The Anti-Heroine || A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIII:

Hermione's POV:

October arrived without any reappearances of the mysterious snake's voice and it was spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. It rained for days on end, the lake froze, the flowerbeds turned into muddy streams and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Students were wandering around smoking at the ears from consuming Madam Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potions and Hermione found great amusement in Harry's annoyance about the fact that Marcus Flint still held regular training sessions, come wind, rain, storms and snow.

By the time October 31st arrived, the rest of the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in and there were rumours that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for entertainment.

At seven o'clock, she and Harry made their way down to the packed Great Hall which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, Iago draped over her shoulders as the tomcat usually was during mealtimes– he enjoyed the food at Hogwarts even more then she did. Hermione had asked Harry if he really wanted to attend a celebratory feast that was held on what also happened to be the day his parents had died and Harry had said he did, looking stubborn as all hell, so she had dropped the subject and hadn't asked him again.

The feast turned out to be everything it had promised to be but Hermione struggled to enjoy herself as she watched Harry's expression grow more and more morose. They'd only been there about an hour before she decided that enough was enough.

"Let's go." She told him and Harry gave her a weak smile.

"Remember that time when you thanked me for knowing what you needed, even though you told me that you were too stubborn to admit it yourself?"

"I do," she said as they stood up and made their way towards the exit.

"Thank you for knowing what I needed even though I said I didn't, Hermione." Harry whispered to her. She just reached out to clasp onto his hand, tangling their fingers together and squeezing gently. 

They were in the entrance hall and heading in the direction of the dungeons when they heard it. ::...Rip... tear...kill...:: It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice, the voice of the 'fucking huge snake'.

"Which direction is it coming from?" Harry asked, looking a bit pale.

::...kill... time to kill...::

"Upward– it's moving upward." She said, after a moment.  

"Come on," Harry urged, "let's find it." They took off, sprinting up the marble staircase to the first floor. Hermione strained her ears– distantly, from the floor above and growing fainter still, she could still hear the voice.

::...I smell blood... I SMELL BLOOD!::

"I think it's going to kill someone!" Harry said, giving her an alarmed look. Hermione's lips tightened into a thin line, not keen on the idea of running into danger, but she let Harry drag her up the next flight of stairs, taking the steps three at a time. She tried to listen over the sound of their footsteps as they hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Harry not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Look!" He gasped, pointing down the corridor.

Something was shining on the wall ahead. They both approached it cautiously, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.