"Ernie! Did you get it?" Hannah's voice was subtle as she and Susan approached the door to the boy's dormitory. The Hufflepuff quarters lacked hexes, slides, or other safe guards. The damn Puffs were so trustworthy that no one bothered with tricks. The idea was that they'd be polite enough to knock, which is exactly what the girls were doing.
There was a crack as Macmillan's nose peered from around the door. Realizing who had approached, he sighed with relief and opened the door to emerge fully clothed. "I was hoping it was you. Let's get out of here before they start rounding up the students."
Together, the trio exited the common room without so much as a lumos. They remained arm in arm, stepping daintily from refuge to hiding spot in an attempt to remain unseen. It would be a long trip to the 7th floor, but with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of friendship, perhaps they would have a chance.
Ginny had always lived beneath the shadow of 6 older brothers. Tonight, however, she was on her own. She'd noticed her galleon reflect luminously against the darkness of her dormitory and knew she'd had little time before the inevitable occurred and she'd lose her chance to escape. She prayed that Hermione and the others would find a way, but for the time being, she knew she'd have little chance to stop. She snuck past her sleeping roommates, wand armed and ready. The common room was empty, but the fire burned bright. Someone had been there not long before her.
With a quick glance back to make sure she was alone, she crawled through the portrait hole and headed toward the 7th floor.
"Did you hear that?" Hannah paused, sticking her neck around the latest cove they'd perched behind.
"It sounds like stomping." Susan observed, eyes searching for the source.
"It's a herd," Ernie whispered. "Of students. They must be gathering together. I wonder if they've noticed us missing."
Hannah nodded, checking around the corner once more. The sound was distant; they'd be okay for now. Suddenly, however, there was a closer noise, the pitter-patter of foot steps nearing their location. Hannah gasped, and the three turned abruptly as the sound was coming from behind.
"Shhh!" Approaching was none other than Ginny Weasley, a finger raised to her lips as she strained to make out the source of the distant clomping. Macmillan let out the breath he'd been holding, and Susan's shoulders relaxed visibly.
"Ginny, I'm so glad it's you." Hannah greeted steadily, and Ginny's lips quirked into a grin.
"Have you seen any of the others?"
The Puffs shook their heads, and Ginny's face fell. Hannah smiled softly, extending a hand to place it on the surface of her slumped shoulder.
"Im sure Luna's fine," she consoled, and Ginny flushed. Maybe they were a bit more obvious together than she'd intended. Or maybe Hannah just thought that they were really, really good friends. With the knowing, still kind expression on Hannah's face, however, she highly doubted that.
"Come on, guys. We don't have time to lose." And with that, Ginny led the way to the seventh floor.
"The stair case is going to shift any minute. Come on!" Ron whispered sharply to the others. Neville and Dean were trailing especially slow, trying to step in sync so as not to lose the cloak.
They were mid-way across the stretch of steps when their bridge-like path started to change, switching destinations without warning.
"Fuck!" Cried Seamus, who, like the others, lacked the knowledge of an alternate route to the Room of Requirement. When the staircase came to a halt on a deserted floor, the four hurriedly hopped on and glanced around, lost.
Ron's eyes stretched the scene before him, pouring in the intricacies of the castle as he combined details into a makeshift map within his psyche. Not far ahead was an opening in the wall which appeared to spiral upward. Ron pointed ahead and the others followed, taking off in a sprint toward the alternate route. As soon as they hopped hastily onto the first of many concrete steps, everything came to a sudden halt.
Ron turned to glance worriedly at Seamus, who he could barely make out beside him. Somehow, somewhere, someone had performed some very dark magic. The staircase had up until this moment been lit by an array of candles magically fixated to burn permanently along the walls. Suddenly, each and every one of them had burned out. Darkness consumed them.
Hermione had reached the top of her secret pathway, skipping steps that clicked against her Mary Jane's. This was it, the 7th floor, and one corridor over was the Room of Requirement. She slid her back warily against the cool stone wall, wand drawn and ready. Eyes glued forward, her breath was shaky and restless in her throat. She inched ahead, trailing down the corridor slowly. When the spelled candlelight flickered once, she froze. At once, she knew that the enemy was upon them. And still, she was alone.
"Lumos." Ron held his wand steady in front, leading the way up each step. Dean and Neville managed to fumble their way upwards without losing the cloak, and Seamus determinedly jogged his way. They must've been ascending several floors, and Ron wondered if he'd made a mistake in leading them here. But just as he was about to suggest they turn back, a weak yet audible whimper sounded from not much farther ahead. Ron's senses sharpened as he felt a shocked sensation trickle from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. Eyes widened, he stared forward through the darkness. His legs wouldn't move, though he knew he needed them to. His own voice ejected a weak whine as Seamus tugged his arm to continue: "Her-Hermione..."
Hermione let out a subtle gasp as the once flickering candle lights came to a sudden darkness. She inched her way along the wall, blind but determined. The Hall was utterly silent, the only sound that could be heard was the soft brush of her body against the wall.
She wasn't sure exactly why, but a creeping sensation found itself tucked deep within her gut. It seemed to spread outward, wrapping around each nerve in a tentacle-like fashion. She slowed her gait, cautiously trusting her instinct and keeping her wand pointed forward. Inch by inch, she crawled along the wall until she felt her stomach lurch. Something wasn't right. She could tell by the way the hairs on the back of her neck and posterior arms were standing. The only question was: what?
She was soon answered by the warmth of a hot, sticky breath infecting the space behind her ear. She froze, unable to move a centimeter with the unexpected company trailing her back.
"Don't. Move." The voice was a low growl, threatening in more ways than one. Hermione wasn't stupid; she knew that the being behind her was no average death eater.
"Werewolf." She proclaimed, but didn't dare move a muscle.
"That's right, sweetheart." She could tell by the ghoulish tone to his voice that he was smiling. His breath stank, and she gulped as a sudden fear took its hold on her. She wondered if he was going to kill her right then and there.
There was a pause, a moment of stillness that reeked of unbathed creature and anxiety. Hermione let out a yelp as she felt two strong, unforgiving hands grasp her shoulders and slam her against the wall she'd just been hugging. Her head throbbed from its sudden contact with the stone, and for a moment everything was blurry.
In the distance, she swore she saw a light. Perhaps she was hallucinating, feverish from the recent head injury. The far off glow was just enough to illuminate the roughened face before her.
"Fenrir Grayback," she stated through the pain. "I've seen you in the Daily Prophet."
Greyback paused, drawing in a whiff of Hermione before responding: "Mudblood. I can smell it."
He inclined his head, closing the distance between himself and her throat. "You're right, you know." He whispered against the hollow base of her neck. "I'm famous. And you're going to taste just fine." Hermione's breath quickened, chest heaving as she realized she had nowhere to turn to. Her wand was clutched tightly in her right hand, sandwiched between her body and the wall she was pinned against. She tried as a last attempt to focus, to do wordless magic, to no avail. She was trapped, and fear had consumed her.
"Stupefy!" Hermione snapped up at the familiarity of the voice behind Greyback. The light, it wasn't imaginary! It was real, ever so real. Hermione felt herself relax slightly.
Immediately, Greyback faltered, keeping one hand against Hermione but stumbling clumsily. Ron's face was horrified as the man, instead of tumbling backward or falling, straightened.
"Ron, he's a werewolf! It's going to take a lot of magic to stun him!" She cried, letting out a squeal as he tightened his grip.
"Why, you little..." Greyback removed himself from Hermione and began stamping in the direction of the redhead. Shocked, Hermione found herself frozen as she collected the scene before her.
"Ron!" She shrieked, but Greyback was already lifting his arm to swipe at the boy, who was backing up but not nearly fast enough. The next moment was another blur.
Somehow, in a sudden, swift movement, Fenrir Greyback had fallen face first onto the floor. He was immobilized, lying phenomenally still as a fearful Ron tried to gain his bearings. Hermione was only partially aware of the additional voices in the vicinity echoing softly in a combined spell. Out of the shadows stepped Seamus, followed by a wave of the air as Neville and Dean unveiled themselves from beneath the cloak.
Hermione gasped. "Guys! You did it! You just took on a bloody werewolf!" She hurriedly lurched forward, throwing her arms around Ron. His lips quirked into a satisfied smile, still coming to terms with what had happened but wrapping Hermione in his arms all the same. "We did, didn't we?" He muttered happily, and Hermione's hold on him tightened.
"Not to interrupt the moment or anything," piped Neville, "but shouldn't we find the others?" The remaining three all had their wands lit, illuminating the corridor subtly.
Hermione blushed with a wry smile and separated herself. "Come on," she led, grasping Ron's hand and pulling him with her. "They've got to be nearby."
