'Potter!'
Harry jumped and felt his chair sway. He hastily grabbed the desk in reflex to stop himself tipping back.
The dark, narrow, beady eyes of Professor Snape were watching him with distaste.
'Do you find this lesson… tedious?'
'No sir.' Harry stifled a yawn. Why hasn't he been able to sleep properly lately?
Snape glided across the room until he was looming over Harry, like a greasy hawk ready to swoop down on his prey. His gaunt face looked down, unforgiving.
'If I find you snoozing off in my lesson again, Potter, I will have you in my office every night this week until curfew writing about the Hippocampus and how to tame one. Do I make myself clear?'
It's not like I can go outside instead, thought Harry with resentment.He was finding Snape's condescending tone more insufferable than usual lately. His very presence was enough to make his blood boil. To avoid any unwanted confrontation, Harry just nodded obediently.
'Yes sir.'
'As a result of today's insolence, I will demand an essay on the biology of a Hippocampus by Monday.' A dark smirked was smeared across Snape's pale face. 'Be thankful I'm feeling generous today, Potter.'
At long last, the lesson ended. Usually a big fan of Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry thought that it seemed to have lost its allure since Snape became the teacher. Once again, Harry yawned.
The three were walking down an ancient corridor towards the Griffindor common room, cheerily chatting about the first week back as sixth years.
'That Slughorn character's completely barmy,' exclaimed Ron dramatically as they turned a sharp corner passing shifting suits of armour. 'Have to admit, better teacher than old Snape, but he doesn't even glance at me! I can tell I won't be a favourite this year unlike you two.' His fade drooped in self pity.
'Oh, stop it Ron!' snapped Hermione, 'Teacher's don't have favourites, it's unprofessional. Just because you struggled in that first lesson, doesn't mean you can make judgements!'
Ron smirked, 'Coming from the Teacher's Pet of the century...'
In a flash, Hermione reached over past Harry unexpectedly to whack Ron painfully on the arm.
'Gawd Hermione,' said Ron through gritted teeth, 'have you ever heard of a joke!' He rubbed his arm, continuing to mutter to himself. She ignored his mumbled curses, and turned to Harry who was silently listening to the banter with amusement.
'And what about you Mr Sleepy Head?'
'Not now, Hermione,' Harry groaned. He wasn't up for another one of her mothering lectures. He had endured one every day this week.
'Don't "not now, Hermione" me! It's only been 5 days! You'll never pass the end of term exams at this rate and I'm not taking notes for you again!'
Ron looked slightly wounded at this comment. 'You never took notes for me when I slept in class!'
In comparison, Hermione seemed exasperated. 'That's because it's unlike Harry to sleep in class!'
Ron's ears quickly turned red in embarrassment and he swiftly glanced away to observe a small crowd of attractive fifth year girls. Hermione 'hmphed' and turned the opposite way looking steamed. The three continued to walk along the tightening corridor.
Harry subtly breathed a sigh of relief for the change of subject. His attention span had been wavering lately, he couldn't deny it. He had been meaning to speak to Dumbledore about that unsettling letter privately, but there had been no sign of the finely-dressed elderly man anywhere. Rumour was that he hadn't even left his office. This disconcerted Harry even more…
As they walked past the entrance to the library, Harry was painstakingly reminded of Snape's seven page essay. However, as much as Harry felt guilty, this was a chance to get away from his friends and be alone with his thoughts for a while.
'Urgh, guys, I'll have to meet you there. I've got to start on that damned essay.' He hinted to the library.
Hermione folded her arms and nodded in accord, peering at Harry in a 'well done for taking responsibility' way. Ron just slapped Harry on the back fondly. 'Alright mate, don't stay here too late. Don't want you 'boffing' it up and ending up like poor old Hermione.' He shook his head in sympathy towards her, who was looking like she was going to explode in rage.
Harry laughed, 'I'll make sure, thanks Ron.'
The library was completely empty of students apart from a third year couple snogging behind a book called 'Warlocks and Wonders.' Madam Pince came scuttling around the corner promptly to 'shoo' them off. The pair ran off, giggling childishly.
Harry strolled along the dusty isles until he came to 'The Bestiary' section. He walked along towards 'H'.
Hags, Herbridean Blacks, Hellhounds, Hinkypunks… Hippocampi.
Pulling out a book named 'Heroes of the Hippocampus' by Marcus Felindini, he sat down glumly and started jotting down notes on some rough parchment. He'd do the main essay over the weekend when everyone fancied going to the grounds, and he'd be the unwilling hermit again. He hadn't told his friends about Dumbledore's demand or the undeniable danger to Hogwarts, as he did not want to anyone else to feel this heavy dread he was feeling. Instead, he just found excuses not to go outside, some more believable than others.
Harry stretched away his aching hunch in his back and looked out the shadowy arched window next to him. There was no moon tonight, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest stood sinisterly against the darkening sky. The night was almost calm and gentle, but it was night nonetheless. Harry decided enough was enough and to head back to the dorm.
As he packed away his quill and parchment, he heard a minor rattle. He promptly turned his head towards the window. The night was as still and uneventful as it had been. That was strange, he was sure he heard something. He brushed it off as he swung his weighty book-filled bag over his back. He started to walk towards the door in the dimly lit room.
Another rattle. This time, it was louder. Harry froze. He was definitely sure there was something at the window. He listened intently but didn't dare turn around.
Tap, tap, tap.
He frowned, and stepped back steadily, turning his heel in preparation. He gathered his courage and turned his head to still see nothing there, not even the excuse of branches near the glass. As cliché as it was, it could just be the wind. Harry sniggered at his paranoia. Complete pillock he was being.
Just then, something made Harry double take. He had to squint to see. What was that? Guided by his curiosity, he found himself walking slowly towards the grimy, neglected window. He stopped a few feet away, feeling a slight shudder of anticipation. Leaning forward, and holding his breath, he stared outside.
Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
His heart was pounding in fear. He felt a trickle of sweat down his flushing face. He felt the presence of something beastly, right there... right above him… He clenched his fists, feeling his sweaty palms slipping. He shakily lifted his head, and sure enough, disturbing yellow gazed back at him. They were monstrous and lustful, with dark slits within the centre. In complete shock and terror, Harry could not move nor gasp. He could not avert his eyes.
Eventually, he found the strength in his legs to shakily step back. As he gradually moved away, the more of the 'thing' was revealed. It was hanging upside down in deformity watching Harry in amusement. A slender figure in a stained pink cloak, it seemed female, and almost beautifully human. Above the neck… the beauty halted. A mouth of razor sharp bloody teeth growing ear to ear smiled psychotically at the terrified young wizard before it…
Without thinking or considering to defend himself, Harry ran, and didn't look back…