Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created sorely to satisfy my imagination. Harry Potter and anything/everything related to the novels belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing in this fanfic that might be recognizable as belonging to the canon of HP.
Chapter 3: To the castle
The spell of the moon was gone, and I was shivering uncontrollably way before I reached the castle.
I had not lived there long, only a couple of months, but I knew the grounds very well. It was something that came instinctively, like breathing or blinking. The paths, from the edge of the platform, to the end of the forest; I knew it all like the back of my hand. Somehow I knew it. Somehow, without exploring or a good look in a map, I knew my way around. That very night was proof of it. Not once, had I been into the Forbidden Forest and through all the strolling and running around I still could find my way back.
I tried not to think of the pack of animals that I had met as the way to my bed became shorter with every step. Strange things tended to happen to me during the full moon ever since I arrived at Hogwarts, and it was better if I didn't dwell on it when I couldn't do anything to ease my thoughts. Thinking of the werewolf and its pack of stray animals deserved an extensive search in the library, a place that was to be closed for at least an hour more.
Pushing my drunken night away before I started to mentally list all the questions I could muster about it, I strode right into the castle.
The hallways lessened my pain. They were incrusted with ancient spells and hexes; surely one of them was for heating for it was doing wonders on my body.
At a bend, I stopped to listen.
I really needed to not get caught. The caretaker and Peeves were my main concern, as I peeked into the next hallway. Both of them were a pain, and I had no desire whatsoever to have to march up to Dumbledore to explain what I was doing. Filch always did that. He had the sick pleasure of giving detention to any and every student he found that broke the rules, but to me he was different. He always took me to see the Headmaster and that felt worst.
I rather take punishment than have to explain myself to those twinkling eyes.
How could I even begin to explain to him or anyone, really, what had happened in the forest?
Hell, how could I explain what had gotten into me? That drunken haze that willed me out of bed was certainly something not common. And the strangeness of it would send Dumbledore off in an array of questions that I wouldn't want to even think off, and I would end up in St. Mungo's again for a further study.
No, I would not have any of that.
Not again.
And obviously not since so little time had passed since my last visit.
After carefully treating a couple of hallways, I went down a flight of stairs. Down in the dungeons, the hallway was dark, unperturbed by the dying beams of the moon. The only light I could rely on was the one by the portrait door, its flickering calming my spirit somewhat. Almost there, and I could take a hot shower to begin my day like a normal person, and not like some sprite creature of the night.
"You're late." The man in the portrait said, eyeing me critically as I reached him. I knew how I looked and I remembered how he had called me out when I left earlier in the night. My heart warmed at the thought of him being worried about me, but I didn't want to talk to him either. In a way, he was to me like Dumbledore.
"Spectrum summa." The password was the first words I had spoken all night, and the sound of my voice seemed alien to me. Was that really how I always sounded?
The portrait did not move.
There was silence in the hallway, and all the warmth I felt came from the lonely torch to the side. "Was it the full moon that got you up and about?"
I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. I really did hate how knowledgeable he was sometimes. Though, it really shouldn't be a surprised to anyone. "I really don't want to talk about it. Spectrum summa."
"It is of importance that you fight your urges. Your mind is in precarious state and it does not serve you to stray from what is good for you."
"Not now, really." Once more, I uttered the password.
Again, the frame did not move, but the man in the painting did, pressing on. "Child, you should seek an audience with Headmaster Dumbledore. It would be best."
I suppressed the urged to sigh again. There was nothing I hated more than when he went into his mentor to student mode. "I'm not in the mood for your advice, grandfather." I glared up at him, exhausting myself with it. "Just let me through."
"Mor—" He began and I suddenly couldn't even try to deal with him anymore.
"Let me in!"
The portrait swung opened, and before I regretted my hostility toward the man in the painting, I went in.
...