In Ink and Inheritance (Book 1)

Chapter 25 - The Absence of Her

Oliver Wood's POV

The first sign that something was wrong came at dinner.

Harriet wasn't there.

Neither were Ron or Hermione.

I waited - ten minutes, then fifteen - watching the doors like a hawk. No sign of them. And when I asked one of the first-years if they'd seen Harriet in the library or coming from Charms, they just shrugged and said she left the common room with Weasley and Granger before curfew.

That wasn't like her.

Not anymore.

Not with Sirius Black still at large and every professor on high alert.

I was halfway to the tower when I ran into Angelina. "Wood, where are you-?"

"Have you seen Harriet?"

She shook her head. "Not since class. You okay?"

No. Not even close.

I turned and headed straight for McGonagall's office.

-

She didn't answer at first when I knocked.

So I opened the door anyway.

She looked up from a stack of parchments, her expression sharp. "Mr. Wood, this is highly-"

"Harriet's gone."

Her brows rose. "Gone?"

"She's not in the common room. Not at dinner. Not in the library. No one's seen her or the others in hours."

McGonagall stood so fast her chair scraped the floor. "Are you absolutely certain?"

"I wouldn't be here otherwise."

She swept toward the fireplace and grabbed a small vial of emerald powder. "We'll alert the staff."

"No," I said, voice rough. "I'm coming too."

She gave me a look - that crisp, authoritative glare that normally turned full-grown Aurors into quivering second-years.

I didn't back down.

"She's mine to protect," I said quietly.

McGonagall studied me. Not just my words. My resolve.

Then she nodded.

"Follow me."

-

The castle was chaos within fifteen minutes.

Professors fanned out across the grounds. Filch muttered about secret passages. Flitwick summoned every known map of Hogwarts. But I didn't wait.

I knew where she'd gone.

The Grim.

Harriet had mentioned it once - just offhand. A black dog. Bigger than a wolf. Something she kept seeing. She hadn't called it an omen, but I'd heard the fear in her voice.

And now Weasley's rat had mysteriously come back to life, and she was missing, and all I could see in my head was that bloody dog dragging her somewhere dark.

I ran.

Down the slopes. Across the grounds. Toward the Whomping Willow.

That's when I saw it.

The tree was still.

Unmoving.

A cat - Crookshanks - sat at its base, tail twitching, eyes locked on something I couldn't see.

There was a hollow space near the roots.

And a tunnel.

"Harriet," I breathed.

Then I dropped to my knees and crawled into the dark after her.