MTLNOVEL Chapter 47: The Man in Black Robe
Peter cast another Disillusionment Charm over himself.
A translucent system panel flickered briefly before his eyes and then vanished, but he had already caught the changes in its display.
[Impersonation Spell Proficiency Increased]
[Disillusionment Charm – Level 1 (1/4)]
Two months into his first term, Peter had never slacked off in his spell practice.
Of course, his main focus remained on Potions.
In these two months, he had concentrated on mastering a small, carefully chosen set of spells.
His basic Shield Charm had reached Level 4 (0/16). The Disarming Charm had climbed to Level 3 (2/8). And the advanced spells he'd learned from Professor Snape a month earlier most notably the Blasting Curse, the Disillusionment Charm, and Sectumsempra had become his primary focus.
About a week ago, all three had reached Level 1, meaning he could now cast them reliably and with control.
After that, he didn't push for rapid improvement, instead maintaining steady daily practice. Increasing spell proficiency took time especially with Sectumsempra.
Though it was a Dark curse Snape had invented during his own school days, Peter suspected it drew heavily on his family's Dark Arts knowledge.
Compared to that, the Disillusionment Charm was far simpler. It was, after all, a standard piece of magic, and with Peter's knack for spellwork, he had mastered the basics quickly.
As he moved, he paid close attention to the subtle shifts in sensation that came with casting the charm, stepping as lightly as possible along the staircases and corridors.
At this hour, Hogwarts felt empty and still, and every sound seemed to echo endlessly through its winding passageways.
Peter tapped his wand lightly against his ear, casting a charm to heighten his hearing.
This was one of the many little tricks he had picked up from his frequent trips to the library over the past two months proof that useful spells could turn up in the unlikeliest corners of old books.
Most of them weren't particularly powerful. Many were little more than pranks.
For instance, the sound transmission charm he'd placed on both himself and Ron earlier, and the ear-enlarging charm he was using now, had both come from a single sheet of yellowed parchment titled:
Ten Spells to Cheat on Exams.
A handwritten note in neat cursive had been added at the bottom:
Thank you, Mr. McLaggen, for your tireless efforts in compiling these. I shall be recommending to Professor McGonagall that she add them to our official list of anti-cheating spells. Yours faithfully, Albus Dumbledore, Professor of Transfiguration.
Poor Mr. McLaggen had surely been the stuff of cautionary tales ever since but Peter had found plenty of new uses for his "legacy."
He listened intently and soon caught the sound of hurried footsteps.
They passed somewhere overhead, climbing to the third floor, then to the fourth.
Peter quickened his pace. But upon reaching the third floor, he suddenly froze, startled.
There was another sound a faint voice, laced with the chatter of clenched teeth.
It was coming from the Charms classroom on the fourth floor, barely audible even under Quirrell's hurried footsteps.
"…Harry… what's wrong with you…"
"It hurts… my head hurts…"
It was Harry and Hermione!
Five minutes earlier, the two of them had been on their way to look for Peter and Ron, who still didn't know about the troll.
At first, everything had gone according to plan. They managed to slip away from Percy without attracting attention and left the group unnoticed.
But almost immediately, they ran into a problem. They had no idea where Peter had taken Ron. They wandered aimlessly from the second floor to the third, their initial burst of determination quickly fading.
Hermione was the first to recover her senses. She stopped on the stairs, lowered her voice, and tried to reason with Harry.
"Tell Percy about this and have him get the professors. It's better than the two of us just wandering around like this."
Harry hesitated. He knew she was right.
And yet, for reasons he couldn't explain, his mind felt muddled clouded by a strange, insistent urge.
Go up one more level.
Go to the fourth floor.
The thought seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside him, as if whispered into his mind. It carried with it a thrill a rush of excitement, anticipation, and certainty that something important awaited him there.
The feeling was so strong, so intoxicating, that resisting it felt nearly impossible.
"Let's go up one more floor," Harry urged. "Just to check the fourth floor. If nothing's there, we'll go to the professors."
Hermione, though reluctant, finally agreed.
To Harry's disappointment, when they reached the fourth floor and searched for a while, they found nothing unusual. He was just beginning to wrestle down the strange compulsion when they heard footsteps coming from the staircase.
In the dim light, they exchanged a quick glance. Whether it was Percy or a professor, they couldn't be seen Gryffindor had lost enough points already.
Hermione spotted the Charms classroom and tugged Harry inside.
They crouched behind the door, peering through the narrow crack.
In the gloom of the corridor, a tall, hooded figure moved quickly along.
Who is that?
The poor light and narrow view made it hard to tell, but one thing was certain at this hour, with the students in their common rooms and the professors searching the dungeons, no one had any business being on the fourth floor.
And if someone was here, what were they looking for?
Harry's mind leapt to the locked room at the end of the corridor the one guarded by the three-headed dog, hiding a trapdoor. Could that be where the Philosopher's Stone was kept?
He glanced at Hermione, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock.
Harry leaned forward, determined to see who it was.
Ignoring Hermione's frantic shake of the head, Harry eased the door open and leaned out.
The black-robed figure had reached the middle of the corridor, and from this angle Harry could only see his back.
But the instant that back came into view, an indescribable pain exploded from the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead, lancing through his skull and spreading like fire.
It was an agony so intense and searing that it felt as though someone had driven a red-hot axe deep into his head.
His body convulsed, and he collapsed to the floor.
His vision blurred into a swirling haze, and through the pain he heard Hermione's panicked cry:
"Harry! Harry, what's wrong with you?"
"It hurts my head hurts…" Harry groaned, fighting the urge to scream outright. He felt Hermione tugging at him, dragging him away from the door, as if terrified the figure might notice them.
But it was already too late. Through his watery, pain-clouded vision, Harry saw the black-robed figure pause mid-step.
Perhaps it was the tears from the pain, but the figure seemed warped and distorted, the entire corridor around him twisting like something from a nightmare. Light and shadow writhed violently across the man's back as though the air itself was being bent.
Hiss…
Hiss…
A rasping sound slithered through the corridor the black-robed man's voice, low and cold, like a venomous snake.
Then he began to turn. The warped light and shadows vanished in an instant.
Harry's breathing was ragged, but just as quickly as the pain had come, it faded. Even so, the danger was far from over.
The black-robed man lifted his wand sharply.
"Stupefy "
But before the Stunning Spell could be completed, another figure appeared beside Harry, and a clear, youthful voice rang out:
"Expelliarmus!"
It was Peter!
From seemingly nowhere, a brilliant jet of red light shot forward, blazing across the corridor.
The spell slammed toward the black-robed man, forcing him to snap his wand back and slice it sharply through the air.
"Protego!"
A translucent shield sprang up just in time. The Disarming Spell struck hard against it, making the barrier shudder and ripple.
The force of the impact was clearly greater than the man in black had anticipated the shield flickered under the strain.