A Broken Slytherin : Lunar Loss (Book 3)

The Grim

The three walked through the narrow passageway, hunched over with dread building in their stomachs. For all they knew, Ron was gone for good. But never the less, the continued on, not knowing where they were being led or where they would end up.

y/n's mind continued to linger in the cold grey eyes of the dog that took Ron. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the same dog that had attacked her in the forest she was sure of it. And it must have been the same dog from the Quidditch match, and from that night in Little Whinging. It was becoming too pattern-like to be ignored, no matter how much y/n wish she could.

Soon, a light source came into view ahead of them. A very old rotting step ladder was perched against the side of the passage wall leading up to a trap door. There was only one way to go. Hermione was the first one to lead them out. Then Harry and y/n after him. y/n pulled herself up out of the ground and onto very old and dusty floorboards of an abandoned home.

The wallpaper looked ancient and outdated. It was peeling off the walls and had violent slashes strewn across it. Any furniture they saw had been ripped to shreds and the floor y/n was on was stained with something too familiar to blood for her comfort.

"We're in the Shrieking Shack," Hermione said, "Aren't we?"

y/n nodded, "Definitely seems like it," she said examining the torn up walls.

"Look," Harry said pointing to drag marks on the floor leading up the stairs. He and y/n exchanged worried glances, "C'mon." He led them upstairs, holding onto Hermione's hand to keep her clam whilst y/n took the flank.

As they ascended, more of Ron's cries came from further up the stairs. His wails made the three rush up as fast they could, desperate to find their friend.

They looked in every room as they went, but each only held ruined couches and smashed mirrors. Until they found one on the very top floor. Ron was sitting on an ancient looking couch clutching onto Scabbers who wouldn't stop wriggling around. His leg was bleeding profusely.

"Ron!" they all exclaimed as they rushed over to him.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"The dog, where is it?" Harry asked in a hurry.

"Harry! y/n! It's a trap! He's the dog! He's an animagus!" Ron shouted like a madman, pointing behind them.

Slowly, the three of them turned around. They followed the footprints the dog left until they stopped at a pair of feet.

Human feet.

Standing hidden behind the door was a man. Or at least what looked like one. He was wearing torn up old rags as clothes which were grey and white striped with a thin looking coat over them. His skin was pale as a ghost and clung to his bones. His ribs were visible at his chest which adorned runic and intricate tattoos. In fact, he was covered in them. His face looked like a skeleton. With hollow cheeks and sunken eyes with a dark cast around them. His beard was rough and his hair was matted, but his dead grey eyes with a glint of madness were what told y/n who he was.

Sirius Black.

y/n's breath hitched and she held onto her wand so hard that her nails dug into her palm. Hermione jumped in front of Harry in an effort to shield him.

"If you want to kill Harry you'll have to kill us too!"

Black didn't even flinch, "No, only one will die tonight," he said in a husky and damaged voice.

"Then it'll be you!" Harry jumped out from behind Hermione and leapt at Black, tackling him to the ground. He pulled out his wand and pointed it straight at Black's neck.