The Teacher's Son

Chapter 14

Harry was bored out of his mind. He had been helping Lockhart write back to his fanmail for hours.

It was literally the same thing over and over and over.

First came the letter.

'Dear Gilderoy Lockhart,

You beautiful man, I wish you would do house calls! I have the most horrible bogart in my bedroom closet! I haven't been able to get to my clothing for weeks! I sincerely hope you'll show up before I run out of shirts! (But if you came after I wouldn't object!)

Your number one fan,

Lauren'

Then he would write the by the book answer.

'I regret to inform you, dear Lauren, that I am unable to make such a house call as I receive many requests for this. If you wish to be put on the waiting list, it will take a while, but I may be able to get there. I am sincerely concerned for you and your problem and hope you get it sorted out.

Sincerely,

Gilderoy Lockhart'

Harry stifled a yawn, dipping his quill into the obnoxious teal ink that Lockhart had provided and preparing to start another letter response.

'My dearest Annabelle,

I regret to inform you'

He set his quill down suddenly as a deep, hissing voice echoed through the room.

"Let me rip you....tear you...." The voice was menacing and dangerous sounding.

"Who's there?" I asked.

"What?" Lockhart looked up, frowning.

"Professor, did you hear that?"

"Hear what, my dear boy?"

"That voice!" Harry scanned the room frantically, wondering who had spoken and why they had sounded so dangerous.

"I assure you, my dear boy, there was no voice! You must be getting a little drowsy." Lockhart insisted. He looked at his clock. "Good heavens, no wonder we're so sleepy! It's been almost two hours! Well, my boy, it is definitely time for you to go back to the common room. Have a good night!"

Harry stood, still confused, as the professor waved his wand, clearing the utensils and the letters from his desk.

"Go on, run along." Lockhart smiled at him.

Harry dubiously turned and left the room. His brain was racing.

Should I tell Mum?

No, I was just hearing things.

But what if I wasn't?

I had to have been. Lockhart didn't hear it.

Harry scowled at himself. It was nothing, I'm just overtired and imagined it.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Harry heard the voice again.

"Rip....tear....kill...." It was off to his left, down a hallway. Harry ran towards where he could hear it coming from. He pressed his ear to the wall and listened.

Something huge was moving on the other side. He could hear it. And it was still whispering, "Rip...tear....kill..."

The voice slowly faded, along with the sounds of movement, and Harry shuddered. What was that thing?

"What are you doing?" He whirled to face Filch.

"I was in detention and I was on my way back to the dormitories when I thought I heard something." Harry decided that a half truth was his best bet at getting out of this.

The old caretaker's scowl, which was directed towards him, deepened. Or so Harry thought. Then again, it was hard to tell, since that seemed to be his permanent expression.

"Well, get going. If you're out here still after it's bed time I ain't gonna hesitate to give you another detention."

Harry nodded and ran off in the direction of the dorms.

He slowed to a walk once he was out of Filch's line of sight. Was he going crazy? He had heard the voice twice. And the first time, Lockhart hadn't heard it.

He's lucky, Harry thought, shivering again at the thought of the malicious hiss that had echoed in his ears.

He walked up to the Fat Lady and absentmindedly gave her the password. She swung open and he walked into the common room.

"Hey, mate. Done with detention?" Ron asked from the couch.

"Yeah." Harry muttered.

"What happened?" Hermione frowned at him. "You look pale."

"Just not feeling great. Lockhart made me answer his fanmail and it made my head hurt. I didn't know so many women could like one man."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Well he's a very smart man! He knows so much, he's practically an entrepreneur, figuring out ways to fight off all those creatures!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling.

Out of her line of sight, Ron stuck his finger down his throat and made gagging motions.

Harry stifled a laugh. "I'm sure he is, Hermione."

[A/N yay it's done! This took me altogether too long to get finished]