and lightning continued in vain outside the window, gusts of wind and rain battered at the glass. Harry removed his glasses and set them on the table by his bed, trying to clear his brain of the incessant queries.
He lay down, pulling the covers up to his chin and dreamed of a dark, silent staircase...
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