Separated by Canvas

Long, Cold Nights

     Success. Harry thought to himself, smiling. But if there is someone in it, why are they running away?
     "It's okay. You don't have to hide." He tried using a calming voice to coax her out. "I've already seen you, y'anno."
     But the portrait did not answer. The only sound was the distant chime of three bells signaling the 3 o'clock hour.
     "Fine. I can wait. I'll be here if you wish to show yourself," and with a huff he sat on the cool tile. Sipping on the rest of his glass soon turned into scratching patterns on the floor, which much later turned into a light snore as he finally rested once again.
     He awoke with a start, hearing the hustle of someone very close by. His instinct was to turn and look at the painting, but it still remained lifeless as it was the previous night. His attention was soon drawn toward someone walking  down the hall. Percy Weasley.
     "Percy!" Harry jolted up, waving to try and catch his attention, to no avail. After a few slight seconds, he jogged to try and catch up.
      "Merlin's beard! Harry, you scared me. Where did u come from?" said Percy with a sigh.
     "Thank goodness, I caught up to you. Did you not hear me calling for you?" Harry was out of breath from cardio so early after waking. I'm a wizard, not an athlete.
     "No, and i'll repeat again, where did you come from? The only thing up here is the prefects bathroom and I don't want to have to write up a fellow Gryffindor for breaking house rules, but if I found out someone gave you the password and you've been using-"
     "Sorry, I've got an important question. What do you know about the painting down the end of this hall?" He had cut him off and pointed in the direction of the hallway.
     "What? Where are you pointing?"
     "Wha'dya mean it's right-" he cut himself off this time, for when he turned to look back at where he had came, he was met with nothing short of a stone brick wall matching all the others. No way.
     "Seriously, Harry. Are you sure you're feeling well? You're still in your PJs..."
     "Yes, i'm fine, but i could've sworn-"
     "Hey, it's okay. I'm sure that last task must've been really hard on you. Go down and see Madam Pomfrey, i'll inform your teachers of your absence." Percy used a very condescending tone, very grateful to finally be using his authority for once.
      "Yeah, you're right. Thanks for looking out for me. You're the best prefect ever." He was hoping Percy wouldn't notice how hard he was trying. Anything to make him go away. Please.
     It seemed to work, because the next moment Percy had turned on his heels, cloak whipping around him, a slight pep in his step now. Harry watched him walk out of sight and waited a few minutes longer just to be sure he was nowhere nearby.
     After assessing the coast to be clear, he turned around to inspect the appearing wall. When he had pivoted, however, he was not met with the same stone wall extending from the bathroom, but yet the same hallway as before. Nothing had changed. His glasses and cup sat strewn on the floor, just as he had left them in a hurry to catch Percy.
     He tried to ration this, but it simply didn't make sense. Reaching the corridor opening, he carefully extended his hand past the threshold, afraid he would be met by yet another wall. He flinched, but his fingers were neither cut off, nor stopped by an invisible force. It was a regular hallway. A regular hallway that chooses when to open. Or maybe it only appears randomly.
     He refused to admit it, but he would have to begrudgingly inform his friends of his late night adventures. It would be hard explaining sleeping on the ground, but he hadn't remembered anything from Fred and George about a mysterious hallway. Probably because it doesn't lead anywhere; they can't use it to sneak off.
     While it had been rather uneventful, he decided he would wait until dinner to ask his friends to help his research in the library. Maybe Hermione's infamous Hogwarts: A History book would have something about it.
      Mind made up, he was off, thoughts racing with possible theories.