By: HogwartsHierarchies
Harry's breath caught, and every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire again, but this time it wasn't just the dark magic lingering in the air. It was something else—something foreign and unknown, prickling at the edges of his senses like an approaching storm. His chest rose and fell quickly, each breath a sharp inhale of the cold, stale air that filled the cell. He kept his eyes locked on Snape's face, watching as the man's expression shifted from strained control to a hardened mask of concentration.
Snape's gaze flicked over Harry's shoulder, his eyes narrowing as if he was calculating something unseen. The tension between them hadn't broken—if anything, it had grown sharper, more palpable, as though the air itself was tightening around them. Harry could feel the press of Snape's body still pinning him to the wall, their breaths shallow, almost synchronized. But the longer they stood there, frozen in place, the more it became clear that something was watching them—something dark and ancient, lurking just beyond their immediate reach.
"Potter," Snape hissed, his voice barely above a whisper, but the sharp edge of authority cut through the air between them. "Don't react. Whatever it is… it's feeding off the magic."
Harry's fingers twitched, instinct pulling him toward his wand, but he knew better than to move. His muscles remained taut, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He could feel the presence now too, the dark pulse of magic that had filled the cell moments before seemed to shift, hovering just out of sight, coiling around them like an invisible predator waiting to strike.
The shadows in the cell seemed to thicken, growing heavier as the moments stretched on. Harry's heart pounded in his chest, the sound of it loud in his ears. He focused on controlling his breath, but the weight of the darkness around them pressed down like a physical force.
"Do you see it?" Harry whispered, his eyes darting around the dim space, scanning for movement.
Snape didn't answer immediately, his jaw tightening as his gaze swept the room. His grip on Harry's arm tightened slightly, not out of fear, but something else—something calculated, as though he was silently assessing their chances. The air was stifling, cold and sharp, and Harry could feel it crawling along his skin, like something ancient was dragging its claws through the very atmosphere around them.
"There," Snape finally muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing toward the far corner of the cell. Harry followed his gaze, squinting through the dim light, but at first, he saw nothing.
Then, something moved.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible at first—a shift in the shadows, darker than the surrounding gloom. But as Harry focused, the shape began to take form. It wasn't human. Whatever it was, it clung to the walls like an extension of the stone itself, its form barely distinguishable from the darkness around it. But it pulsed, like a living thing. A creature made of shadow and magic, its presence as oppressive as the magic that had taken hold of Harry moments before.
"What the hell is that?" Harry breathed, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to keep it steady.
"Stay still," Snape ordered, his voice cutting through the rising panic in Harry's chest. "It's drawn to movement… and power."
The creature slithered closer, its form undulating as though it was more shadow than flesh. Harry could feel it now, the weight of its presence pressing down on him, making his skin crawl. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the urge to bolt, to do something. Anything. But he trusted Snape's judgment—at least, for now.
They stayed frozen, both of them locked in place as the creature moved along the edge of the cell, its form shifting and pulsing like the darkness itself had come to life. Harry's heart thudded in his chest, his pulse quickening as the thing drew closer, its cold magic creeping along the floor, snaking toward them.
"Potter," Snape murmured, his voice barely audible, "whatever happens, don't—"
Before he could finish, the creature lunged.
It happened so fast that Harry barely registered it. The dark mass of magic shot forward, a surge of cold, thick energy that crashed into them with the force of a tidal wave. Snape's grip on Harry's arm tightened as the two of them were slammed backward into the stone wall. The impact knocked the breath from Harry's lungs, his head spinning as the creature's magic wrapped around them, its cold tendrils sinking into his skin like frostbite.
The creature slithered closer, its form undulating as though it was more shadow than flesh. Harry could feel it now, the weight of its presence pressing down on him, making his skin crawl. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the urge to bolt, to do something. Anything. But he trusted Snape's judgment—at least, for now.
They stayed frozen, both of them locked in place as the creature moved along the edge of the cell, its form shifting and pulsing like the darkness itself had come to life. Harry's heart thudded in his chest, his pulse quickening as the thing drew closer, its cold magic creeping along the floor, snaking toward them.
"Potter," Snape murmured, his voice barely audible, "whatever happens, don't—"
Before he could finish, the creature lunged.
It happened so fast that Harry barely registered it. The dark mass of magic shot forward, a surge of cold, thick energy that crashed into them with the force of a tidal wave. Snape's grip on Harry's arm tightened as the two of them were slammed backward into the stone wall. The impact knocked the breath from Harry's lungs, his head spinning as the creature's magic wrapped around them, its cold tendrils sinking into his skin like frostbite.
Instinctively, Harry raised his hand, summoning a shield charm, but the magic crackled and fizzled as soon as it left his fingertips, swallowed by the darkness. Snape was quicker—his wand flicked through the air, casting a barrier between them and the creature, but even his magic faltered against the sheer power of it.
The creature hissed, a low, guttural sound that echoed through the small space. Its form writhed and twisted, shifting like smoke in the wind as it tried to push through Snape's barrier, its shadowy tendrils snaking around the edges, seeking an opening.
"We need to move," Snape growled, his voice strained as he fought to maintain the shield. His eyes darted to Harry, and for the first time, Harry saw something close to fear in the man's gaze.
But they were trapped. The creature was closing in, its dark magic pressing against them, suffocating them.
Harry could feel the weight of it bearing down on him, dragging him toward the edge of something deep and primal.
The darkness thickened, pressing closer, like it was trying to smother them where they stood. Harry could feel it—a living, breathing entity, more than just magic, more than just shadow. It wanted something, something it could pull from the deepest parts of him. His body was shaking, not just from fear, but from the effort of holding back whatever the creature was feeding on—the magic it was desperate to consume.
Snape's face was tight with concentration, his wand raised, the barrier flickering and crackling against the relentless assault. The creature hissed again, a cold, guttural sound that seemed to reverberate through the walls of the prison, the stones themselves vibrating with the force of it. Harry could barely think beyond the oppressive weight of the thing's presence.
"We can't hold it," Harry managed to rasp out, his voice barely more than a breath. His wand trembled in his hand as the shield charm threatened to collapse under the weight of the creature's magic.
Snape's jaw clenched, his voice sharp, urgent. "Then stop trying to hold it, Potter. We need to force it back."
Harry's heart raced, the darkness pushing against him, pulling at him like it was trying to drag him into its core. He knew what Snape meant, but the sheer force of the creature's power was suffocating—it felt like fighting an ocean, an endless, crushing tide of magic and shadow. Still, he didn't have a choice. The alternative was letting this thing take them both, and he refused to be its prey.
Harry tightened his grip on his wand, summoning every ounce of focus he could muster, ignoring the cold seeping into his bones, the overwhelming sense of dread crawling beneath his skin. He couldn't fight this thing head-on. If it was feeding on their power, then giving it more magic was only making it stronger.
"I've got an idea," Harry said through clenched teeth, his eyes flicking to Snape. "We need to disrupt it—confuse it, make it lose its grip."
Snape's dark eyes narrowed, calculating, understanding in an instant. "You're suggesting we create a surge?"
Harry nodded, his body tense with effort. "If it's feeding on magic, we overload it—give it more than it can handle, something it can't control."
Snape's gaze flicked to the creature, which had nearly pressed through their weakened barrier, its shadowy tendrils coiling and snapping like serpents. "That's a gamble, Potter."
Harry managed a thin smile, despite the fear gnawing at him. "I've made worse bets."
Snape's lip curled slightly, but it wasn't quite a sneer. More like reluctant agreement. "Very well," he muttered, his voice low. "On three."
Harry braced himself, feeling the magic surge inside him as he prepared for the onslaught. Snape adjusted his grip on his wand, the tension between them electric, the weight of their combined magic growing in the small space. The creature pulsed, sensing the shift in power, its hissing growing louder, more aggressive.
"One…" Snape's voice was steady, controlled, though Harry could see the strain in his face, the way his muscles tensed beneath his black robes.
"Two…" Harry felt the magic coil tighter, building like a wave ready to break.
"Three!"
In perfect synchronization, Harry and Snape released their magic, not to attack, but to flood the space around them with a burst of raw, uncontained energy. The magic exploded outward, a blinding flash of light and sound that reverberated through the cell like a thunderclap. The creature shrieked, a high-pitched, unnatural wail that pierced the air as the surge of power slammed into it, forcing it back.
For a moment, the darkness writhed, its form twisting and convulsing as the magic overwhelmed it. Harry could feel it losing its grip, the shadows retreating as the force of their combined magic broke through its hold. The creature recoiled, its tendrils snapping back like burnt paper curling in on itself, pulling away from them, retreating toward the far corner of the cell.
It hissed again, a sharp, angry sound that echoed through the stone walls. Then, with a final screech, it fled—its form dissolving into a mass of swirling shadows that shot through the narrow cracks in the cell's stone walls, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Harry collapsed back against the wall, his body trembling from the effort. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his wand as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His mind spun, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but the oppressive weight of the creature was gone. For now.
Snape stood rigid beside him, his wand still raised, though his breathing was just as labored. His face was pale, his black eyes hard as they scanned the room, searching for any lingering sign of the creature. But there was nothing left—just the cold, empty cell and the faint echo of the creature's retreating wail.
Harry swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Did… did it just run away?"
Snape didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the dark corners of the cell, his expression unreadable, before he finally lowered his wand. "It fled," he said curtly, though there was no satisfaction in his voice. "For now."
Harry nodded, pushing himself up from the wall, his legs unsteady but functional. "So… what was that?"
Snape's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing as if he were weighing how much to tell Harry. "Something old," he said after a long pause. "Something ancient that has no business being here."
Harry's brow furrowed. "You've seen it before?"
"Not quite," Snape replied, his tone clipped. "But I've felt it. That magic—it's not normal. It's something darker, something that doesn't belong in this prison."
Harry's mind raced as he tried to piece it together. The creature wasn't just any dark magic—this was something deeper, older, and far more dangerous than he had anticipated. The way it had fed on their magic, the way it had responded to their power… it wasn't acting like any dark creature he had ever encountered.
Snape turned to face him fully, his eyes sharp, calculating. "Whatever that was, Potter, it's not over. This thing—this force—it's been here for longer than we've known. And it won't stop until it's finished what it started."
Harry's pulse quickened. "And what exactly has it started?"
Snape's gaze darkened, his voice low, almost a growl. "That's what we need to find out."
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Snape raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You nearly got yourself killed."
"Yeah," Harry said, his voice casual, "but I didn't. That's got to count for something."
Snape's fingers tightened slightly around his glass, his gaze hardening. "Your arrogance will be the death of you one day, Potter."
Harry leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Is that concern I hear? Didn't think you cared."
Snape's eyes flashed dangerously, but Harry could see the tension in his shoulders relax, just a little. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Too late," Harry teased, taking a slow sip of his drink, his gaze never leaving Snape's. He could feel the tension between them shifting, like a current running beneath the surface—sharp, charged, but not hostile. It was something else, something he couldn't quite place.