Harry Potter and the Wolf of the Eighth Floor

by Minas Morgul

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year, not knowing what hazardous attacks lie ahead in store for him. As he and his best friends, Ron and Hermione, journey through this ominous year, a myriad of surprises are conjured up for them to witness.

27. Following the Shadow

27 (Following the Shadow)

Harry climbed up the stairs, and directly headed to his dormitory. It was empty, for his entire fellow sixth year Gryffindors gathered downstairs. He crept up to his bed and lay there. Harry was very proud of Dennis Creevey, the creator of the Study Society himself. He realized that his leadership skills are better than the rest of his mates, who where his, Dennis's, age. Also, Harry has seen a remarkable improvement in his grades lately. Probably, with Harry's high marks, Dennis was encouraged to come up with something that would serve the school. Anyway, it was very smart of him to think of such a society that would keep order between students, organize their work, and offer them any help they needed. And off went Harry's mind, to the days of before…
Harry was in the Room of Requirement, discussing the rules of being a DA member for the first time…Harry was teaching them about stunning spells…Ron beat Hermione luckily with the Expelliarmus disarming spell…Cho was being lousy…Neville had succeeded in the Expelliarmus spell…Hermione's Patronus changed into an otter…And then, suddenly, his thoughts and memories were interrupted by the most unpleasant sight…Voldemort was fighting Dumbledore in the Department of Mysteries…the flash of green light hit the statue, missing Dumbledore…

Harry woke up with fear in his eyes; he didn't know whether it was a memory or an actual nightmare. He looked around him, dreading that the worst may come. But nothing, Voldemort wasn't around him, nor were his Death Eaters. He was safe and secure, but still worried and apprehensive about what he just saw in his nap. He wondered…why were these visions repeating themselves in his sleep? Did he not have enough practice with Occlumency last year? But of course, that was the reason. If only Harry wasn't attracted to the Pensieve that lay on Snape's desk…if only he didn't creep into his worst memory ever…then he would have been arriving on afternoons at Snape's dungeon. He would've had more time to free his mind of thoughts, and thus avoiding being mind-manipulated by Voldemort. Harry felt remorse for doing such thing; guilt far beyond any other guilt. He truly regretted what happened in those days. But again, if all of that didn't occur, what would've happened then? Would Snape have torn him apart with the wearisome practice? Would his memories still be exposed to others'? And yet…although Snape despises Harry and loathes him more than anything else, he couldn't betray Professor Dumbledore's trust. He couldn't have left Harry alone in the dark, with no help on his side. Beside that, he was already a member of the Order. Harry's mind was crammed with thoughts and wonders, and no more space was left for the coming days.

Tired as he was, Harry got out of bed, not even caring to tidy up the messy blanket. He stared at his watch, and got a look of surprise on his face. Busy worrying about the past and future, Harry hadn't noticed the time fly by. What seemed like minutes to him has actually been hours. Two whole hours, which seemed rather short to Harry, have passed since Harry put his head on the pillow to recline.

Quickly, Harry dressed up, picked up his wand, and pushed the door open. There came the light of the glowing fire from downstairs, which slightly blinded him. Harry didn't notice anyone there; probably, they would've all left him alone, hungry for dinner.

"Hello," yawned Harry, as he joined Hermione, Ron, and Neville for a meal.
"Welcome back," sputtered Neville, spitting bits of sausage out of his mouth.
"What were you doing for the last two hours?" asked Ron, piercing his chicken leg with a golden fork.
"Sleeping…very tired," yawned Harry again, losing his appetite as he saw Dean spit the chicken bones out of his mouth.
"We waited for you," murmured Hermione, "but it seemed that it would take you ages to wake up, after all what happened."
"How do you know?" queried Harry, surprised. "You were asleep too!"
"I know," replied Hermione, "but I woke up ages before you did. I only slept for half an hour, and how lousy it was."
Ron looked at the two curiously.
"Anyway, here I am," commented Harry.
"What did you see in your dreams?" asked Ron, grinning at him.
"How do you know I've been dreaming?"
"Well, naturally, nightmares end quickly… and so do beautiful dreams," chattered Ron, grinning at Harry, and then averting his eyes from him to Hermione.
Harry stared at him, wondering if Ron was getting better in Divination.
"To tell the truth, I have been dreaming," admitted Harry uneasily.
"Well?" asked Hermione impatiently.
"The dreams have been repeating themselves recently, and…they…well, I must say that they do me no good," explained Harry vaguely.
"What do you mean?" asked Ron. "Hang on, were you dreaming about…." From the side of his left eye, he looked at Hermione.
"No I wasn't Ron!" roared Harry angrily. "And stop this nonsense!"
Ron laughed at him, silenced by the looks of his serious solemn eyes. He took some lamb chops from the plate beside his sister, Ginny.
"Anyway, I keep having these dreams about last year, and the years before. At first, they're peaceful, and they remind me about the great times we had together in the DA, and the previous years. But then, dark memories come back to me. It's like when I'm in the dream, I'm trying to push them away, but no use," gossiped Harry.
Hermione nodded her head, understanding what he meant perfectly.
"Honestly Harry, you should go see Firenze about this," said Hermione, knowing that her advice won't be any use to Harry.
And indeed, he laughed sarcastically when she mentioned his name.
"Allright, then, see Dumbledore about it," argued Hermione.
"Why would Dumbledore even bother listening? He's had enough last year!"
"I'm sure that Dumbledore would do whatever it takes to protect you…an us too," continued Hermione earnestly.
"Look," stammered Harry, beginning to get exasperated, "why don't you be sensible here? I mean, isn't time that we depend on ourselves?"
"On ourselves?" asked Hermione in disbelief. "Harry, we're way too young to handle evil."
"Is that so? Then how come I was only eleven when I saved the Philosopher's Stone? How come I was only twelve when I killed the basilisk and finished off Riddle? How come I was only thirteen when I saved Sirius, Buckbeak, and saved your neck from the dementors? How come I was only fourteen when I battled through the tournament and saw him again in the graveyard? And how come I was only fifteen when I was able to handle the Death Eaters, and save my friends which include you?" Harry was enraged now. He could feel the anger in his chest, and he pretty much desired to get it out at any price.
"Harry, I understand you quite well, and I appreciate what you've done, and believe me, I'm very grateful to you," these were Hermione's soothing words, which had a great effect on lowering the pressure down to normal.
"Hermione, look, I'm sorry…" began Harry, apologizing for his behaviour, "all I meant was… we're in terrible danger, and these horrific dreams that keep on repeating themselves in my sleep may be an omen of imprisonment in the future, or worse…death."
"But those dreams…you've had them before, and the content within occurred no matter what we did, and this was all part of the past," twittered Hermione.
"Exactly," groaned Harry, as he poured him some apple juice, "just imagine being a prisoner of your mind. If this goes on for so long, I'll never be able to sleep calmly again."
"Which you won't," interrupted Ron.
Harry shifted his eyes to him, as if he just realized that Ron spoke.
"How do you know I won't?" asked Harry, wondering what Ron was thinking about this very moment.
"Well, it's simple, isn't it?" began Ron. "You should start to consider practicing Occlumency."
"And do you think it's as simple as that?" asked Harry.
"No, I do not think it's easy, because I know the suffering you went through last year. Anyways, if you want your mind protected from evil's control, you'd better start practicing."
"Ron, you don't know anything about the torturing Harry had to get used to last year," talked Hermione.
"Look, whatever you decide to do, I was just trying to help!" twined Ron.
"Well, thank you very much; if your help means pain and agony, no sir."
Ron frowned at him, and then he felt disappointed.

"Hey, Potter!" screamed the cold voice of Draco Malfoy.
"What now?" muttered Harry to himself.
Malfoy approached the Gryffindor, terribly disgusted from the sight of Dean throwing out his pork chops.
"Hey Potter! Look at this!" whimpered Malfoy, holding out the Daily Prophet that arrived since morning.
Reluctantly, Harry grabbed the Daily Prophet from his hand, and stared at the front page. Meanwhile, Malfoy was busy shooting Hermione and Ron loathing looks.

The Ministry of Magic has just been informed of a massive breakout of some forty Death Eaters from Azkaban Prison. Only last June, the very same Death Eaters were caught in the Department of Mysteries fighting a courageous group of students from Hogwarts, whose leader was Harry Potter (Harry was very glad that they mentioned his name). A few days later, those Death Eaters, including a previous governor of the school, Lucius Malfoy, were sent to Azkaban prison. For seven months, the Ministry of Magic had assured that the Death Eaters were well guarded and imprisoned with the help of the dementors. Only yesterday, the Ministry heard that some forty cells in Azkaban had been emptied, and the bars were clearly broken. Nobody knows how the Death Eaters ever managed to free themselves of their capture after seven months with their souls almost gone. Truly, it was a mistake, indeed, that the Ministry didn't order the dementors to perform their kiss on the dark Death Eaters. Fear awaits those who are safe at magical lands, and Hogwarts School in particular. The Ministry of Magic is now trying its best to locate all the Death Eaters at once, and avoid their arrival at Hogwarts, for they might spread fear and fright as servitude to their master, He Who Must Not Be Named.

Every line of news seemed to be deeper and more significant in meaning than the one before. Harry's eyes were moving quickly from left to right, and then from right to left. The words he read made him alarmed. Although he had enough guts, courage, and bravery to face the Death Eaters like he did last year, he wasn't sure it was a perfect idea, for he doesn't know what they've got planned in their dark evil minds.
The Daily Prophet was now shaking rapidly in Harry's grip. He slowly stared at Malfoy, who had a nasty grin on his face.
"I told you, Potter," began Malfoy happily, "I told you they'd come back someday; I told you you'll pay."
Harry's eyes widened as he glared furiously at Malfoy.
"And now the Daily Prophet has reminded you again," quacked Malfoy, gazing at Crabbe and Goyle, who were both satisfied with this bit of news, "that my word was true. You see, Potter, my father and his fellow Death Eaters aren't easy to control, because they've been trained personally by the Dark Lord."
"Look here you piece of slime," grunted Harry angrily, "whatever your father and his friends decide to do, we'll be ready for him. And if that means you joining him for a bit of glory, please be free to do so, because it'll be my absolute pleasure finishing you off with him."
Malfoy's face turned pink, as he glared at Harry impatiently.
"Well, let us hope that we could stay all night watching you battle with my father and his friends," laughed Malfoy, "better start the fight in the Quidditch pitch, because there's no enough space here to fight you and your pathetic side-kicks."

At those very words, Harry waited no more. He was gritting his teeth, and his fist was ready. He was going to raise it any time now…
"May I have your undivided attention here?" came the warm voice of old Professor Dumbledore. Malfoy backed away, joining the stuck-up Slytherins.
"Now, I would like to say that there's been a change in schedule for the next Hogsmeade trip. It has been postponed from February third, to fourteenth."
Ron moaned when he heard.
"Great," he argued quietly, "now we can visit Winky at St Mungo's Hospital, go to Honeydukes and The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop, and enjoy Valentine's Day at the very same time."
Harry giggled at Ron. Hermione, on the other hand, paid not attention to the little chat. She was carefully listening to Professor Dumbledore.
"The staff and I thought that it was wise to have a holiday on Valentine's Day. Anyway, we need a bit of emotions and feelings here to suppress the intense feelings of hard work and tests," explained Professor Dumbledore clearly. "I think that's all. Please, continue eating, for the feast hasn't ended yet."

Obediently, rather hastily, everyone's eyes went back to their old position, which was their plate.
Harry didn't feel like eating, so he intended to get up, when Ron pulled him back down.
"So, what was that talk with Malfoy about?" asked Ron, rather intrigued.
Harry let out a sigh, and then began talking.
"He showed me an article on the front page, which I hadn't noticed as I read earlier this morning," began Harry, satisfying Ron's curiosity, "it said that Malfoy's father and company (he meant his fellow Death Eater) escaped from their cells at Azkaban, in addition to the Ministry's hard work that included searching for the Death Eaters' locations."
Ron raised his eyebrow, and swallowed a lump. Anxiety filled his heart.
"And?" asked Hermione, who happened to be listening to their conversation too.
"That's what the whole point of it was," mouthed Harry, hoping that he wouldn't need more explanation to provide.
"This rings a bell," spoke Hermione, digging a way into her memory and mind, "maybe that's why Dumbledore changed the date, the one for visiting Hogsmeade?"
Harry and Ron nodded.
"But why? What good will it do?" requested Harry.
"Don't you see? He wants us all away from school, so that he'll be free to find out more about the Death Eaters that are on the loose,"
"What about the first and second years? They're not permitted to visit the village," pointed out Harry.
"I know, but he will have his own way of protecting them, he'd probably send them home," discussed Hermione.
"And that means…" began Ron.
"That the Death Eaters will arrive here sooner or later." Hermione finished up the sentence.
Harry was in deep thought.
"But then, how come Dumbledore doesn't expect them to come any earlier? I mean, they've got more than enough time to come here. Why would they wait till February?" asked Ron curiously.
"Again, I keep telling you," spluttered Hermione, "Voldemort and his Death Eaters never act unless they've had it all planned."
"So you're suggesting that they're having a tour around Europe for one month and then they're going to attack?" said Ron ironically, which made Hermione enrage.
"Don't be silly! Not in these matters!" stammered Harry; he didn't like it when Ron was joking about serious stuff like this.
"Sorry," apologized Ron, "so, what are we going to do now?"
Harry shook his head, and let out a sigh.
"I'll guess we'll have to wait until February to find out," murmured Harry.
"By the way, Harry," began Ron, "I wanted to talk to you about the Wronski Feint."
"What about it?" asked Harry, a bit glad to change the subject to something he likes, Quidditch.
"I thought we should take turns in practicing it," suggested Ron.
"We? Ron, it's a dangerous Seeker diversion," recited Harry.
"I know, but…what would go wrong if all the team members tried it?" asked Ron.
Harry raised an eyebrow, and grinned at Ron.
"Who do you think you are? Victor Krum?" asked Harry, giggling at Ron, who got slightly shy.
"No, but…well, we've got to try some new moves in our training sessions; we could even do it on our next match," cheered Ron.
"Why are you over the moon about it?" asked Hermione, who has never seen Ron in this state.
"I don't know; maybe I'm the legendary Charlie Weasley's shadow or something," continued Ron humorously.
Both Harry and Hermione chuckled.
"Nice metaphor, Ron," complimented Hermione.
Ron got a look of confusion and satisfaction at the same time.
"So, what do you think?" asked Ron impatiently.
"Ron, I myself, the seeker of Gryffindor team, have never tried it before!" confirmed Harry.
"Then I suppose it's time for you to do so." squabbled Ron. "Just imagine yourself riding the broom, and all of a sudden you're diving sixty or fifty feet to catch the snitch. Would you crash? Or perhaps fly up straight away due to heavy training?"
"Ron, if you want to master the Wronski Feint, go ahead and read Quidditch Throughout the Ages or another book," advised Harry, "I'm telling you, it's very advanced, and even the best of the best here at Hogwarts wouldn't be able to do it."
"Even Victor found difficulty performing it in the World Cup," added Hermione.
Ron nodded.
"I just thought I'd like to do something useful to our team," croaked Ron.
"We appreciate your help, Ron. Some things aren't just that easy to accomplish and master," commented Harry. He felt some guilt and over self-confidence to not agree with Ron's brilliant suggestion. Long has he desired to perform the Wronski Feint in front of an audience, but he had never actually tried it.
"Ok Ron," agreed Harry, "if we find suitable time, we'll try it out. Just for you, mate."
On came the cheer and happiness, and away went the sadness and disappointment.
"Thank you Harry," beamed Ron at him. Hermione smiled at Harry, too.
"I've always thought of mastering an advanced move on the Quidditch pitch," stated Harry, "but I've been too cowardly to not even try it."
Ron nodded in agreement.
"Thanks to you, we'll win the Quidditch Cup this year, hopefully," smiled Hermione. Harry grinned at her, and gave her a thumbs-up.

Quarter of an hour later, every shimmering light in the Great Hall began to become dimmer. Every student, even those who didn't finish up their plates, left the four house tables, and headed directly to their dormitory.

Of course, the eight prefects were busy chasing some mischievous first years that fancied a walk in the school grounds. Luckily, Hermione and Ron were able to summon five first year Hufflepuffs right in time, before they reached Hagrid's hut. Ron thought about putting them in detention; however, he didn't feel it was necessary to do such thing just for walking outside the castle. Hermione, on the other hand, warned them about doing such a thing again. She pointed out that leaving the castle and wandering alone in the grounds could eventually lead to loss of students in the Dark Forest.
"Remember us Hermione, in first year?" asked Ron, laughing.
"Yes, what's your point?"
"I was just thinking. We were warning them about not wandering alone in the grounds, and that reminded me of us. We didn't use to care what happened to our safety."
"Well, at least we had a goal already set. And we achieved it when we saved the Philosopher's Stone," replied Hermione, soon reaching the front gate.

Leaning on the wall, waited Harry. Hermione and Ron came into view, their shadows moving rapidly on the wet green grass.
"Those first year Hufflepuffs are a mess, you know," hollered Ron.
"Why?" asked Harry, pushing the door open, and the three stepped in.
"We're lucky we summoned them back in time, but you should've seen them," emphasized Ron.
"They were rolling in the wet grass, and mud was covering their robes from top to bottom," speculated Hermione, who was giggling.
"Then the little nasty gang thought of stepping into Hagrid's hut, to clean up themselves and have a nice cup of tea," added Ron.
"Anyway, we summoned them quickly before a boy stretched his hand to knock on the door," muttered Hermione hastily, longing for sitting beside the fire in the common room.
Harry kept on laughing as he pictured the five first year Hufflepuffs rolling on the grass like dogs, and then getting soaked with mud, like a hippopotamus enjoying a mud-bath.

Later, Harry, Hermione, and Ron reached the Fat Lady's Portrait.
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady, as usual.
"Pineapple pudding," reported Harry instantly, although the password seemed a bit weird.
Obediently, the door sprang open, and the three stepped in.
Colin and Dennis Creevey were seated on the same armchair; discussing some responsibilities that Dennis has to get used to, for he was made the organizing worker. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were on the ground, playing a game of Gobstones. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were finishing up their Transfiguration homework that was due the next day.
"Harry, Harry!" called Dennis Creevey.
"Yes?" answered Harry, as he came nearer to Dennis.
"I was wondering if you could help me with our homework," squeaked Dennis, "I didn't understand this part."
Dennis unfolded the piece of parchment, and revealed the question to Harry.

3- what are the five major causes that lead to a Tawkus's death?
Harry read the question several times before he realized what it meant.

"Oh, it means what five things could a wizard do to finish off a Tawkus," replied Harry, uncertain that Dennis understood him.
"I don't get it," mumbled Dennis.
"I mentioned it in class, Dennis. Where were you?"
"I was handing out last class's quiz while you were talking, and I find it hard to do two things at a time," spewed Dennis.
"Oh, I see now. Well, I think they're mentioned somewhere on page 243," pointed out Harry.
Dennis beamed at him.
"Thanks sir—I mean Harry,"

"This boy is one of a kind," hurled Ron, "he keeps asking questions about his studies. Wish I had this in my veins."
"Right, all we do is come up with answers and land ourselves in detentions—that means you only," acknowledged Harry, happy that he's a teacher.
Ron frowned at Harry, very jealous, while Hermione laughed at the pair of them.
"I'm going to bed," mentioned Ron, and off he went.
Harry stared at him, hardly believing Ron's jealousy.
"Don't worry, he's been like this before," claimed Hermione. "When you were selected as Hogwarts' second champion, he's been worse than he is now."
Harry nodded. He remembered how he had a row with Ron due to being Hogwarts' second champion in fourth year. It was really frustrating.

For half an hour, Hermione was reading her Arithmancy book. She has read ninety-nine pages so far.
"Don't you ever get bored of reading?" asked Harry.
"Yes I do," which came as a shock to Harry. "I don't enjoy reading things that don't make sense, and have no use in the real life."
"You mean the sort of thing Umbridge taught us last year?" suggested Harry.
"Exactly," responded Hermione, "Arithmancy here, on the other hand, has great uses and is sensible."

Just seconds later, Harry sensed something cold pass by. He opened his eyes, as wide as they can be, and looked over Hermione's shoulder. He had a terrible feeling that something he dreaded was present, here in the common room. He got up from his seat, and meandered around the chairs and fireplace. Hermione was noticing his strange behavior.
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione curiously, looking at whatever Harry looked at.
"I just felt…" began Harry, and then he saw it. The black shadow was back, and it seemed stuck to the ceiling. Amazingly, it began moving forward, like crawling upside-down. There was a tail of smoke forming at the rear side. And right in the middle, was an animal shaped stomach. Over by the front formed the unmistaken head of a wolf. Harry discerned the crooked nose, and he saw some black teeth sticking out of the sides of the mouth. There was also a totally black eye staring at him from the side, and it gave him a wink.
Harry's mouth was wide open, and his eyes got a wild look. He watched the black shadow, which was invisible to everybody else but him, move away.
"What is it Harry?" asked Hermione again, closing her Arithmancy book.
"Remember the black shadow I told you about?" asked Harry. "It's back."
Hermione got a look of fright on her face.
"What does it want from you?"
"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out," prattled Harry, and with that he headed to the door.
"Wait," said Hermione, grabbing his fist, "I'm coming with you."
"No Hermione, it might be dangerous," denied Harry.
"Harry, you can't go alone!" cried Hermione.
"What if something bad happens to you?" asked Harry.
"And what if something bad happens to you?" replied Hermione with a question.
Harry was too afraid to risk the chance of loosing Hermione.
"Allright," agreed Harry, "but you'd better stay close."
Hermione nodded.
They just reached the door, when Harry remembered something significant.
"Wait here, I'll get the Marauder's Map," whinnied Harry, and he dashed away.
Into his dormitory, he stepped. Ron's snores were very loud and annoying. Harry quickly took the brilliant Marauder's Map out of his schoolbag, which was perfectly concealed and hidden from eyes.
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good!" muttered Harry.
Momentarily, tiny dots of ink appeared on the old piece of parchment. Harry saw a dot labeled "Professor Snape" moving around the school grounds, which made Harry relieved. He didn't want Snape in perfect eye and earshot, nor did he desire trouble with him.
Harry intended to get up, but something caught his attention. It was gleaming, and shining bright yellow. The source of light came from his trunk. Harry wondered what it was. Slowly and cautiously, he opened his school trunk. The light was so bright that he was squinting at it. Then, he realized what it was. It was the sword that Professor Lupin gave him last summer. He never actually held it with him wherever he went, but now, something told him that it would be wise to carry it along. After that, another thing flowed in his mind. He remembered Professor Lupin telling him that the sword will glow yellow whenever danger was close. Harry thought the sword must've glowed a dozen times this year, when he never realized it. Also, part of Professor Lupin's advice, was that the sword can be used to cut the neck of the enemy. He said that one good stroke would do the trick. In addition to that, he reminded Harry that it was important of him to hit with strong emotions and feelings; otherwise, the enemy shall not die. It was a load of instructions that Harry had to memorize and apply when facing danger that awaits him. Carefully, Harry stretched out his hand to grab the sword. It was as light as a feather, but sharp like a basilisk's fang. Hastily, he stuck the sword in his jeans, and his wand on the other side. Meanwhile, he folded the Marauder's Map, and placed it in his pocket.

Down the stairs he came, and to the door he headed. Waiting for him was Hermione.
"What were you doing up there?" asked Hermione, who thought Harry had gone for ages.
"I was careful not to wake Ron," began Harry, "and then I took the Marauder's Map, and started its functioning."
"That could've taken seconds though," gurgled Hermione, stepping out of the door.
"I know," continued Harry, shutting the door behind him, "but then I was attracted to this."
He drew out his sword, which stopped glowing.
"Wow! Professor Lupin was right, you're filled with surprises," whispered Hermione.
"Whatever you say," mouthed Harry. "Now, stay close to me, and don't you wander along the corridors."
Hermione nodded, and the two began walking.
For several minutes, Harry and Hermione were following the thick purple line drawn on the red carpet, which lead to more staircases. Every now and then, Harry looked at the Marauder's Map, to avoid bumping into a teacher, or worse, Mr. Filch. His sword didn't glow for a while, but then it did. Automatically, the sword pointed west. Harry didn't know that the sword could act like a compass.
"Why is it pointing west?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Perhaps it means the danger is coming from that side," suggested Harry, and the two continued walking.
The sword was leading them downstairs.
Hermione heard a noise.
"What was that?" she asked nervously, and she looked around her.
"Probably an owl's hoot," replied Harry. Hermione was holding his arm tightly now, and she was hidden behind his back.

On and on they went, until at last, the light from the sword subsided, and faded away. Harry and Hermione found themselves standing in front of a familiar portrait. It had a basket of fruits painted on it, and between the fruits, was a pear. Now, they both understood that they were just outside the kitchens.
Hermione quickly touched the pear, and tickled it. These were Fred and George's instructions to get into the kitchens, often for nicking food.
Out came a doorknob, and Harry pulled it down. He pushed the door open, and the two of them were both inside the kitchens. This time, they were as dark as pitch night. No source of light was available.
"Lumos!" muttered Hermione, and she lit her wand.
Harry's sword suddenly turned his hand east, and glowed yellow again. Through the darkness, which was dimly lit by Harry's sword and Hermione's wand, they meandered. The sword kept on changing its direction, and Harry obediently turned. Hermione had a terrible feeling that something was crawling behind her; it was on the ground. Scared, as she was, she pointed her wand behind her, and was surprised to see what she saw. Crookshanks, which happened to be Hermione's ginger cat, was strolling right behind her.
"He must've followed my scent when we left," Hermione explained to Harry, and she carried him up.

For what seemed like ages, the two kept circling around the big kitchens. Neither Harry's sword, nor Hermione's lit wand pointed out something nasty. Until at last, Harry was shivering. He felt the tense cold come again. Hermione stopped behind him.
"What is it?" whispered Hermione, pointing her wand over Harry's shoulder.
"It's…. here, the black shadow," replied Harry weakly.
Then, the mysterious black shadow came into view. Harry's sword was flickering now, and then a beam of green light shone from the tip of the sword, pointing at the black shadow, which was perfectly outlined in front of the white wall.
Harry and Hermione were shocked to see the gruesome shadow hovering above them. It was as Harry saw it in the common room. The black shadow was shaped like a cunning wolf. It had a long nose, and terribly looking uneven teeth stuck out from the side. The tail of smoke was actually figured like a wolf's tail; it was fluffy. The eyes were wide open, and some yellowish color appeared in them.
Hastily, the shadow flew downwards toward Harry and Hermione. Hermione pointed her wand directly at the coming shadow, and Harry stuck his left hand in his jeans incase he needed his wand.