Daughter of Black

3.13

We stood there for a few more seconds before Ron flinched, dropping Scabbers. The rat ran away quickly as a tiny bit of blood dripped from Ron's finger. Ron stares at his finger shocked. "He bit me..." Ron looks around and when he finally sees the rat, he chases after it. "Scabbers." I shake my head as I follow after him.

"Ron, stop!" I shouted after him, but he didn't listen. We all chased after Ron, shaking our heads. We weren't supposed to still be out; we needed to get back inside. But we chased Ron down the side of the hill as he chased his stupid rat. We chased him and shockingly, Ron was faster than I thought. We chased them all the way to the Weeping Willow tree. I see Ron jump on top of his rat, holding it close to his chest as he picks it up.

"Harry. You do realize what tree this is..." Hermione said, looking wearily over the tree.

"That's not good. Ron, run!" Harry shouted back at Ron. I turned my heads towards Harry, confused. But instead of Ron running, his face goes white as he points to something behind us.

"Harry, Hermione, Mira, run!" We turn around and behind us is a large black dog. At first I was fine, because why be afraid of a dog? But then the dog started growling and it bared its teeth at us, running towards us at full speed. My eyes go wide and I duck slightly, but the dog jumps over us, going straight for Ron. Ron screams as the dog takes Ron's leg, dragging him towards the tree. Harry jumps, trying to grab Ron's arm but he misses and the dog drags Ron into a hole in the tree.

Harry stands, not sure of what to do next, when the weeping willow's branches start flailing all over the place, knocking the three of us back. I groan as I get up, trying to run towards the gap in the tree. A branch swoops down. Hermione ducks. I duck. Harry doesn't. He us flung back. I jump as another branch comes towards me but this time Hermione misses and is swept into the air. I hear her scream as Harry stands up, ducking just in time for the branch with Hermione on it to pass over him. I look up at Harry, seeing he doesn't have his glasses on. I rush towards him, picking them up off the ground and handing it to him as Hermione and her branch come swinging back. Hermione grabs Harry by the shirt. She only holds onto him for a moment before throwing him into the dark whole in the tree, after Ron. Seconds later, Hermione follows after him. Sighing, I run through the branches, and slide down the hole. Both of them are sitting there, Hermione on top of Harry's back. I laugh as I walk up to them, watching my head. I help them both up as we look down the dark path. "Where do you suppose this goes?" Hermione asks, gripping onto Harry's shirt.

"I have a hunch." Harry says as we start to walk forward. "I just hope I'm wrong." I furrow my eyebrows as I follow after them, not really sure what he is talking about. There's a set of stairs in front of us and once again, I furrow my eyebrows. Stairs... inside a tree...? Because, that makes sense. At the top of the stairs, there's a small opening. Harry lifts himself up, pulling Hermione up after him. Since I'm a little taller than them, I get up more easily, Harry only grabbing my arm when I'm almost all the way through.

    The room is dark and there is barely any light coming through. I haven't the slightest idea where we are. "We're in the Shrieking Shack, aren't we?" Hermione asks and my head turns towards her. The Shrieking Shack was supposedly haunted. Harry doesn't answer, just ushering up to follow him as we walk up another set of stairs. When we're almost to the top, we can hear Ron moaning and groaning and suddenly we walk a little faster. At the top, one of the bedroom doors is open and Ron is sitting on a love-seat, clutching that stupid rat to his chest. "Ron, you're ok!" Hermione says as we rush towards him.

"The dog. Where is it?" Harry asks but Ron's face looks absolutely terrified.

"It's a trap. He's the dog. He's an Animagus..." Harry and Hermione look down, following the paw prints on the floor as the prints turn to human feet. Ron points at something behind us and I'm scared to see what, or who, it is. My mouth drops as I stare at the man in front of us. I barely even recognised him. He shut the door, staring back at us. He was half in the shadows, half out. His hair was greasy, almost as greasy as Snape's, and matted down. His skin looked like a corpse.