Star-Crossed

Chapter Fifteen: Three-Headed Watchdog

The very same day, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were walking back to the common room together. The four of us were walking up one of the grand staircases toward the tower. Harry, Ron and I were walking together in a little huddle while Hermione trailed behind us.

Ron was leaning in and muttering to the two of us, "I'm tellin' you. It's spooky. She knows more about you than you do."

Harry shrugged as I replied simply, "Who here doesn't?"

Suddenly, the staircase's railing pulled in with a thunk, Hermione glanced at it but kept walking without another look. Until the entire staircase shuddered and began to move. All four of us gasped and grasped the rails.

Ron shouted in fright as the staircase began to swing away from its original track. I gasped as my stomach flipped nervously and clung to the side of the staircase. My brother was holding on beside me, both to me out of protective instinct and to the railing out of fear, his knuckles were almost white with how tightly he was holding on. Hermione gasped as she nearly slipped, but she readjusted her grip and kept holding on.

"What's happening?" My brother asked, his voice quaking just slightly.

I glanced up at him with a grimace, "The staircases change, remember?"

Then the stairs jerked to a stop, to my absolute relief. A corridor loomed up ahead, seeming just a tad bit foreboding as the lamp light glinted ominously over the walls. No portraits were on them as they had been on other corridors, strangely.

Part of me was screaming to turn around and walk the other way, but some other voice among my instincts whispered, urging me to take this route instead.

I tapped Harry and Ron and voiced the idea, deciding to trust this strange voice in the back of my head, "Hey, let's go this way, hm?"

"Yeah," Ron was quick to agree, "Before the bloody staircase decides to take us on another spontaneous field trip."

We jogged up the stairs as quickly as we could, Hermione scampering after us without so much as a whisper of disagreement. Instead of an open hallway along the corridor, the only direction it presented was a spooky looking, iron-laden old door. Another feeling told me to open the door and I gripped the handle and twisted it open without much of another thought.

The remainder of the corridor was completely deserted and rather uncomfortable feeling. Harry and I glanced at each other, each of us confirming we'd had the very same thought at the exact same time.

"Does anyone else feel like we shouldn't be here?" Harry mused as my shoulders tensed and Hermione sighed aloud.

"We're not supposed to be here. This is the third floor, it's forbidden." She explained, crossing her arms.

The four of us walked inside, however, Hermione lagged behind for a moment, obviously having mixed feelings about the entire ordeal. I was feeling a similar way, part of me was absolutely begging to run out and back down the staircase, but the other was telling me, the stairs wouldn't have led us here if there wasn't something we were meant to see. Or at least, maybe only Harry and I were meant to be here, that's why I felt so unsure was because Ron and Hermione had been mistakenly strung along.

Out of the blue, the flame lit on the top of one of the stone supports in the hall. At that very moment as well, Filch's cat, Mrs Norris came running in through the doorway and meowed loudly, echoing along the empty corridor.

The four of us jumped, nearly scared out of our skin.

"We should go..." I finally decided, overruling the little voice urging me to keep walking through the corridor.