-Mine-( Harry Potter x Reader)

Chapter 15

"It's just something only we know baby, I can't help myself I'm seeing you everywhere I go, I don't dream of anyone else all I need is sweet relief"

                                                                    -Madison Beer-

                                                                     -Sweet Relief-

Y/n's POV

I stirred, blinking against the dim light of the Gryffindor common room. The warmth of the fire still licked the stone walls, but it didn't reach my chest, which was tight with the sleep-tinged anxiety that comes from being startled awake. I squinted through the shadows, half-asleep, listening.

Then—a loud crash, echoing through the empty common room—and a sharp, panicked shout. My heart jolted into overdrive.

"Harry..." I whispered, my voice shaking.

He was already sitting upright beside me, wand in hand, eyes wide and alert even in the low firelight. "I heard it," he said softly. "Something's wrong. Stay close to me."

I scrambled upright, still groggy, tugging my robe tighter around my shoulders. My feet were cold on the stone floor, hair sticking to my face from sleep. "What—what is it?" I whispered.

Harry shook his head, eyes scanning the shadows. "I don't know. But we need to check. Keep behind me."

Another loud bang—closer this time—made my stomach twist. My fingers dug into Harry's arm instinctively, and I realized I'd been holding my breath. "Oh no..." I murmured.

We crept toward the stairs, shadows stretching across the walls. The air was thick with a mix of sleeping castle dust and the faint chill that always seeped through the old stone. My pulse hammered as we descended, the echo of distant shouts and clattering noises growing louder with each step.

By the time we reached the bottom, the common room was already filling with students, some fully awake and terrified, others still groggy but panicking all the same. Wide-eyed first-years were huddled together near the couch, clutching blankets and robes. Older students were trying to calm them, but the air was tense, every little noise amplified by fear.

A voice rang out above the murmurs—a shrill, terrified cry. I froze, stomach twisting. My eyes darted toward the portrait on the wall, swinging violently. The panic in the voice made me realize—I didn't recognize it at first.

"What—?" I whispered.

Harry's grip on my hand tightened. "Stay close. I'll handle it."

The shouts became clearer, the clatter of furniture, the rustling of robes, all blending into chaos. Then, footsteps rang from above—the stairwell—heavy and purposeful.

"Everyone, stay calm!" came a clear, commanding voice. I froze as two figures appeared at the top of the stairs. Dumbledore, his robes flowing, beard glinting in the firelight, and McGonagall, crisp and stern, eyes sharp and commanding.

The room went still immediately, students instinctively looking toward the staff. Dumbledore's gaze swept over the students, calm but piercing. "No one is hurt," he said gently, yet with unmistakable authority. "But we must remain orderly. Now, let us understand what is happening."

The portrait shrieked again, feathers flaring, and the voice—still high-pitched and frantic—spilled out:

"It... it was... Sirius Black!"

Gasps erupted from every corner. My stomach dropped as the name hit me. I pressed against Harry, who was already scanning every shadow, wand ready. Sirius Black—dangerous, unpredictable, and now, frighteningly close.