Better Be Slytherin!

everything else that he'd quite forgotten. Now he said, 'Yes, sir?'

The ghost's mouth curved, opening wide like a rictus more than a smile. 'I did not expect you, of all people, to find a place in my House.'

With an almost impatient sigh, Harry said, 'Yeah, I get that a lot.'

Surprising him, the Bloody Baron tipped his head back and laughed, a full-throated joyous sound that made Harry's head reel. 'Ah, Mr. Potter, thank you,' the Bloody baron said as he wound down. 'I have not found such amusement in a stone's age.'

'Er, you're welcome.' Harry peered through the ghost at the corridor behind him, at the same wondering if doing so was considered rude. 'Could you, er, tell me where I ended up? I seem to be a bit lost.'

'I should say so.'

Harry was pretty sure the Bloody Baron wasn't talking about just tonight, but he didn't feel like getting into some kind of weird philosophical discussion with a ghost, so he ignored that jibe and said, 'I'm meant to be back at my common room, now. For a study group.'

'Of course,' the Bloody Baron said and stared into his eyes. The ghost's eyes were black holes, like the entrance to a cave in which something deadly lived and breathed and drew unwary victims in.

A cold feeling enveloped Harry from toes to ears. He shivered and backed away from the ghost, until he came flush against the wall behind him. 'What do you want?'

'What we all want, Mr. Potter.' The dark caves narrowed, trapping the lurking danger inside. 'Peace.'

With that, the ghost floated right through Harry, raising goosebumps all over his skin and making him feel bloody and exhausted and bruised, as if he'd been in a fight. One he'd lost. But before Harry could turn or make a sound or call him back to explain himself, the Baron vanished through the wall behind him.

Harry leant against the wall for a long moment, catching his breath. Using the smooth, damp stone for support, he forced his feet to move, one after the other, until he was well away from that cul de sac. It took forever, it seemed like, before he finally reached an area he recognized. Aside from still panting a little and with a trace of a hitch in chest when he breathed, he was mostly recovered by the time he entered the common room at last – or as much as he could be after being run through by a ghost. He made his way directly to the table he and his study group used each night. . . but no one was there.

And the common room was oddly quiet, too, especially for this first Friday. Only a few older students lurked about in corners . . . including a couple snogging in the shadows near the corridor to the girls' dorm. Harry had expected a lot more activity. Wouldn't everyone be excited about the end of the first week of school? Teddy had said as much, when commiserating with Harry over his week's worth of detentions.

Checking the time on the mantel clock over the fireplace, though, Harry shocked, but he understood why it was so quiet. How in the world had it gotten to be 2 am?

It had been the Bloody baron, he was sure of it. Something weird had happened when the ghost went through him. But he didn't remember anything . . .

'Potter!' a voice said behind him, and Harry jumped, turning around for the second time that night to face something less than pleasant. This time, the person was very much alive, and very, very angry. Snape continued, 'To what do I owe . . .' before he suddenly trailed off, eyes widening. 'Come with me,' he ordered, then turned on his heel and marched back out the portrait door and along the corridor toward his office.

More exhausted than he could ever explain, Harry just sighed and trailed after him, through the dark corridors, and through the door that slammed open to admit them both to Snape's office.