ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

49〝forty-nine〞

AN AUDIENCE WITH SNAPE TEMPORARILY out of the question, Ellis debated whether she should hold off until the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was over to discuss her latest "clues" with Cedric. She hated to sidetrack him from the game, but half-doubted if he would be in the mood after, because she had a sickening sense that his side was going to lose (though she figured he would be eager to help her in any case). Saturday just felt strangely unlucky. Of course, she did not tell him this, but wrote:

Go knock Potter out with your smile!

In the end, Ellis opted to wait; a preoccupied Seeker could very well be the reason of Hufflepuff's defeat, which she wasn't going to risk—or be blamed for, again. Besides, Ginny could probably last another two days; her detention with Snape wasn't until the following week.

There was a slight conflict in Slytherin House as to whom they ought to be supporting at this match. By default, they always cheered on the non-Gryffindor team. However, seeing as Hufflepuff would overtake Slytherin in the Championship if they so much as caught the Snitch, the choice wasn't so straightforward. Their best bet (as Flint had outlined during training) was that Gryffindor got the Snitch without scoring and before Hufflepuff bagged a hundred points. This way, Slytherin could maintain their lead. But any Slytherin supporting Gryffindor—let alone their Seeker, Harry Potter, who seemed, to them, infamous enough without his name being highly besmirched by the year's events—was as likely as the sun rising from the west.

Ellis was grateful to be spared the dilemma: she knew perfectly which team—or rather, which player—she would be rooting for, even if only covertly.

Saturday dawned almost the same as the last, with the exception of clearer skies. The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was a picturesque shade of blue interspersed with fluffy streaks of white as Ellis loaded up her plate with fried eggs and bacon. No sooner had she finished eating than the Hufflepuff team rose to leave. Habitually, Cedric glanced over, and catching his eye, Ellis smiled a little wider than normal to indicate her encouragement—she knew Cedric would be able to tell. He grinned.

When the squad was out of sight, Ellis stood up and exited herself. There was still fifteen minutes to fly-off, and she had in her pocket a box of chocolate sprinkles she wanted to share with Glynnis. After all, the poor owl's life had not been as idle as she was initially promised. The albino bird was asleep when Ellis arrived at the Owlery, so Ellis simply deposited the treat into the container by her perch and decided she would start heading to the Quidditch pitch.

She was approaching the top of the marble staircase when she froze, distracted by a very odd, hair-raising voice. It was odd not only because it was icier even than Professor Snape's iciest voice—which was definitely saying something—but also because it sounded somewhat distorted, and seemed to have traveled to her through the floor.

"Kill this time...let me rip...tear..."

"The voice!" someone else shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Ellis instinctively dived behind the wall she had only recently passed. "I just heard it again—didn't you?"

Furtively, Ellis peered over the banister downward: Ron Weasley looked shocked, Hermione Granger's palm was plastered to her forehead, and back-facing Ellis was boy whose black hair stuck up behind. Surely, this was Harry Potter himself, for Granger addressed him so as she told him she had understood something and had to visit the library, and began bounding up the stairs two at a time.

Granger disappeared down the farther end of the corridor. Potter mounted steps to the third floor and beyond—Ellis briefly wondered if he had heard the peculiar voice continue that way? It would be impressive if he did, because she could hardly discern anything over the noise that was people thronging out of the Great Hall. Weasley departed with them, and Ellis forced herself to follow.

Whatever the voice was, it was none of her concern. She could have misheard it for all she knew—it hadn't been very distinct. Moreover, "kill," "rip," and "tear" could simply be figures of speech. She reminded herself that she was at Hogwarts to study. Cedric was a surprising and pleasant bonus, and she should be going to watch him play, to reciprocate the support he had so often given her. Other than his, she should only have mind for her own business. Potter was the meddler; he was probably already onto it. He could be the hero all he wanted; Ellis didn't care for that. If he didn't make it to the match, it would be all the better for Cedric—though arguably not so good for Slytherin.

But things never did go her way. Ellis had only set foot on the first step when her bacon and eggs seemed to churn in a manner that had nothing to do with digestion.

It was the same spine-chilling voice. Only this time, it was louder, and overhead.

"Come...come to me..."

Wheeling around, Ellis wandered to the point under the stone ceiling whence she imagined the voice had emanated. Subjects of all the portraits beneath it evidently hadn't heard; she didn't think they could be having such a jolly chat otherwise. She stared upwards, frowning. Theories ricocheted off the inside of her head: an invisible person who could get upstairs unnoticed, a ghost who could glide through stone as easily as humans walked through air... None of these, however, Ellis reckoned, would sound that much different from an ordinary wizard. Unless it was the walls that induced the warping? But even that seemed far-fetched too.

"...kill...time to kill..."

There was no mistaking it now.

Eyes dilating and heartbeat accelerating, Ellis was gripped by terror. The voice was moving to her left, in the direction of the library—and it was going to kill? But before anything else another voice made her jump.

"Ellis!"

It was Rolf.

Although he had been very taciturn around Ellis since Valentine's Day, the turn of events that was the school finally accepting her had him so excited that he had shed his reticent shell. Part of Ellis was glad for this, because for someone whose talkativeness had once almost driven her crazy, it was incredibly awkward that he didn't even say hi to her in class, though blushed furiously (that didn't change).

Now, however, she wished he hadn't. He couldn't have chosen a more inopportune time to show up. As Rolf ran up the stairs to meet her, someone hurtled past him going down—it was Potter and his Nimbus. So he had just gone to retrieve his broom...he hadn't been chasing the voice...and now it was going to kill...

"You're not going to the library, now?" said Rolf. "It's matchday!"

"...rip...tear...so hungry..."

The unchanged expression of thrill on Rolf's face was a clear sign that he hadn't picked up the bizarre, blood-curdling voice either. There was no reason to alarm him, then, Ellis thought.

"I-I've just got to check something real quick," she said. "Er—save me a seat?"

"Okay!" he replied, beaming. "But hurry!"

Watching Rolf scamper down the stairs and be swept out the oak front doors by the last of the crowd heading to the game, Ellis hastened towards the library, her ears poised to detect the voice again. But now that she was ready, it seemed reluctant to reveal itself. For several desolate passages she heard nothing but her own footsteps, and then—

"I smell blood...I smell blood..."

"No," gasped Ellis.

And she pelted up the hallway, skidding around the corner where the voice had gone, only to crash, without warning, into something.