Bella and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter Seven

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. 

Since I was nearest the door, I got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told us that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and we were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" Ron asked from somewhere behind me

"Ouch!" Hermione gasped. "Ron, that was my foot!"

I felt my way back to my seat. 

"D'you think we've broken down?" Harry asked. 

"I have no clue," I answered him.

There was a squeaking song, and I saw the dim black outline of Ron wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out. 

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over my legs. 

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry-"

"Hi, Neville," I said, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Bella? Is that you? What's happening?" 

"No idea! Sit down-"

There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," Hermione said. I felt her pass me, heard the door slide open again and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain. 

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

WHAT IS THE SHE-DEVIL DOING HERE?

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron-"

"Come in and sit down-"

"Not here!" I said hurriedly. "I'm sat here, you doofus!"

Harry laughed.

"Ouch!" Neville said.

"Quiet!" A new, hoarse voice said suddenly.

Professor Lupin had appeared to have woken up at last. I could hear movements in his corner. None of us spoke. 

There was a soft, crackling noise and a shivering light filled the compartment. Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired grey face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said, in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him. But the door slid slowly open before he could reach it.

What. The. Heck. Was. That?

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. My eyes darted downwards, and what I saw made my stomach contract. There was hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grey-ish, slimy-looking and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water.

It was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed my gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of the black material.