7 Chapter (2)

me he had seen it. He wandered blindly, bumping into things until he came to the door of the dormitories. It was only a wooden door, not so difficult to prate, but he could never get it to open. He would press his ear to the door and swear he could hear something on the other side, breathing, the rustling of bed linens, faint whisperings, even the quiet mew of a cat, but never anything that meant anything to him.

He had fire called Ron and Hermione once since his relocation. It had gone as he expected.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally found something to upy your time, Harry! Although, out of the three of us, I would never have pinned you as the one to end up a professor,” Hermione had laughed, and he had to agree.

“How do you like it back there, mate?” Ron had asked, seeming as equally chuffed with the news as Hermione.

“I like it fine. Not the same without everyone here, obviously, but better than Grimmauld Place.”

He had paused for a moment before adding, “I think something odd is going on here, though.”

“Merlin, Harry, it’s Hogwarts. Something odd is always going on there,” Hermione said rolled her eyes.

He had left it at that, realizing that they probably would just think he was being paranoid, or worse, worry about him if he elaborated.

They had ended the call by telling Harry he was going to be a wonderful professor, which he prayed would be true. He supposed that he would be a better professor than he was a student if it wasn’t for that damned locked door. His downfalls as a student had not been for lack of intelligence, or potential, but rather because he was distracted by some rather pressing issues. Of course, just what was wasting away in the defunct Slytherin dungeons was not as pressing of an issue as defeating the Dark Lord, but it was the only one he had. So maybe it was an excuse not to focus, but it didn’t feel like it.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the library, only that he had gone in early that morning and how the sunlight streaming through the windows signaled it was sometime afternoon. He had barely made a dent in the work he wanted to go over that week, only the first folder of old lesson plans being moved to the “done” pile. To be fair, it had only been three days of studying in his five days of being back at Hogwarts, but he knew that if he was working at his full capacity, he could easily be getting through a folder or two a day. He sighed, flipping the page he was staring at back to look at the page before, not at all surprised that he did not remember any of the information he had apparently already worked through. He chewed on his pencil—he had switched to pencils after leaving Hogwarts, quills being too much work for what they were worth—and began scratching down notes again, hoping maybe the third time through the folder would be a charm.

“Potter.”

Harry jumped, dropping his pencil with a clatter as he turned to the source of the voice.

“I am glad to see you have your studies underway,” McGonagall continued, walking around the table where he worked.

“Yes, well, wouldn’t want to get behind,” Potter stuttered, reaching down to the floor to retrieve the pencil.

“Don’t worry, I know if there was anything else for you to do, you would be off doing that,” McGonagall smiled at him. “Speaking of going off, Hagrid mentioned you seem to be spending a lot of time wandering the grounds after dark. Is that so?”

“I suppose I have been spending a bit of time outside after dark, yeah,” Harry affirmed, trying to sound casual, focusing his gaze back to the folder in front of him.

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“Hardly the wisest move, Potter. I’ve heard some of the animals that live in the woods are rather brave this summer,ing close to the castle,” she said in a tone that told Harry if he looked up he would find her squinting down at him suspiciously behind her square frames.

It struck him that maybe she was hoping she would tell him what he had seen. Maybe she had a sneaking suspicion as to what—or who—was roaming the campus and only wanted another person’s input.

“About that,” Harry began, then cut himself off.

“Yes?” McGonagall prompted, rather impatiently.

“Well, uh,” Harry stuttered. He wasn’t quite ready to give up his own inquest into the matter. If he said something, he would likely never knowing , and not knowing was worse than any other oue he could imagine. “It’s just that Hagrid warned me about some wolf or dog, or whatever.”

“Yes, and you’ve seen it?”

Harry swallowed.

“Only the once. From the window in Hagrid’s hut,” Harry lied.

“And not since?”

“It seems to have made itself scarce,” Harry confirmed.

“Interesting,” McGonagall answered, sounding satisfied. “Please do tell me if you see it again, Potter. Won’t want it wandering about when the students return.”

“Of course,” Harry said, smiling at McGonagall in what he hoped was a convincing manner.

McGonagall nodded and made her way back towards the exit of the library. Harry let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

Something, he decided, was off. There had been plenty of dangerous things on the Hogwarts grounds in his time there, and McGonagall had rarely bat an eye at him sneaking about, apart from giving the illusion that she was upset with him unless he really mucked up. That, and the fact that he had bested Voldemort many times before he had even finished puberty. It seemed odd to him that something so ordinary as a wolf would cause her to worry so much, especially now that he was a grown man. He immediately regretted not telling her, because if she saw the wolf as a threat, he could have helped. God knows it had been a while since he engaged in any actual defense magic.

She knew something. Just what, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he would need toe clean to find out.