Separated by Canvas

A Distant Song

Harry had gotten extremely lucky in all aspects of the 2nd triwizard tournament task. Just at the last second, he was saved by Dobby the house elf who had given him gillyweed. Then, he tried to save multiple people and went way over the allotted time. Either by Bagman's determination to help or a genuine display of bravery, he was awarded first place along with Cedric.
Even though he had won, he still felt like a fish out of water. After his adrenaline had gone, he began to feel somewhat ill and used this as an excuse to escape the crowd.
"I'm not feeling too great," he whispered to Ron. "I think I need to visit Madam Pomfrey."
This, surprisingly, was no lie. He indeed began to walk to the hospital tower. Upon arrival, he was ushered into dry clothes and laid to bed at once. He explained how he had eaten gillyweed for the tournament.
"DRY gillyweed?! From your pocket?" She was taken aback. "Honestly, what are they teaching you kids these days. Should've just made yourself a cup of gillywater," she scolded.
"I didn't even consider that. It was a bit of a last minute decision." Harry's cheeks flushed red with shame. He didn't dare mention the fact that it wasn't even his idea at all. I'm not surprised Dobby didn't even know about the side effects. Still, i'm grateful for his help.
"You should've at least brushed it off and gotten it wet before shoving in your mouth. Now we have to deal with all the side effects...water in your lungs...gill regrowth...over the time limit..." She rambled on for several minutes about the effects of salt water vs fresh water usage, but harry listened no longer.
     It wasn't until several hours later, in the dead of night, when harry awoke. The strange siren song haunted his dreams. He reached for a glass water she had left on his bedside table. Unfortunately, without his glasses he missed it by several inches and sent it flying over the edge. The glass hit the floor with a loud CLANK and he visually flinched.
     He didn't know a spell that would reverse his mistake, and still being very thirsty, he begrudgingly got up to fetch another glass; the closest tap would be several floors up. Glasses on face, wand and cup in hand, he set out.
     The trip up was nothing out of the ordinary. Although, he could've sworn he heard someone mumbling. Once he arrived, there was no one to be seen, not even moaning myrtle (he was very relieved at the latter). Once his glass was full, he reached to turn off the faucet and finally heard it. Singing.
     This alone should've been enough to frighten him, but it was the tune of it that shook him to his core. The sirens song. The same song that had been plaguing his dreams before he awoke.
     Harry almost fumbled the glass a second time trying to turn off the tap. Shaking while reaching for the lights, he timidly looked out into the hallway in search for the mysterious night-singer. But he found no one there.
     Stepping forward a bit to hear more, it sounded very distant. The closer he crept the farther it seemed. He almost started a brisk walk, but stopped himself as he was basked in darkness, trying to conceal himself and make as little noise as possible. The louder his steps, the more he feared he would scare them away.
     It was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. Soft, yet hard around the edges. Crisp and clear, yet somehow still blurred and alluring. Maybe it is a siren. They've evolved, came up from the water to smite me for cheating the last task, he thought jokingly.
     He found himself standing in front of the prefects bathroom once more. Maybe one of the older prefects had come in for a late night bath. No, they wouldn't risk breaking curfew like that. His suspicions were confirmed when he pressed his ear to the door and heard no increase in noise. It didn't seem to be coming from inside.
     Backtracking his steps, he slowly started towards the infamous hallway. As soon as he rounded the corner, the song ceased. Whoever it was, they had sensed him coming. He approached once more, just as he did before.
     He was greeted by no person waiting at the end, just the same stagnant painting. Only this time, it seemed different. Some of the items in the room were misplaced. Everything seemed messier, unkempt. A strong urge called out for him to touch it. The canvass felt cold and textured under his sweaty palm. This had garnered no reaction, and he ultimately decided to head back.
     Once he rounded the corner, however, an odd idea suddenly struck him. Hidden behind a stone column, he waited. A few minutes passed before a faint humming returned. Playing the long game, he waited for the humming to turn into words. The song.
     Mid-verse, Harry whipped himself around the corner, casting light via wand in the direction of the painting. Whatever he was searching for, he found it. A small blur of a figure dashed out of view and into the background of the painting.

A sign of life.

A girl.