Late Evening, September 2nd, 1894 — Hogwarts Corridor

"I don't wish to alarm you," Flora said in a low voice, just loud enough for her fellow prefect to hear her, "but I think there is something over there." She nodded in the direction of stretch of corridor adjacent to their post.

It was a familiar corridor, one that she traversed every day while rushing from Transfiguration to Herbology class. The portraits always offered reassuring words as she passed, and the sunlight always hit the windows at the precise angle needed to light the entire passageway.

But now it was night, and the shadows were so dark that she could hardly see more than a feet. The portraits, the windows, even the vibrant red carpet was cloaked in darkness—save for the little flash of light she swore she could see out of the corner of her eye every time she began to look away. It was not just the light, though, that made her so uneasy. It was the tension she felt whenever she positioned her back to the corridor. The way the air seemed to still entirely when she looked in its direction.

They were being watched.

"... And I don't think it's a student."

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Open to a prefect!

  

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At Miss Mulciber's words, Charles turned to look down the corridor. He didn't see anything except darkness, but something made him uneasy. The castle was full of little mysteries, it wasn't that unusual to find something strange in the corridors. That wasn't always a good thing, and night made everything more harrowing.

"Do you think we should leave it?" Charles asked. "Or see what it is?" Students out of bed they knew how to deal with. Anything else was an unknown entity. He looked back at Miss Mulciber, and immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

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Flora could not tear her gaze from a spot in the darkness. "I am inclined to let it be," she admitted. She'd never been afraid to voice her hesitation—she did not claim to be particularly brave, nor did she have the DADA scores to back her up with matters like these. "But I have a sneaking suspicion that it won't let us be."

If she looked hard enough, she could swear that she saw something moving in the darkness. But that made little sense, didn't it? It was pitch black, and there was no light to see anything beyond the edge of the shadow.

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Charles frowned, looking back into the darkness. The uneasy feeling was only growing, but he had a feeling Miss Mulciber was right. "All right," he said, not sounding nearly as brave as he would have liked to. He drew his wand. "Lumos.

He really hoped whatever it was wasn't angered by light. But if they weren't going to get away, Charles wanted to see what was coming at him.

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Flora would not have advised casting lumos directly at the source of her unease, but there was no stopping Mr. Whymper once he'd pulled out his wand. Instead, Flora was left to hold her breath, her eyes scanning every inch of the corridor as the light invaded every corner.

Nothing.

The tension dissipated around her, but there was still a nagging feeling that something wasn't right. She eyed each portrait closely, then the statues, and then—

"Mr. Whymper," she said in a low voice, "Do you see anything unusual about the suit of armor over there?"

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"Yes," Charles said. He was backing away. He didn't even realize he was doing it at first, but Charles' feet shuffled back all the same. He had no intention of turning his back, but he also couldn't bring himself to just stand still either. "What do we do?"

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