𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 | h. potter²

Chapter 10: The Writings on the Wall

▂▃▄▅▆▇█▓▒░ Harry's POV ░▒▓█▇▆▅▄▃▂

I let out an exasperated sigh whilst rolling me eyes on what Ron said. "Really, Ron? Our friend is missing and you're here thinking about foods? Besides, I doubt that we'll make it on time, we probably missed the Halloween feast."

"Harry, Lucy is not technically missing," Hermione interjected. "She might be in the Common room right now waiting for us, and if not, perhaps in her dorm, asleep already."

Before I could argue, I heard it again. The same voice, the same cold, raspy, murderous voice I had heard in Lockhart's office.

". . . rip . . . tear . . . kill . . ."

I stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all my might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Harry, what're you - ?"

"It's that voice again - shut up for a minute -" I ordered shakily, adrenaline started to flow through my system.

". . . soo hungry . . . for so long . . ."

"Listen!" I said urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching me worriedly.

". . . kill . . . time to kill . . ."

The voice was growing fainter. I was sure it was moving away - moving upward. I stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward?

"This way," I shouted, and I began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. I sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind me.

"Harry, what're we -"

"SHH!"

I strained my ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, I heard the voice: ". . . I smell blood. . . . I SMELL BLOOD!"

My stomach lurched. Could it be, no...

"It's going to kill someone!" I shouted, ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces, I ran up the next flight of steps three at a time. I hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind me, not stopping until we turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything. . . ."

They must have thought I'm insane. But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

"Look!" A figure with a black robe was sprawled on the floor as if she's sleeping, her chocolate brown hair spread untidily on her face so we can't recognize who it is.

We slowly approached the body, then kneel on her side. I reached out my hand to gently

swatted the hair away from her face, and gave a horrified gasp when I saw who it is.

"Lucy! Lucy!" I frantically shook her, her head slightly rolling on her sides. This is so confusing, she was with us earlier at the Deathday Party, then she left without saying goodbye, and now she's here unconscious in the dark corridor, not to mention alone.

Lucy thankfully woke up with a start, her eyes frighteningly scanning the room and breathing heavily. She froze and her eyes widened staring at something behind us.

Confused, we cautiously turn around to see foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. And it was written using Blood.