NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 7: Repeat
They took the next few minutes to recon the surrounding corridors quickly.
Harry led Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean in a sweep of the passage outside, checking for hidden nooks and behind closed doors.
Normally, Peeves the poltergeist might have popped up—or the Bloody Baron might have lurked in the shadows—but there was no sign of any ghostly presence.
"The ghosts… Has anyone seen even one?" Harry asked.
Seamus shook his head. "Not a one. S'like they vanished with the adults."
The absence left Harry unsettled.
What kind of ward got activated that even the ghosts disappeared?
When they returned to the kitchens, they found Ernie fiddling with a small bell near the door. "If someone crosses this threshold while we're away, it'll trigger a shrieking sound," he explained.
"Smart," Dean said approvingly. "Almost like the Sneakoscope we used a while back."
Harry set his wand against the doorframe, murmuring a few incantations, the last of which was 'Protego Totalum'.
A thin shimmer of light flared and then vanished.
"That should reinforce the door. Hopefully, it'll hold until someone can respond."
Ernie raised an eyebrow. "You know your wards," he said curtly, but Harry caught the glimmer of respect underneath.
"You learn a thing or two when near Dumbledore," Harry replied with a wry smile.
Ernie was just about to ask for what else Harry knew when a sudden, silvery blur swooped into the kitchen—a bright otter Patronus, shimmering and agile as it glided through the air.
It landed before Harry, opening its small mouth to speak in Hermione's voice:
"Harry! We've run into trouble at the library. That Ravenclaw group from earlier is trying to claim it for themselves. We can't let them lock it down—there's too much at stake here. We're at a stalemate, and we need help. Come quickly!"
The Patronus vanished, leaving a hush in its wake.
Ron let out a frustrated growl. "So much for quietly sitting in the kitchens. Now we've got a fight over the library too."
Harry scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion pulling at him.
"We can't lose the library. If a group claims it, they'll control every spell book and every bit of knowledge we might need to get out of here."
Ernie frowned at him. "Are you leaving, then?"
Harry nodded. "I have to. Hermione's with some of the sixth-years and the seventh-year girls, but apparently they aren't enough. We'll go there, deal with the situation, and then I'll send some people back."
"We'll handle things here while you do that then," Ernie said, sounding surprisingly resolute. He hesitated, then added, "If anything goes sideways, send a patronus."
"I will," Harry promised.
He glanced back at Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean. "Let's go."
"Be careful," Ernie urged as they turned around to leave again.
Harry gave him a tight nod and turned for the exit.
As the five Gryffindors slipped out into the corridor again, Harry couldn't shake the sense of dread settling over him.
"Neville, as soon as this is over, you need to start growing stuff because we can't keep relying on the Hufflepuffs. We need our own food source," Harry said, fearing the possible backstab.
Neville nodded grimly. "I'll get on it as soon as we sort this out."
"Let's move," he said grimly, leading them at a run.
They had one more front to secure in a school that felt more like a battleground every passing hour…
The corridors leading to the library seemed darker than before—perhaps because the five Gryffindors were moving at such a frantic pace, or perhaps because there truly were fewer lights burning in the sconces.
Harry could still see the faint golden lines tracing their way along the walls, the magical threads that had shown up after the adults disappeared, casting dancing patterns across the cold stone.
What are these lines? Why are there so many damned questions? Harry wondered, shaking his head to clear away both the mounting frustration and the exhaustion threatening to drag him down.
He hadn't slept properly since the day before coming to Hogwarts, and it was starting to take its toll.
Still, there was no time for rest—not with the library situation demanding immediate attention.
Every time they seemed to get a handle on a problem, three more popped up to take their place…
They reached the familiar oak doors of the library to find them wide open—and a tense standoff just inside.
The familiar group, mostly consisting of Ravenclaws, all wore determined expressions and faced off against Hermione's group.
Before Harry came with the rest of the older Gryffindors, the two groups were evenly matched in number.
The numbers now tilted heavily in favour of Gryffindor, though Harry wished it hadn't come to counting wands at all.
Still, he couldn't deny feeling relieved at having a backup as he assessed the tense scene before him.
"There's Harry!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly at their sudden entrance.
For a second, his gaze lingered on her hair—fiery strands glinting in the low torchlight—then travelled to the determination in her eyes, and he felt a flicker of warmth despite the tense standoff.
She smiled at him, the tension in her posture easing a fraction.
A curious mixture of relief and guilt twisted in his chest.
Relief, because he trusted Ginny's wandwork and her level-headedness more than almost anyone there.
Guilt, because he could barely remember the last time they'd had a spare moment to talk properly.
He couldn't recall if he'd even managed to ask how she was holding up under the strain of it all…
The Ravenclaw group wasn't as excited about them coming, though.
They whipped around, alarm flickering across their faces.
Harry recognised Terry Boot among them—he had always seemed levelheaded, but now his eyes were narrowed with an intensity that reminded Harry that desperation could bring out surprising sides in people.
"Harry," Hermione called relief mixing with urgency in her tone. "We've managed to keep them from sealing off the library, but they aren't backing down."
Terry Boot shifted, wand still raised but angled away from Hermione's group. "We're not trying to hog everything!" he protested. "But we can't let vital spellbooks fall into the wrong hands. People are forming groups all over the castle—you've seen it yourselves. If we don't secure the library, someone else will."
Harry was starting to get annoyed with the knowledge everyone seemed to possess.
Were we the only ones who went to sleep?
"And you think you should be the ones to claim it?" Ron retorted, stepping forward with a challenging glare. "Just because you got here first?"
"We never said that," shot back a Ravenclaw girl Harry vaguely recognised from Charms class but wasn't sure about her name.
Lisa something, he thought, wracking his brain to remember her last name.
Lisa Turpin—Harry suddenly remembered—stood her ground defiantly, her wand still raised.
"But it's no secret that Slytherins have a head start on everyone else. They might come here, too. Why shouldn't Ravenclaw ensure knowledge doesn't get misused?"
"Because knowledge belongs to all of us, not to a single house," Hermione said very fiercely.
Terry Boot's gaze flickered, and he exchanged uncertain looks with the others in his group.
For a moment, Harry thought they might just turn around and leave, considering their number disadvantage.
But then, a Ravenclaw girl, who Harry didn't know, straightened her shoulders.
"We have to ensure that no one side can weaponise this place," she said, her voice trembling slightly with conviction. "We only came to lock it up until everyone could agree on rules."
Not this shit again, Harry thought, barely resisting an eye roll.
How many more groups would he have to negotiate with before the night was over?
...
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