As night deepened, Jerry left the Castle and headed toward the Whomping Willow.
As Jerry approached, the willow seemed to sense him. Like an enraged beast in the night wind, it creaked and lashed its branches through the air, warning him to stay away.
Jerry did not break stride. The tree needed a little pruning. He raised his Wand and gave it a casual flick. Sectumsempra sliced cleanly through the branches whipping toward him. At once, the Whomping Willow fell still, save for the leaves trembling softly in the breeze like whispers.
Seconds later, Jerry reached the trunk and easily found the hidden opening among its roots. He raised his Wand, and a gentle light glowed at its tip as he examined the entrance closely.
The opening was much narrower than he had expected. He would have to stoop or even crawl to get through. Without hesitation, Jerry transformed into a Raven and slipped through, entering the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack.
The tunnel wound through the darkness. Jerry beat his wings cautiously, flying forward at a slow, steady pace. As the passage rose and curved, a faint glow appeared ahead: the exit.
Jerry passed through the opening and returned to his original form. Wand in hand, he edged forward sideways.
He entered a room in disarray. The dusty air smelled stale. Wallpaper peeled from the walls, the floor was stained, and the furniture lay in ruins, plainly wrecked by force. Boards covered every window, shutting out the light.
The room was empty. To his right, a half-open door led into a dim Entrance Hall, letting in a cold draft. Jerry scanned the room before his gaze settled on a battered wooden chair nearby. Most of its slats were gone, along with one leg. It stood as a