The black figure moved through the night, moving faster than the dove flying through the ocean dark skies. The only sound it whisked was the soft motions of the cape.
It moved quickly, stopping at nothing to reach it's destination. When it finally reached the Gryffindor house, they uttered the password to the portrait, it swinging open and granting access. It was quiet, which was rare, considering it was the loudest and most boisterous of them all.
It tiptoed quietly up the steps of the dorms, taking a left into the girls rooms. Working quickly, it achieved it's goal, leaving promptly and quickly back into the night.
Ron awaited eagerly in the common room, waiting for his friends to get up for the new class. It's the most fun he's had in ages and his skin was itching to go back. Finally, Hermione made her descend down the stairs, like Ron, dressed and ready to go. She looked decently surprised to see him.
"Ron?" She said, startled.
"Yes," He replied, packing his bag and quills.
"You're up?" She sarcastically said with just a hint genuine shock. "Since, when did you start caring about your education?"
"When it became bloody wicked." He said, packed and ready to go. "Go get Harry, I want to go in early and ask questions!"
"Alright, alright, I'm going." She laughed.
She soon returned, a groggy Harry trailing right behind her. "What gives Ron? You may have changed, but some of us still like to wake up at normal times."
"You're finally up, you twat. Pack up and let's go!" Ron eagerly bounced.
"You're lucky I prepacked my bag yesterday for once." He grumbled under his breath.
"Good. Come on!" Ron made a start to the door.
"Wait, Ronald! What about breakfast?!" Hermione said in a know-it-all way.
"Breakfast is for the weak! Listen, if you really need it, go ahead, but I'm not waiting for you guys anymore." The portrait hole swung open and Ron strode out. "Bye!"
"He really likes this new class," Hermione commented, picking up her own bag and getting ready to head down.
"Yeah. I don't blame him it's the best class we've had in awhile-except defense against the dark arts, of course. Not to mention, it replaced the worst class." Harry said, holding open the portrait hole for her.
Hermione was about to reply when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.
"Hey Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Look over there."
Harry followed her finger, was pointing at a particularly dusty and dark spot of the carpet. It was covered in a dark dirt, while the rest of the common room was spotless, Harry observed.
"It was probably the twins after Quidditch practice or something." Harry reasoned with a rational tone. "I wouldn't think too much of it."
Hermione eyed the spot suspiciously before following Harry down to breakfast. For some reason, she couldn't rest the unease that had settled in her stomach.
When Harry and Hermione had finally entered the room, the Winchester professors were recollecting a story from one of their past jobs.
"So wait," Ron began, his fascination evident. "You took Professor Dean to a psychic healer because he was going to die otherwise? And it turns out that the lady running the church was controlling the grim reaper?!"
"That about sums it up kiddo." Dean said, flipping through a random wizard textbook he found.
"So what did you do?" Ron asked, leaning in. Everyone in the class was listening intently, hanging on every word that came out of Dean's mouth. Even Malfoy was engaged with the story.
Sam glanced around the class.
"We'd love to tell you, but it seems that everyone is here, so we can start."
The class groaned. "Please finish!" Seamus begged.
"You can't just leave us hanging like that!" Lavender agreed, a sad look on her face.
"Yeah, I know, we're amazing and shit, but we still have jobs to do. Plus, that's the fourth story we've told today, you guys 'll be fine." Dean said, closing the book and standing up.
Hermione and Harry were already next to wrong when he leaned in. "These two are bloody brilliant! Do you know all they've done?!"
Hermione sighed playfully. "No, but I assume we're going to find out in the coming year."
"I sure hope so," Ron said, leaning back down, eyes glued on the two.
"Okay," Sam began. "As promised, lessons on exorcism's. This will probably be the easiest part of your education this year, you just need to know what to say."
"Uh huh." Dean confirmed. "And we'll guide you through baby's first exorcism, don't you lot worry."
"Remember the star looking thing we made yesterday?" Sam asked. "Who remembers what it was called?"
Half the class raised their hands.
"You." Dean pointed at Ron.
"A devil's trap." The red head responded.
"Very good- Ron, right?" Sam said with a polite smile.
"Yessir!"
"Well Ronnie boy," Dean said, motioning for Ron to stand next to him. "It's your lucky day. You are the very first to perform an exorcism." He did sarcastic jazz hands with an assholish smile, a signature look from Dean.
A mix of fear an excitement revealed itself on Ron's face. "Okay," He agreed, standing very carefully next to Dean and Sam.
"So we'll get you something easy, maybe a weak black-eyed demon to start you off. We'll do the hard part- getting it in the circle- all you have to do is repeat after us." Sam assured, resting the uneasiness in Ron's belly.
"Be patient, we'll go summon this thing for you." Dean and Sam retreated to their table to grab a bowl when a flustered McGonagall burst into the room.
"Professors Dean and Sam." She said, out of breath. "Come quick. There's been in incident in the Gryffindor common room!"
Dean and Sam looked at each other.
"Just peachy. Show us the way," Dean said, trailing her as she rushed out. "Feel free to tag along, kiddos!" He called as he and Sam ran out.
Without a word, the class got up and followed, fear and anticipation biting at their heels.
When they arrived at the scene, more than a few girls shrieked at what they saw.
A girl, couldn't have been older than a second year, was laying lifeless and motionless on the floor. Her once vibrant cheeks were flushed and pale now, her lips a dark blue. A circle of ice surrounded her, making the room feel colder and bitter. Shards of glass were next to her, and a pool of what everyone hoped to be water next to her.
Another second year was next to her, sobbing in big racks, filling the empty noise in the room.
Sam leaned down to meet her eyes. "Can you tell me what happened?" He asked in a soft voice.
She took a deep breath of air. "W-w-well my friend and I were studying w-w-when she took a sip of her glass of water a-a-and she started choking and heaving and her skin was really cold and before I knew it, she was dead!" She burst into even more hearty sobs.
The class gasped. No one dare move a muscle. Hermione whisper-shrieked to Harry and Ron, "She froze to death!" She said, looking at her again. "Oh, she's so pale and lifeless!" Hermione was on the verge of tears now, looking away from it all.
Dean looked at Sam. "Find the you-know-what, so we know it's a you-know-what."
"Already on it," Sam responded, checking in the bookshelves and under the rug.
From no-where, a certain cat came creeping in, a brown bag bouncing in it's mouth.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione yelped, stepping forward to grab her cat.
She dropped the bag, going over to snuggle into Hermione's leg.
Dean picked up the bag, opening it up to reveal ice that seemed to not want to melt.
Sam looked over his shoulder and glanced knowingly at Dean.
"Well boys and girls," Dean announced solemnly. "It looks like we have a killer witch on our hands."