Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 24: The Watcher
The week that followed was the longest of Harry's life.
It started with small things… a whisper in an empty corridor, a shadow that vanished when he turned, a cold breath on the back of his neck when no one was there.
At first, he told himself it was his imagination. The hidden book had rattled him. The truth about his father, about the war, about Pansy's mother… it was all settling into his bones like a slow-acting poison.
But by Tuesday, he could no longer pretend that it was all in his mind.
He was walking back to the common room after a late session in the library when he heard it… a soft, rasping whisper, just behind his left shoulder.
"Potter…"
He spun around, only to find an empty corridor.
"Who's there?" Harry called.
His only answer was a profound silence.
He walked faster to get out of there and rushed to the dungeons.
That night, he barely slept.
But when he was lying in his four-poster bed, staring at the green glow of the lake through the window… he saw it again.
There was a figure. Tall, cloaked, and barely visible. It floated in the depths of the lake, its outline shimmering like a lantern, and… it was looking straight at him, watching him intensely.
Harry's heart almost stopped right there. He sat up… the figure did not move. It simply hung there, like a dark stain against the green water.
"Draco," Harry whispered, "Draco, wake up. There is something outside."
Draco mumbled something and turned over.
Harry hurried to look back at the window… the figure was gone.
He could not sleep at all after that.
<><><><><><><>
By Wednesday, he was completely exhausted.
Dark circles hung under his eyes. He would jump at any sudden noises and would scan every corridor before entering, every corner before turning.
Pansy was the first one to notice his deplorable state.
"Harry, you look terrible," she said at breakfast. "Are you feeling sick? Do you need to go see the nurse?"
"I'm not sick, I just… didn't sleep well," he said.
"You are still having trouble sleeping?" Draco frowned. "What's going on? Is something bothering you?"
"Well…" Harry hesitated.
What was he supposed to tell them? He didn't know what this shadowy figure was.
'What if they think I'm going mad?' Even in the magical world, hearing voices and seeing shadow figures could not be normal.
And if this was somehow related to the Headmaster, he definitely didn't want to involve them. He had only known Draco, Vincent, and Pansy for a short period of time, but he already felt very protective towards them. He had never had true friends before and didn't wish to scare them away…
"I… I'm just having some nightmares, that's all. I'm sure it will pass soon," Harry ended up giving them the first excuse he could come up with.
Draco, Vincent, and Pansy exchanged a look.
"Okay then," said Draco. "But if you need anything, you can tell us."
"Yeah, if something bothers you, talk to us," added Pansy.
Crabbe nodded.
Harry tried to show a genuine smile despite how tired he was feeling. "Thanks." They were really good friends.
<><><><><><><><><>
The whispers continued to follow him everywhere.
In the library, he would hear a rustle of fabric while walking between the shelves, or would sometimes feel a cold breath at the back of his neck.
In the dungeons, before going into the Potions classroom, he heard soft footsteps behind him that stopped when he turned.
In the common room, by the fire, he would sometimes see a fleeting shadow at the edge of his vision, and it was gone before he could focus.
Harry started sleeping with his wand under his pillow, even though the only spell he could more or less use was the Lumos Charm.
He also stopped walking alone whenever possible. He stuck close to Draco, Pansy, and Crabbe, or anyone who could fill the silence.
But the figure in the lake returned every night.
It never moved around or attempted to come closer… it simply watched.
And Harry knew, with absolute certainty, that it was not his imagination.
'Someone is keeping an eye on me, he thought. But who…'
A name came to the front of his mind almost immediately: Albus Dumbledore.
Who else would want to keep an eye on a simple eleven-year-old orphan boy? The Headmaster had shown a lot of interest in him, for reasons he still could not understand. But regardless, this was his first suspect.
This did nothing but increase his concerns. If the Headmaster was the one watching him with this shadow creature, then he would need to be even more careful about what he did, even while in private.
That night, he did not write in his diary and kept it in its hidden place.
By Friday, he had made a decision.
He could no longer keep Morgana's book in his trunk. If Dumbledore was having him watched… if the mysterious ghostly figure was part of his vigilance, then the book was not safe with him. He could not let them find it.
He needed a place to hide it. A place where no one would find it.
Harry knew of two places in Hogwarts that could serve as perfect hideouts, but he only had access to one of them right now, which made his decision an easy one.
The Room of Requirement.
He had not thought about this room since arriving at Hogwarts, but now the memory surfaced like a lifeline during a moment of need.
That evening, after dinner, he excused himself from the others and walked to the left corridor of the seventh floor. He found the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, which depicts his attempt to train trolls to dance ballet, and then… he paced back and forth three times, focusing on his need: 'I need a place to hide something important.'
A door appeared in the stone wall.
Harry gasped when he saw it. "It worked!" He hurried to push it open and stepped inside before someone could see him.
The room was small and circular, lit by a single floating orb that cast a soft, warm light. There were shelves lining the walls, empty and waiting to be used.
Harry walked to one of the empty shelves and placed A Treatise on Magical Cores. Then he added his personal diary, the history book written by his grandfather (which he had retrieved from the library that same afternoon), and the small box containing his mother's journals and photographs.
'They should be safe here, 'he thought. 'No one will find them.'
After making sure he had not forgotten anything, he turned around and left without wasting time. The last thing he wanted was for his "stalker" to find him leaving this room.
As he exited the Room of Requirement, his eyes scanned his surroundings but found nothing of note, and heard no whispers or any other sounds.
He allowed himself a breath of relief and began to make his way back to the dungeons.
As he walked through the corridors of the seventh floor, his eyes turned towards the windows. From this height, he got a good view of the Black Lake.
Everything looked very peaceful and still, but then… he saw it… standing at the edge of the water, was a cloaked figure.
Harry's blood turned to ice.
The figure was not inside the lake this time. It was on solid ground, facing the castle.
Facing him!
He stumbled back, his hand reaching for his wand. By the time he looked again, the figure was gone.
"No…" He ran.
The corridors were dark. The sun had almost set, and the torches were starting to cast their faint orange lights.
Harry's footsteps echoed off the stone walls, breaking the silence of the hall.
'I need to get to the common room,' he thought. 'I need to be with the others. I'll be safe there.'
His heart was beating fast. He rounded a corner, and… he froze. "Ahh!"
The figure was now standing at the end of the corridor, blocking his path.
He could now see the figure much clearer than at any time before, and its features were much more defined.
It was tall, taller than any other student Harry had seen. Its cloak was dark and tattered, hanging in folds that touched the floor. It looked more rotten than anything else, as if it had been left underwater for too long.
Something was covering its face. At first, Harry thought it was a hood, but then he realized it was his hair. The figure had very long black hair that almost seemed to fuse with its black cloak.
In between the strands of black hair, Harry saw a pair of glowing eyes… watching him. Staring directly into his soul.
He had never been so scared in his life. But still… he raised his wand. "W-who are you? What do you want from me?"
The figure raised a hand and took a step forward while whispering something he could not understand. There was only one word he could make out, and it was his name.
"W-Poter…hhhe-"
"I said stop!" Harry's voice cracked. "I know magic. I'll hex you!"
The figure took another step. Harry backed away, his heart hammering inside his chest.
He turned around and ran in the opposite direction.
Harry could feel the presence of the figure right behind him at every step.
But the worst part was that he knew this path led to a corridor with no exit. This was the last floor of the castle, and the only way towards the stairs was the one blocked by the dark figure.
Soon enough, he found himself cornered against a wall. When he turned around, the figure was right there… looking at him… whispering.
"T-that's it! Let me go!" Harry pointed his wand at the ghostly figure. "I will exorcise you. I'm warning you!"
"W-poter…wot-hhhhh… hhhh…" It whispered and approached him.
"That's it!" Harry pushed as much power as he could muster into his wand. "Lumos Solem!" A powerful flash of light emerged from his wand.
Harry had no idea if this was going to have any effect on whatever this thing was, but it was the only spell in his arsenal, so he could only hope.
The dark creature took a step back after receiving the 'attack', and Harry wasted no time in rushing past it.
As he did so, he got a much closer look at the figure. It was semi-translucent, and he could see the stone wall behind it. But more importantly, some of the black hair had moved away from its face, and Harry managed to catch a good glimpse of what his stalker looked like.
It was a young man, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. He had a face with sharp features, his eyes were as black as his hair, and there was a hint of desperation in them.
"Wait… who…" Harry could not help but think that this person looked familiar. "Who are y-"
Right as he passed by it, and before he could see more, the figure flickered and… vanished.
Harry stopped and looked around. He could not find it anywhere.
<><><><><><><>
He walked back to the common room in a daze, his mind spinning.
He went into his bed and closed the curtains after exchanging a few words with his friends.
Harry simply sat in his bed, thinking about what he had seen.
That dark figure… he is a ghost. He had no doubts about that after seeing it up close.
However, this one was different from the other ghosts in Hogwarts. It was not well defined, and it seemed to have trouble communicating. But it was obvious that it knew him, as it kept repeating his name, and that there was something it wanted to communicate to him.
He no longer believed that this was a spy sent by the Headmaster. Surely, Dumbledore had better ways to keep an eye on him, and it would make no sense for a spy to try to talk with the person they were supposed to spy on.
But then… who is this ghost? And why did he look so familiar? He was sure he had seen that face before, or a similar one.
It is not from the original story, that is for sure. Harry remembered the faces and names of all the ghosts that were supposed to be in Hogwarts, and there was no one like that.
"What is going on?…" The only thing he knew for sure was that if he wanted answers, he was going to need to talk with that ghost.
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