CHAPTER EIGHT:

(A/N: I apologize in advance...)

Third Person P.O.V.:

It was safe to say that when the quartet arrived back at the castle that night, things were quiet. Neither of them knew what to say to one another with this newfound information.

Harry had hatred in his heart that was coursing through him like a poison. Charlie had spent hours replaying the conversation in his head to put pieces of the puzzle together, but that was hard to do when the final image was so unknown. Hermione couldn't help but worry about Harry's well-being after finding out who was the real reason for his parents' death. And Ron? Well, in typical Ron fashion, he had literally no idea what the hell was going on.

Charlie hadn't gotten to sleep until late into the night, but he was still up before Harry. He woke up, took a shower, got dressed, and had gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad, and Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables.

"Morning." The boy said softly to his friends.

Ron waved to him from the couch in front of the fireplace while Hermione turned to face him.

"Morning," she said with a smile.

Charlie moved to take a seat next to Hermione. The boy looked down at the homework she was doing. They were all from different classes; Divination, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes...

The brown eyed boy raised a brow at her. There was no way she could be in all of these classes.

"How are you —"

Hermione cut the boy off as she placed her hand over his mouth. Charlie immediately gave her a look that basically said, "Um, what are you doing?"

The bushy haired girl nodded in Ron's direction on the couch. The ginger was currently stuffing his face with candy from Honeydukes.

"Don't get him started," Hermione whispered, only loud enough for Charlie to hear. "I'll tell you eventually, I just can't right now."

Charlie nodded in understanding before Hermione removed her hand from his mouth. Right as the brown eyed boy opened his mouth to spark up a different conversation, there was a voice heard from above where they were sitting.

"Where is everyone?" said Harry from the staircase balcony.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, turning around to watch Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

Harry came down the stairs and slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face from across the room where her and Charlie sat.

"I'm fine," said Harry.

"Harry, listen," said Hermione, exchanging a look with both, Charlie and Ron, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't do anything stupid."

"Like what?" said Harry.

"Like trying to go after Black," said Ron sharply through a mouthful of candy.

Harry watched as his three friends all looked at one another. It was almost as if they had rehearsed what they were going to say.

"You won't, will you, Harry?" said Hermione.

Charlie spoke softly, "Because Black's not worth dying for, mate."

Harry looked at them as if they didn't understand at all.

"I already told you that I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry." he argued. "And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her —"

"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermione, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and — and they'll serve him right!"

Harry was in disbelief, "You heard what Charlie's dad said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to — to kill Black or something?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicked voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?"

Again, Harry didn't answer. He didn't know what he wanted to do. All he knew was that the idea of doing nothing, while Black was free, was almost more than he could stand.

"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself...I'd want revenge.'"

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" said Charlie a little harshly, getting up from the chair he was sitting in.

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Charlie. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle —"

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily.

"— so obviously, the Malfoy's knew Black was working for Voldemort —"

Charlie rolled his eyes, "— and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, please," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants... Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly.

There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws — Ron's pocket quivered.

"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry shouldn't leave the castle, Ron —"

"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"

"Oi!" Charlie said, getting defensive of the half-giant. "Don't go blaming Hagrid for this. He probably didn't tell you out of fear of you reacting the way you are right now!"

Harry gritted his teeth. Charlie was probably right, but he still wanted to see Hagrid.

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

"Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set —"

"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly.

So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole, down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

As they reached the small hut on the outskirts of the castle walls, Charlie knocked twice on the door, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

Ron had his ear to the door.

"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen — is that Fang?"

Harry, Charlie and Hermione put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.

"Hagrid!" called Charlie, thumping on the door. "Hagrid, are you in there? It's Charlie."

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.

"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto the boy's neck.

Hagrid was at least twice the size of a normal man, meaning Charlie was undoubtedly getting crushed. Charlie, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.

Harry spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Harry, who picked it up and read aloud:

"Dear Mr. Rubeus Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident."

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.

"However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter has therefore been taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.

After examining the case thoroughly, the Committee has sincere regret to inform you, that there has to be repercussions set in place. Buckbeak the Hippogriff, is set to succumb to an execution for his harm against the young students of Hogwarts. The execution date is set to be fixed. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.

Yours in fellowship,
The Hogwarts Board of Governors"

"Oh, Hagrid." Hermione said softly, tears welling up in her eyes. She gave the half-giant a huge hug to which he gladly reciprocated as he sobbed into her robes.

Charlie, on the other hand, was furious.

"They can't do this!" he yelled. "Bloody Malfoy! I swear to Merlin, when I get my hands on that blonde haired prat, he's going to wish that Buckbeak did him in!"

Ron and Harry seemed to agree as they nodded their heads seeping with the same amount of anger as Charlie had expressed.

"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! Buckbeak's gonna —"

The half-giant broke out into more sobs and sniffles. The four Gryffindors shared a glance. The whole Sirius Black debacle was the last thing on their minds at the moment. Instead, they all stayed with Hagrid until he calmed down. Charlie even made some tea; it was what Dumbledore did whenever he was upset about something as a kid.

After a while, Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go... tryin' ter make him fly away... but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' — an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law..." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

—————————————

On Christmas morning, Charlie was awoken by Ron throwing his pillow at him.

"Oi! Presents! Let's go!" He yelled before doing the same to Harry, "You too! Get up!"

Charlie groaned as he groggily sat up in his bed, squinting through the semi-darkness to the foot of his bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Ron was already ripping the paper off of his own presents.

"Another sweater from Mum... maroon again... see if you've got one."

As expected, both Harry and Charlie had. Mrs. Weasley had sent them each a scarlet sweater with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, as well as a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of almond brittle.

As Harry moved all of his things aside, he saw a long, thin package lying underneath.

"What's that?" said Ron, looking over, a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hand.

"Dunno..." said Harry slowly.

Charlie had a newfound curiosity as he looked over, "Well go on, open it."

Harry ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread. Ron dropped his socks and jumped off his bed for a closer look. Charlie got out of his bed and moved towards Harry's bed to see as well.

"I don't believe it," Ron said hoarsely.

It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom of every young Quidditch player in the country. Its handle glittered as Harry picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.

"Who sent it to you?" said Ron in a hushed voice.

"Look and see if there's a card," said Harry.

Ron ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings.

"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"

"Well," said Charlie, setting himself up for a joke, "I'm betting it was the Dursleys."

Harry laughed before stopping to stare at the broom in awe once more.

"I bet it was Dumbledore," said Ron, now walking around the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "I mean, he sent Harry the Invisibility Cloak anonymously..."

"That was my dad's, though," said Harry. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this —"

"Yeah," said Charlie with a playful smile. "Especially if he didn't do the same for his darling grandson."

The three boys broke out into laughter as the door opened. Hermione had just come in, wearing her dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck.

"What's going on in here?" she said as she moved to sit at the end of Charlie's bed.

Ron, however, ignored her and payed more attention to the cat in her hands.

"Don't bring him in here!" he said, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pyjama pocket.

But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Charlie's empty bed next to Ludo, who was fast asleep, and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.

"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"

"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

To Charlie's great surprise, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.

"What's the matter with you?" grunted Ron as he noticed of the look on the girl's face.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," Charlie explained, much to Ron's disapproving glance.

"So it must've been really expensive... Who'd send Harry something like that and then not tell him that they had?"

"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.

The three boy's looked at her as if she had gone mad.

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it — sweep the floor?" said Ron sarcastically.

But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Charlie's bed, right at Ron's chest.

"GET — HIM — OUT — OF — HERE!" Ron bellowed.

The commotion had caused Ludo to wake from his nap. As the dog woke, it wasn't long before he too, started to bark in Scabbers' direction.

"Oh, not you too, you mutt!" The ginger screeched.

Crookshanks's claws ripped Ron's pyjamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder.

Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.

Charlie laughed, "Nice one dumbass."

———————————————

Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. And Ludo, well, Charlie had managed to calm him down enough to the point where he had fallen asleep on his bed once again.

The four of them had made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had sat down at the Gryffindor table, but Charlie did what he usually did every Christmas. He ran up the staff table to say Merry Christmas to his grandfather and the people who helped raised him. As he reached the table, however, he took notice in the fact that Lupin wasn't there.

The brown eyed boy couldn't shake the idea of Lupin being somehow tied to Black's break-in. Especially since so many clues had pointed in his direction. However, the boy didn't question it until he was certain — it was a pretty harsh allegation.

Charlie made his rounds before joining his friends once again. Once they were done eating, they headed back up to common room where Harry was eager to test out his new broom with his friends.

However, as Charlie, Harry, and Ron were about to head towards the castle grounds. They were stopped when Professor McGonagall came walking towards them with Hermione following closely behind her.

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, stopping in front of them and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

Charlie looked to Hermione in disbelief, and saw her face reddening in guilt.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of Harry's hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Harry blankly.

"I see..." said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W-what?" said Harry, aghast. "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madame Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down —"

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor —"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, in absolute disbelief as to what just happened. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione cowered under his harsh gaze at first. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

Ron wasn't having it.

"I can't believe you!" he growled.

That's when Charlie stepped in between the two of them and pulled Ron back by the arm, "Oi, back off, will you? She did what she thought was right. Don't be getting your wand in a knot because she had Harry's well-being in mind while all you cared about was the damn broom."

Ron glared in Charlie's direction, "Typical of you to take her side over ours."

Charlie shook his head in disbelief before groaning, "Believe it or not, Ron, there doesn't always have to be sides. Now, I suggest you calm down before you say something you regret."

The ginger simply scoffed before retreating back to their dormitory. Charlie looked at Harry who smiled softly.

"It's alright," he said, before shifting to Hermione. "Thanks for looking out for me."

Hermione smiled softly as Harry retreated back to their dorm as well to check on Ron. This left Charlie and Hermione, alone in the common room.

The boy turned around to make sure Hermione was alright. To his surprise, she was looking up at him with a small blush on her face, "Nice of you to defend me like that."

Charlie laughed as he scratched the back of his neck out of nervousness of being alone with Hermione for the first time since their moment, "Yeah, well, Ron can be a prat. You didn't deserve that at all, you were looking out for Harry."

Hermione watched the boy intently as he moved to the couch in front of the fire and slumped down. She bit her lip, contemplating what she was going to say next; she wanted to ask him about the other day, in Hogsmeade.

After a moment she spoke, "Charlie, about the other day... you, know, in Hogsmeade... we — um — never got to finish our conversation —"

"Right." Charlie cut her off quickly before any more awkwardness could arise from this conversation. "Don't worry about it. It was nothing, honestly. Let's just forget about it."

The boy had a lot to process since that day in Hogsmeade, so he thought it'd be best to wait to have this conversation with Hermione until after things had settled down.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was for Hermione's face to fall as he dismissed the topic; he thought she would be on the same page as he was.

"Oh... okay."

Charlie's heart began to beat rapidly in a panic.

Did he say something wrong?

Wait.

What just happened?

Just wait a damn minute.

"Hold on," Charlie panicked as he got up and approached her, "That's not what I meant —"

"No, no I get it," Hermione waved a hand in front of him to try and convince him that she was okay. "You're right. It was nothing, I'm just reading into things too much, as always."

"Hermione —"

"It's okay," she cut him off again. "My fault. I thought that something might've... it's fine. Like you said, let's just forget it."

With that, she headed towards her dorm, leaving Charlie alone in the common room, completely confused as to how things went south so quickly.

———————————————

The holiday break didn't seem to last long because soon enough, all of the students had returned to Hogwarts, and quickly January went into February.

Harry not only got his Firebolt back, but had also started his anti-dementor magic lessons with Lupin like he had told his friends he was going to. Charlie had even managed to hang around and witness Lupin's lesson after class one day. If he was being honest, it was Charlie's attempt at trying to avoid Ron and Hermione as their bickering kept getting worse and worse.

During the lesson, Lupin caught Charlie up to speed on the spell, Expecto Patronum. Which is considered to be the most famous and one of the most powerful defensive charms known to wizardkind. It was the primary protection spell against Dementors, against which there are no other defence.

Charlie raised a brow, "And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will only work if you are concentrating, with all of your might, on a single, very happy memory." Lupin explained.

Halfway through the lesson, Charlie inquired to Lupin on what dementors are like with their hoods off, and the professor explained that no one knows unless they're on the end of a Dementor's Kiss. That is what happens when a dementor sucks out a person's soul through their mouth, leaving them a wandering shell for eternity. The Dementor's Kiss happened to have been authorized as the fate for Sirius Black, which Harry said was a good thing, but Lupin seemed to think it was fair for anyone — yet another reason Charlie has to believe that Lupin was in cahoots with Sirius Black.

Much to his disappointment, Lupin's lessons weren't able to distract Charlie from what was going between him and Hermione.

Him and Ron seemed to patch things up after their brief falling out. But, Charlie didn't know how to fix things between him and the bushy haired girl. Mainly because this wasn't like the other awkward phases they had shared. This time, Hermione was trying her hardest to avoid the brown eyed boy at all costs, which he obviously took notice of.

On the bright side, things between Charlie and Hermione could never be as bad as her relationship with Ron. The ginger had yet to forgive her for telling McGonagall about Harry's broomstick. It also didn't help that Crookshanks had been relentless in going after Scabbers recently.

One cold, February night, Charlie and Harry had returned to the Gryffindor common room after an intense Quidditch practice. The brown eyed boy walked in and noticed Hermione, the only person in the room, sitting at one of the tables, doing her homework as per usual.

While Harry went up to the dorm, Charlie sighed to himself but gathered enough courage to go and sit down next to the girl, who hadn't looked up as they walked in. The boy was fed up with being ignored for the past couple of weeks, he wanted them to go back to the way they were.

As he sat down, he saw Hermione tense, almost as if she was dreading the conversation.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Charlie said blatantly.

Hermione was taken aback at his bluntness as she looked up to meet his gaze, "I'm not avoiding you, I've just been busy —"

"You've been busy all year, but that's never stopped you from talking to me before."

Hermione sighed as Charlie pressed on.

"Listen, I didn't mean to upset you during our conversation a couple of weeks ago. I spoke without thinking."

The bushy haired girl put her quill down as she spoke softly, "You dismissed it so quickly — I thought — I just — I wanted to know what you were going to say that day in Hogsmeade, because it sounded like it could have been about... but then you acted like it meant nothing."

The boy gulped as he felt a sudden nervousness take over his entire body. This conversation, at this point, was inevitable.

"I — um — of course it meant something," he stuttered, "I just thought that it might not be the best time to have that conversation —"

Hermione's eyes lit up, "What conversation?"

"Well, you know, about — er — what's been going on between — you know — the two of us..."

The bushy haired girl's cheeks suddenly flushed pink.

This was it. It's happening!

"Oh," she said as small smile appeared on her face. "Well I — uh — don't really know..."

Charlie nodded, relieved that she was as confused by their intimate moments as he was.

"I mean, we've always been close, it's just lately things have been..." he trailed off.

Hermione blushed even more, "Yeah..."

Charlie groaned; he knew this was going to be awkward but like he never expected it to be like this.

"So," he gulped, dreading the answer of the question he needed to ask, "where exactly does this leave us?"

Hermione thought for a moment, trying to process what was going on. There he was, the boy she had developed an undeniable crush on, sitting in front of her and asking her what the next steps for their relationship was. It was everything she wanted to happen, but she couldn't help but feel like it was happening at the worst possible time.

Buckbeak was going to be executed, Ron and her were arguing non-stop, Charlie had just starting opening up about his father's aggression, Harry was angrier than she had ever seen him, she was swamped with homework from her classes, and not to mention, there was a murderer on the loose.

So, as much as she didn't want to, she had to do what she thought was right.

She fought back the tears in her eyes as she spoke softly, avoiding the boy's intense gaze that was awaiting her answer, "We're friends, Charlie."

Charlie's face fell slightly causing Hermione's heart to get heavier than it was before.

"Right," Charlie muttered, sadly. "Friends."

"I'm sorr—"

"What for?" He cut her off as he plastered a fake smile on his face, looking up at her once again, "We're friends. That's all. My fault for thinking it was something else... it — uh — won't happen again."

Hermione could feel her heart break slightly as his words were like a nail in her coffin; she really just ruined her only shot at being with him.

Charlie spoke to break the silence, "We're good then?"

Hermione nodded slowly as she watched Charlie smile one last time before he went up to his dorm. As soon as he was out of sight, Hermione buried her face in her hands and started to regret everything that just happened.

Much to her unknowing, when Charlie had arrived to his dorm room, he jumped on to his bed, and groaned in frustration in his pillow.

He felt defeated, his world felt like it was crashing down on top of him. Everything was falling apart.

How could he have been so wrong?

———————————————

That same night, after barely being about to fall asleep after his encounter with Hermione, Charlie was awoken by the sudden screams of Ron in the room.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Charlie bolted up, and saw a silhouette etched on the windowsill that Ron was so fearfully looking at. There was man standing there clutching a knife in his hands. All of the boys were awake now, screaming as they feared for their lives.

In the midst of the chaos, Harry grabbed his wand off of his bedside table before yelling, "Everybody out!"

Seamus, Neville, and Dean didn't have to be told twice as they bolted for the door, but Charlie and Ron stood still, ready to help their friend in his face-off with the man in the window.

"Show yourself," Harry yelled.

Then suddenly, CRASH!

A water glass from Ron's bedside table had smashed to ground from behind them, and as the three boys turned, Scabbers darted past Charlie's feet as he was being chased by Crookshanks.

Seizing the moment, the silhouette grasped the curtains and swung himself through the open window, plunging into the night. Charlie was quick to rush to the window and peer down. He saw the silhouette leap from ledge to ledge with an animal-like grace before vanishing around a corner.

Charlie's gaze was pulled from the window as he heard Harry yell from behind him.

"Ron! Ron!"

As the brown eyed boy turned, Ron was nowhere to be found. Charlie and Harry shared a nervous glance towards one another when suddenly, Ron poked his head out from underneath his bed.

The ginger was shaking in fear, "Is he gone?"

———————————————

It didn't take long before the entire Gryffindor house, in their pyjamas, were now stationed in the common room due to the commotion. Even McGonagall had come from her living quarters in a tartan robe, looking onwards with an expression of irritation from the rude awakening.

The three boys had just finished telling her about the silhouette of the man in their room to which the entire Gryffindor house gasped at the revelation.

Ron had even gone as far as to say that the man was Sirius Black.

"That's preposterous!" McGonagall scolded. "How could Sirius Black possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"With all due respect, Professor," Charlie chimed in as McGonagall's gaze shifted towards him. Her expression immediately softening. "Sir Cadogan isn't exactly the Queen's guard. Regardless, how he got in should be the least of our worries. Our main focus should be as to why he was holding a knife."

Just then, a curiously content looking Crookshanks had descended from the stairs and wended his way through Ron's legs.

"And that bloody cat ate my rat!" Ron accused. "I found cat hair next to blood, and coincidentally enough, Scabbers is nowhere to be found!"

Hermione had made her way through the crowd to which Charlie looked to the floor; he couldn't face her, not now, not after what happened.

"That's a lie!" Hermione defended.

Ron scoffed, "It is not and you bloody well know it!"

McGonagall sighed before yelling, "SILENCE!"

The Professor turned and everyone followed her eye to Sir Cadogan who, sensing the attention, perked up instantly.

"Sir Cadogan," McGonagall address him carefully, "Is it possible that you let a mysterious man into Gryffindor Tower tonight?"

"Certainly, good lady!" Sir Cadogan said happily, causing the entire room to gasp. "He had the password. Had the whole week's in fact! On a little piece of paper..."

McGonagall was livid as she turned back to the crowd, "Which abysmally, foolish person wrote down the passwords and then proceeded to lose them?!"

The entire room's gaze shifted towards Neville, who gulped immediately.

McGonagall sighed, "Is it always going to be you, Longbottom?"

Neville nodded, embarrassed, "I'm afraid so, Professor."

McGonagall sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that night before addressing the room.

"While we know Sirius Black is gone tonight, I think you can safely assume he will, at some point in the near future, return. So, let me be clear. You are not to move around the castle alone. And you are not to write down the passwords! Understood?!"

There was a collective nod of the head from the students in front of her. Minerva gave the tie on her robe a sharp tug before saying, "Very well, off to bed."

With that, the Professor turned on her heel and left the room. As the students began to drift off, Ron casted one last angry glance at Hermione, who had Crookshanks in her arms.

"I could've killed him," muttered Harry from his spot beside the fireplace.

For the first time since their conversation, Charlie and Hermione shared a worried glance before they walked over to their friend.

"He was right there," Harry growled. "Close enough to touch. I could've killed him."

This day could not possibly get any worse.

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

I'm sorry! It had to be done! ahahaha, we need some drama! Some suspense! Their relationship can't be rushed, please forgive me...

Anyways! Hope you enjoyed, if you did, you know what to do ❤️

Much love to you all, until next time!

xo, Selena