Amisty tried, she really did, to get Hermione away from her work.
The brunette had stuck by her side for a while, laughing and eating food that the twins had somehow snuck out of the kitchen. And then she slipped away to start working on her homework when Harry and Ron dragged Amisty off to join them.
She nudged Harry, who was chewing on a Peppermint Toad and gestured off to Hermione, who was reading Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles so carefully her forehead was barely visible above the top of the book. Then again, it was a rather large book. Not the biggest of Hermione's incredible collection, but definitely one of the top five.
They headed over to her.
"Did you even come to the match?" Harry asked, his voice rising in pitch slightly as Amisty stepped on his foot.
It was a warning, a fair one at that. It wasn't the nicest way to word a question, and judging by Hermione's posture she was very stressed at the moment.
"Of course I did. And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday," Hermione replied, her voice very tight and strained as she talked to her book.
"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry urged, his gaze shifting over to Ron, who was talking to Seamus and Dean amicably.
"I can't, Harry! I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" Hermione argued, looking over at Ron. "Anyways.... He doesn't want me to join in."
Amisty's heart clenched, she hated seeing the two of them like this, and she twisted her fingers.
"If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them -- " Ron announced loudly.
Hermione broke down into tears, picked up her book and tucked it under her arm, and raced up to the girls' dormitory, tears still streaming down her face.
Amisty charged after her, glaring at Ron over her shoulder and almost running face first into the locked dormitory door after she scaled the spiral staircase.
"Hermione!" She banged on the door desperately, almost positive her voice could be heard downstairs. "Hermione, please open the door!"
There was a soft click and Amisty pushed the door open, finding Hermione with her head buried in her pillow, sobbing.
Crookshanks was curled up beside her, his tail brushing against her arms. His big yellow eyes looked up at Amisty when she entered, not leaving her as she gently sat down at the edge of Hermione's bed.
She didn't say anything, just placed her hand on the brunette's shoulder reassuringly and waiting for her to speak first. They stayed like that for a while, Hermione crying and Amisty waiting while the party raged on beneath them.
Finally, she lifted her head and looked over at Amisty, brown eyes puffy and red with tear stains down her cheeks.
"I-I'm sorry. I just couldn't -- Ron, he -- " Her voice came out strangled and choked, cutting off as she wiped her eyes.
"I know, I know," Amisty whispered, nodding and simply waiting for her to continue.
"I've been taking so many classes and all the homework is just piling up, I barely have time to sleep anymore! And then with Harry and Ron not talking to me after that Firebolt and now with Ron and Scabbers!" She left out a small sob before continuing. "I know Crookshanks didn't know he was mad and I know Ron is upset but still!"
Amisty hugged her tightly, feeling the fabric around her shoulders go damp at Hermione's slowly dissipating tears.
She waited patiently for Hermione to stop, and gently let go of her as if she were made of glass.
"Are you going to be alright?" She asked softly, still perched on the edge of the bed.
"Yes... I think I'm going to finish my work up here tonight if you don't mind," She replied, voice still hoarse.
"Of course. Don't work yourself too hard, okay, 'Mione?" Amisty stood up, heading toward the door and looking over her shoulder.
"I'll try," Hermione gave a wry smile, opening Home LIfe and Social Habits of British Muggles once more and running her finger down the page to find where she had left off.
It didn't take very long for her to become immersed in it, and Amisty took that as her cue to leave. Harry was standing with two mugs of Butterbeer, looking torn.
She joined his side, letting out a heavy sigh to announce her presence.
"You were gone for a while, is she okay?" Harry asked worriedly, handing her the second mug of Butterbeer.
"Just overwhelmed and upset. You and Ron really need to lighten up, even just a little. There's only so much a person can take," She snapped, gulping down some of the drink in an attempt to keep herself calm.
"I know... Ron just won't listen," Harry looked at his feet, dejected.
Feeling guilty, she nudged him with her elbow, offering a small smile.
"Try and I'll attempt not to hurt either of you," She teased lightheartedly, winking.
"Right," He laughed, looking the slightest bit more reassured. "Have you had any of the treacle tarts yet? It's fantastic."
"Of course it's treacle tart, what else did I expect?" Amisty rolled her eyes, grinning but still following after Harry as he led the way over to the dessert table.
-=+=-
The party seemed to last forever, only ending after Professor McGonagall crawled through the portrait hole. Dressed in a tartan gown and a hair net around her brown locks she insisted they all go to sleep.
When Amisty looked at the clock she was shocked to see it was one o'clock in the morning. After saying goodnight to Harry and Ron, giving the latter a hard look for Hermione's sake, she climbed up the steps to the girls' dormitory.
To her relief, her brown-haired friend was sound asleep, textbook placed steadily on her bedside table.
Climbing into her bed and tugging the curtains closed, she pulled up the covers over her and fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Thankfully, her dreams weren't plagued with Haven's lifeless body or monstrous black wolves with gleaming golden eyes. Instead, they were of her wolf form chasing some gleaming green thing through a strange forest she had never seen before.
As soon as she got close to see a flick of a scaly, finned tail, it seemed as if she had been pushed back five feet. And then she was about to reach the source of the weird light.
Her hand was a few mere inches away, the light so strong it was almost blinding, and she jumped awake at the sound of a loud scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
It sounded very scarily like Ron.
There were muffled voices, no doubt coming from the boys' dormitory judging by the direction, and a door slam.
Amisty tugged at her hangings, tearing them apart and leaning over to light the lamp on her bedside table. No one else needed to know about her weird glowing eyes, especially with the fast pace of gossip that spread around if anything was told to Lavender and Parvati.
Everyone would know, even the ghosts, within three days.
As she looked around, she wasn't surprised to see everyone else already somewhat awake, eyes gleaming in the golden light of the lamp.
The scream had definitely been loud, not to mention with the loud chatter coming over from the other side of the room. Though, Amisty wasn't sure anyone else could hear that.
"Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!"
"What?"
"Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!"
"You sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?"
"Look at the curtains! I tell you, he was here!"
It was very muffled, no doubt, but she could hear it easily. By her guess, it was because the potion wore off by the end of the day. She usually wasn't awake at night so there was no point in taking it.
"What was that?" Lavender asked, her voice drowsy with sleep as she rubbed her eyes.
She also dragged Amisty away from her eavesdropping, and the raven-haired girl turned her attention to her roommates. All of which were now wide awake and concerned.
"Did someone scream?" Hermione added, her brown eyes wide and alert and scared.
"I-I don't know," Amisty replied shakily, tugging on a jacket and stumbling out of bed.
Trying to ignore the coldness of the floor on her feet, she felt her way through the dormitory to keep from tripping.
The lamp hadn't given as much light as she had hoped. There was the sound of multiple thunderous footsteps and doors creaking open.
She opened up the dormitory door, leaving all the other third-year Gryffindors behind as she walked down to the once deserted common room. The only light came from the dying fire, illuminating the trash and mess they had made from the party.
That wouldn't be very fun to clean up later.
"Who shouted?"
"What're you doing?"
Various sleepy voices called down from the boy's side of the room.
All of the third year Gryffindor boys were standing in the common room, staring around with wide eyes.
"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" Dean asked disbelievingly, staring at the redhead.
"I'm telling you, I saw him!" Ron insisted.
"What's all the noise?"
"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"
Those were some older Gryffindor girls, all tugging on dressing gowns and yawning as they tried to get the words down.
Boys from Harry's side were joined them as well, rubbing the sleep away from their eyes and gazing around without too much focus.
She didn't quite understand their sleepy calmness, but then again, only the third years had already heard Ron's story.
Amisty hurried down the staircase, joining Harry's side and staring up at him, eyes wide, staring, and terrified, "What's happened?"
He didn't reply, tugging her close to him and protectively crossing an arm around her. It didn't console her fear.
"Excellent, are we carrying on?" Fred appeared, a brilliant grin on his face at the sight of everyone gathered around.
"Everyone back upstairs!" Percy scolded sharply, pinning his Head Boy badge onto his pajamas as he hurried down the stairs.
"Perce -- Sirius Black! In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!" Ron was almost whispering, voice coming out in fragments.
Amisty felt a shiver run down her back and she subconsciously shifted closer to Harry. He just tightened his grip on her in response.
"Nonsense! You had too much to eat, Ron -- had a nightmare -- " Percy protested, looking thunderstruck.
"I'm telling you -- " Ron began, frustrated.
"Now, really, enough's enough!" Professor McGonagall cut him off, slamming the portrait behind her as she stormed in. "I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"
"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor! I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare -- " Percy began importantly.
"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE! PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!" Ron roared, stomping loudly to get everyone's attention.
Professor McGonagall just stared at him, "Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he have possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"
"Ask him! Ask him if he saw -- " Ron replied shakily, pointing down the portrait hole and at the back of Sir Cadogan's painting.
Professor McGonagall, not looking very convinced, crawled back out and closed the portrait behind her. The common room fell silent, listening closely.
"Sir Cadogan, did you let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?" Professor McGonagall demanded.
"Certainly, good lady!" Sir Cadogan replied cheerfully, not at all sounding concerned despise the serious tone.
There were a few sharp intakes of breath from inside the common room, and Professor McGonagall had gone quiet.
"You -- you did? But -- but the password!" Professor McGonagall spoke at last, struggling to keep her composure.
"He had 'em! Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!" Sir Cadogan announced brightly, his voice followed by the sound of metal clanking.
It seemed as if he were making gestures as he spoke. There was a rustling as Professor McGonagall entered the common room once more, her mouth thin and cheeks a devoid of color.
"Which person," Her voice was dangerously soft, shaking with fury, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"
It was silent. Tense, confused silence.
Until there was a terrified small squeak toward the back of the crowd.
Amisty looked over her shoulder, eyes going wide and face going pale at the sight. Neville, shaking so hard it was a wonder he was standing at all, had his hand in the air.