Secrets Only Trouble Knows - George Weasley

17 - Written in the Stars

Nighttime eventually rolled around and, when it did, the three boys and I said goodbye to our friends in the common room who'd been nice enough to stay up with us until it was time to leave for our detention. Then we dragged our feet down the ever-changing stone staircases and met with Mr. Filch, who was waiting for us with Draco Malfoy, in the entrance hall. He was to be escorting us to wherever we'd be serving our time tonight. From there, we followed reluctantly after the caretaker as he strangely led us out of the castle and onto the grounds.

Seeing as I had figured we'd be writing lines or cleaning classrooms like I'd heard usual detentions tend to involve, I grew more and more anxious about what to expect the farther our group got from the school. I hadn't anticipated doing anything outside, nor could I even think of what kind of outdoor work laid ahead of us. I thought at first we might be doing something in the greenhouses, or tidying up the Quidditch shed, but I quickly ruled out both of those options when I noticed us moving in an entirely different direction than either.

Malfoy, who was walking behind myself and George, of course quickly noticed my stiff back.

"You look tense, Pierce," he announced, clearly satisfied. "Not afraid, are you?"

"Piss off," I answered tiredly. "Just confused, is all. Don't know what we could possibly be doing out here."

"Right, of course," he offered, chuckling, but I could tell he was still arrogantly doubtful of my reply, assuming I was in fact scared of what was to come.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," George butt in. "And for all our sakes, shut up while you're at it, too. Your voice is absolutely horrid to listen to."

Malfoy scoffed, clearly offended, but I let an amused smile slip. George saw it and returned one. Thankfully, the younger boy listened to him and the conversation ended there.

All that filled the air now was Filch's disgruntled grumbling. He'd been doing it since we began walking, but it was only just now that it got louder and I could really hear what he was saying.

"A pity they let the old punishments die out..." he muttered. "If it were up to me tonight, I'd hang you ungrateful lot by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days like they used to... I've got the chains still in my office... Keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed again..."

That certainly didn't make me feel any better in the moment. Gulping, and resentfully continuing on, I lowered my head and began picking at the skin around my fingernails.

"Hey," George whispered from beside me, clearly having noted my nervous habit. "It's alright, Pierce. I'm sure whatever he's got in store for us isn't all that bad. He's just trying to scare us."

I nodded, attempting to give a reassuring smile. But I wasn't sure how believable it was.

We kept following Filch across the dark grounds, the cool night air causing chills to raise along our skin. Then, a few minutes later, the sound of Rubues Hagrid's voice rang out. I perked up, immediately overcome with a feeling of relief. We weren't serving a detention with Filch tonight, like I'd assumed. Hagrid was here, and if he was involved, it couldn't be that terrible.

Filch must have caught onto all of our joy about this.

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourselves with that oaf?" he snarled. "Well, think again— it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

Mine and George's eyes widened with surprise. Neville let out a moan.

"Seriously?" Harry gaped.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks behind us, stunned.

"The Forbidden Forest?" he repeated, bewildered. "We can't go in there at night! There's all sorts of things in there. Werewolves, I heard!"