The Living Dead

Disclaimer: Dangnabit! I still don't own HP!!! Curses!!!

Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts

Harry had to step quickly over dead branches and wayward boulders in order to keep up with Hermione, who had gotten a considerably quicker pace since his seventh year. He and Hermione had apparated to the Forbidden Forest, in order to get as close as possible to Hogwarts. Harry noticed that, unfortunately, the forest had acquired a few more ferocious, slimy animals in the past seventeen years.

"Come on, Harry, we're almost there!" said Hermione unnecessarily. Harry quickened his pace, and in no time, they had reached the clearing behind Hagrid's hut. Though the cabin looked warm and inviting, with its chimney smoking against the cold winter air, they had no time to stop and share a nice rock cake with Hagrid (though probably not one of the cakes would be touched). Harry was forced to trudge through the three-foot-deep snow behind an older version of the Hermione he once knew.

At long last, they reached the great oak doors that led into the entrance hall. Both the travelers heaved a sigh of relief as they were shut off from the bitterly frozen winds, but Hermione would not allow a moments rest. Onward they pressed past paintings, suits of Armour, Peeves (to Harry's great distaste, as Peeves had stolen his wand, and it took all of ten minutes to steal it back), and strange doors that Harry was sure hadn't been there when he attended Hogwarts. Once, Harry was almost certain he heard muffled gasp followed by a sharp "shhhhh!" but dismissed them as the wind.

Finally, they arrived, huffing and puffing, at the stone gargoyle that was the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office.

"Sherbet Lemon," announced Hermione, and the gargoyle leaped aside to reveal a spiraling stone staircase. Harry followed Hermione up those familiar stone steps and into Dumbledore's extravagant office.

"Albus?" Hermione called. Nobody answered. Harry glanced around the room; unsurprised by the fact that nothing had changed over the course of- if what Hermione said was correct-17 years.

"I wonder where Dumbledore's gotten off to," Hermione wondered out loud. Harry shrugged in reply.

"I'll just leave him a note. We'll come back tomorrow to talk to him," she said, voicing her thoughts again. With a wave of her wand, one of the quills on the professor's desk began scribbling a hurried note in midair. Harry had barely a moment to appear astonished at this before Hermione was beckoning to him to follow her. She was starting to remind him of Mcgonagall.

"Come on, Harry, I need to start up my patrol again."

"Patrol?" he asked, puzzled. Hermione sighed.

"Yes, Harry, for student's out of curfew. Come on!" she urged.

For the following hours, Harry walked with Hermione, discussing the crazy things they had done in their school days. Harry had no intention of going to bed, even if he had somewhere to sleep; he wasn't in the least bit tired. He supposed that being 'dead' for 17 years could do that to people. As the minutes passed, dawn slowly crept over the horizon. Hermione yawned; Harry might be wide-awake, but she hadn't slept since yesterday, and she felt dead on her feet.

"Harry, I think I'm going to go take a nap for an hour, before I have to see the students off at the train," she said sleepily.

"Erm, ok, I guess I'll just keep walking," he replied. He had nothing else to do. Hermione just nodded, and made her way to her office.

Harry wondered around aimlessly for a while, at a loss of what to do. A few first years passed him on the way to the Great Hall. Harry wondered briefly if he dared go into the Great Hall to have breakfast. After hearing his stomach grumble, he decided he did. Before he entered the hall, however, he glanced up at the Head Table to see if there were any teachers. Luckily, there was only one, somebody he had never seen before.

The professor at the table was very strange. For starters, his face was hooded, giving him the resemblance to a dementor. Harry shuddered at the thought. The other thing that startled him was the way the professor stared at him as he walked past toward the Gryffindor table, dropping his silverware in the process. Harry turned away quickly, staring at the floor, and quickened his pace, hoping against hope that he didn't recognize him.

Fortunately, Harry reached the Gryffindor table without further difficulties, and had just served himself a plate of bacon when a disgruntled girl made her way over to him angrily.

"Alex Granger!" she screeched, "You are sooooooo dead!"

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Hey loyal readers! Sorry it took so long to update! I think this chapter sounds a little choppy, but I'm too lazy to rewrite it, lol. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!! I really appreciate it. Please review and tell me what you think. (

~*~Ze Czech~*~