He stood in a dimly lit corridor, the flickering torchlight barely illuminating the rough stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of dust and something damp, almost moldy. A faint draft whispered through the hallway, carrying a distant breathing...
heavy, slow, and unnatural.
Ahead, a massive wooden door loomed, slightly ajar, as though someone had forgotten to close it properly. From beyond it came a deep, rumbling growl, low and warning.
A sense of unease crawled over Harry's skin. He wasn't alone.
He turned his head sharply, trying to focus on the shifting shadows at the edges of his vision.
A figure was there.
It was impossible to make out any features, but Harry could feel its presence, a cold, calculating gaze fixed on the door.
A whisper drifted through the air, distorted and fragmented. Not yet… The time will come… The path is not clear…
Harry took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to see more. Needed to understand.
The door creaked open further, and he caught a glimpse of something massive inside. Three heads, each bearing gleaming fangs, their golden eyes locked onto him. The beast was monstrous, unnatural.
Guarding something. But guarding what?
The whisper came again, but this time, it was harsher, urgent. Watch… but do not be seen…
The ground beneath Harry's feet gave way, and suddenly, he was falling.
The darkness swallowed him whole.
He woke with a sharp gasp, his breath coming in rapid bursts. The Ravenclaw dormitory was silent except for the steady breathing of his roommates. For a long moment, he lay there, staring at the canopy above his bed, his pulse racing.
This was no ordinary dream.
Something was trying to steal something hidden at Hogwarts. And whatever it was, it was dangerous enough to be protected by a beast like that.
The next morning, Harry still felt the weight of his vision pressing down on him. He barely touched his toast, instead pushing it around his plate as the chatter of the Great Hall buzzed around him.
Neville noticed first. "You look awful," he said bluntly, spooning some porridge into his mouth. "Didn't sleep well?"
Hermione, sitting across from them, frowned. "You do look pale," she agreed, lowering her voice slightly. "Nightmares?"
Harry hesitated. He glanced around at the students seated nearby, then shook his head. "Not here," he murmured. "Later."
Hermione exchanged a brief look with Neville before nodding. She didn't push, which Harry appreciated.
Instead, they focused on their class schedules for the day.
"We've got Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first," Hermione said, glancing at the parchment in front of her. "Then Charms before lunch, and Potions after."
Neville groaned. "Potions…"
Harry smirked despite himself. "Not looking forward to more Snape?"
"Not even a little," Neville muttered. "Last lesson, he spent half the class staring at you, and the other half making me nervous enough to nearly melt my cauldron."
Hermione huffed. "Honestly, he's a professor. He should be teaching, not intimidating people."
Harry simply nodded, though inwardly, he was still thinking about his dream.
As soon as they had free time, the trio retreated to the library. Between the towering bookshelves, in a quiet corner away from wandering students, Harry finally told them about his dream.
He left out the falling sensation at the end, but everything else: the corridor, the door, the monstrous three-headed dog, the whispering...
he recounted as clearly as he could.
Hermione listened with rapt attention, her eyes flickering with thought. "A three-headed dog? Guarding a trapdoor?" She frowned. "That has to be protecting something. But what could be so important that it needs that kind of security?"
Neville shifted uncomfortably. "You don't think it's dangerous, do you?"
Hermione shot him a flat look. "Neville, it's a giant three-headed dog. Of course, it's dangerous."
Harry was less concerned about the beast itself and more about who was after whatever it was guarding.
"The whisper… someone was speaking, but I couldn't see them," he said slowly. "It wasn't directed at me, I don't think. More like someone thinking out loud."
Neville bit his lip. "Could it be a professor?"
Harry frowned, considering it. "Maybe."
Hermione flipped open a book, scanning the pages rapidly. "The only well-documented three-headed dog is Cerberus, the guardian of the Underworld in Greek mythology. But those are just myths—well, were myths."
"Not anymore remember Hagrid raised one," Harry muttered.
"So someone put one in the castle," Hermione reasoned. "But why?"
No one had an answer.
Later that evening, as they made their way back to the Ravenclaw common room, the corridors were mostly empty. The castle always seemed to grow quieter at night, the flickering torchlight making the shadows stretch longer than they should.
As they turned a corner, they nearly collided with someone rushing in the opposite direction.
Professor Quirrell.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor flinched as if startled, his hands clutching his turban tightly. "O-oh! Excuse me, d-didn't see you there!" His voice was as jittery as ever, but his eyes—just for a brief moment—looked wary.
Harry's instincts prickled.
Quirrell glanced briefly toward the direction of the third-floor corridor before hastily stepping past them, disappearing around another corner.
The three of them exchanged glances.
"That was odd," Hermione said slowly.
Harry's mind was already working. He remembered Snape's expression during the feast when Dumbledore had mentioned the third-floor corridor. He remembered Quirrell's hesitation now.
Two professors. Both acting strangely.
Something was happening at Hogwarts.