The castle was quiet and profound in the dead of night.
Even the staircases that moved about everywhere during the day, irritating everyone, seemed to have fallen asleep, slowing the frequency of their movements.
The corridors crisscrossing the castle like a spiderweb, along with the figures in the paintings and tapestries hanging on either side, slept soundly like people.
Only the occasional howl of cold wind passing through and the sounds of small animals scurrying by would briefly make them turn over in their sleep.
Creeeak!
The sudden sound woke the Fat Lady guarding Gryffindor Tower. She opened her eyes and looked around, only to find that the door where her portrait hung had somehow opened.
She quickly swept her gaze around. In the dim blue glow of the magical flames in the braziers, there was not a single person in the corridor.
The Fat Lady grumbled unhappily, "Honestly, which troublemaker was it this time? The last person into the tower didn't close the door—how many times has this happened? I must have a proper word with McGonagall tomorrow!"
She shut the door and murmured to herself as she drifted back to sleep.
Completely unnoticed by her, a tiny patch of distorted light slowly moved away from her side. Only after it had made its way deep into the corridor did suppressed panting suddenly sound in the air.
"Blimey, I never knew the Fat Lady could be this terrifying. That was too thrilling—I could practically feel her gaze scorching my skin!"
"Scaredy-cat. If I hadn't covered your mouth, your teeth would have chattered themselves to pieces!"
"Dammit, that wasn't me shaking. It was Ron—he was pressed right up against me."
"It wasn't me, it was Neville!"
"Y-y-y-yes, sorry, I-I didn't mean to, I just couldn't stop being scared—"
"Shh—quiet!"
With