A/N: Hi. There is a slight bit of gore in the second paragraph of this so just be prepared. Nothing to graphic. In fact, it just says there's a lot of blood so you needn't worry. That was actually completely pointless, but yeah. Just to let you know.
Chapter 3:
"Do you think she meant Voldermort?" Hermione asked after Harry explained what he had heard. He had done the exact opposite of what Professor Coldrick told him.
"Well, who else would she be so afraid of?" Harry stated.
"Well-" Hermione began, but was cut short as a crying and panting 2nd year came running into the common room. Hermione got up immediately and rushed over to her.
"What's wrong?" she asked in a reassuring voice.
"It's…(sob)…Professor…(pant)…Flitwick…(sob, sob)…he's…(sob)…dead." the little girl managed to cry out.
"It's okay. It's okay." Hermione comforted, but looked at Harry and Ron with wide eyes and a desperate expression.
"We'll go. Catch us up in a minute." Harry instructed. Hermione nodded and he and Ron ran towards Flitwick's office.
When they arrived at the scene, McGonnagol, Filch, Coldrick and various other teachers, among some students were already there, the students crowded round the door frame, going into the room. Harry and Ron weaved their way through the crowd to get a better look. But they soon regretted it as they saw Professor Flitwick's mangled and slashed up body on the floor, a pool of blood around it. They grimaced at the sight, and Harry saw Professor Coldrick with her hand over her mouth and shaking her head disbelievingly. She closed her eyes to calm down, then turned round and made her way through the crowd.
"Excuse me." she repeated, her voice wavering slightly. Harry and Ron watched after her. Ron turned to Harry.
"D'ya think it's…" he trailed off, referring to the conversation between Coldrick and McGonnagol had previously that day Harry had told him and Hermione about earlier. Harry shrugged.
"Um…I'll be back. Wait here for Hermione." Harry said. Ron nodded with a confused expression, and Harry ran up the hallway after a retreating Professor Coldrick.
"Um, Professor? Are you okay?" Harry asked, knocking on the slightly open door into her office. There was no reply.
"Uh, Professor?" he repeated.
"Huh? Oh right. Come in." came Professor Coldrick's voice from inside. Harry peered round the door to see Professor Coldrick looking pale and flustered and with stray strands of hair coming out of her clipped up ponytail. She rushed around, stopping every now so often and looking round the room distractedly and then, remembering what she was previously doing, and continued gathering up her possessions.
When everything seemed to be packed, she stood there, checking the room and tried to run her hand through her hair, but realised it was clipped up and had to let it down.
"Well, that seems to be all...now where's my broom?" she muttered to herself and began searching for it. Caught in the moment, Harry pointed to a corner of the room and Professor Coldrick rushed over and brought it over to the rest of her stuff.
"Thanks." she mumbled. "Right. It's time to leave. It was nice knowing you, Harry. Now I'm going to go jump in a lake. No...wait. That's not right. Um...I'm going somewhere. Goodbye." she said pleasantly to Harry and turned to the window with her broom.
"Wait! What are you doing? Are you...drunk?" Harry asked.
"What? No. I'm not drunk. I don't drink. Except butterbeer of course. But that doesn't count. Does it? Oh, I don't know anymore. Anyway, being drunk would be inappropriate as a teacher. Well, ex-teacher. I'm probably going to ripped up into shreds soon. Just like Professor Flitwick..." she seemed to sober for a moment as she mentioned his name.
"But-but you can't leave! You just started!"
"Well, I beg to differ. Um,it's a free country and I am."
"But, what about you stuff? You can't take all that on a broom!"
"Well, it'll all end up...somewhere. Hey, I know. You can have it! There, you've inherited my stuff. Congratulations. Wait...you're a boy. I know, give it to Hermione or something. Now, I really have to go." Professor Coldrick rambled, and turned to leave again.
"Wait, if you're gonna go, why are you flying?"
"Because I can attract his attention and he'll follow me away from the school. And it will be easier to escape by broom. Now I really need to go." Professor Coldrick explained and turned yet again.
"But...you're mad! You'll get yourself killed! You can't go!"
"You're right, Harry. She can't go." Professor McGonnagol said walking into the room. "Nova, what are you doing?"
"I'm leaving. It's not safe here." she replied.
"What are you talking about? This is probably the safest-"
"Not me, Minerva. The rest of the school. Flitwicks already been killed. Who's it going to be next? You? A student? The helpless replacement?"
"I wouldn't exactly call Michael helpless." McGonnagol said with a sly smile. Coldrick turned around slowly.
"Michael? Michael Roberts?" she asked in shock. McGonnagol nodded.
"I-I-I...he...but..." she stuttered.
"We should get you to the hospital wing. You look pretty shaken up. Come on. Infact, Harry. Would you take Professor Coldrick to the wing. I have a...mess to clear up." she requested sadly. Harry nodded, and led Professor Coldrick out.
When they arrived at the hospital wing, there was already a man Harry had never seen before, leaning against a wall next to the only spare bed left. All the others were filled with vomitting and uncontrolably sobbing children. Harry supposed they were the children who had seen Flitwick's mangled state. The man turned towards the door and his face lit up. Beside him, Professor Coldrick ran towards the man. 'Guessing that's Michael then.' Harry said to himself. Michael had short, brown, curly hair and brown eyes. He was only a few inches taller than Harry, and probably only a few millimetres taller than Ron. He was only one or two inches taller than Professor Coldrick.
For a while, they just stood there, hugging each other, but then they pulled apart.
"So...how have you been doing?"