Harry's twin || Between Light and Shadow

Chapter 20: Diggory

She had heard it before, once before the first attack, and earlier in the bathroom, an eerie hissing that she couldn't understand but instinctively knew was wrong. She had convinced herself it was a trick of her imagination. But hearing it again—just beyond the stone, winding through the corridors—made her skin crawl.

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling of the Slytherin dormitory, she knew there was no use trying to sleep.

She needed answers. And there was only one person she could turn to right now.

Slipping out of bed, she grabbed her robes and pulled them over her nightgown, shivering slightly as her bare feet touched the cold floor. She glanced toward the other beds, relieved that her dormmates were sound asleep.

The Slytherin common room was empty, save for the embers glowing in the fireplace. Unlike the Gryffindor Tower, there was no portrait guarding the entrance—no one to stop her.

She stepped out into the dungeon corridors, the air heavy with dampness. Shadows flickered along the walls as she made her way toward the Potions classroom, her heartbeat steady but alert.

The castle felt different at night.

The usual hum of life—the chatter of students, the distant footsteps of moving staircases—was gone, leaving only an eerie stillness.

Daisy walked with purpose, trying to ignore the way the torchlight cast long, shifting shadows along the stone walls.

Then, she heard it again.

The whisper.

A long, serpentine murmur, slithering just beyond the surface of the stone. It sent a shiver straight down her spine.

She froze, holding her breath.

It was close. Somewhere in the walls. But no matter how hard she strained to listen, she couldn't make out the words. It was a good, though. As every time it had shouted or spoke loudly, it was out for a kill.

Daisy swallowed hard and forced herself to move, quickening her pace toward the Potions classroom.

When she finally reached the classroom, she hesitated at the door. It was dark—much darker than she was used to seeing during the day. Without the warm glow of candlelight, the room looked cold, uninviting. The desks were nothing but faint silhouettes against the gloom.

But a faint light seeped from beneath Snape's office door.

That was a good sign.

She knocked lightly, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Professor, it's Daisy Evans."

For a brief moment, silence. Then—

"Come in."

Snape's voice was sharp as ever, though edged with tiredness.

Daisy quickly slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

Snape sat behind his desk, a stack of parchment before him, his quill still poised in his hand. His brow was furrowed, and the candlelight cast deep shadows across his face. Judging by the scowl on his lips, he had been grading papers—and not particularly enjoying it.

His dark eyes flicked up to her.

"Seeing as you are here," he said coolly, setting down his quill, "it seems my advice has once again failed to sink into that thick skull of yours."

Daisy winced. She then remembered his advice against wandering the castle alone.

"Sorry, sir," she muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Snape steepled his fingers, unimpressed. "I highly doubt you came here at this hour to apologize."

"No, sir." She took a breath. "It happened again. And I've noticed a pattern."

Snape's gaze sharpened. "Go on."

Daisy hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Every time I'm near Ginny Weasley, I start feeling... dizzy. It's like something presses on me, crawling under my skin." She frowned. "At first, I thought it was just in my head, but earlier today she—she looked worse than ever. She's pale, tired, very ghostly. It's getting worse."

Snape tilted his head, intrigued. "Ginny Weasley, you say?"

"Yes, sir." She hesitated. "I—I don't know if this is connected, but I keep hearing something. A voice. It sounds like it's inside the walls."

At this, Snape's expression darkened, but he remained silent for a long moment, his fingers tapping against his desk in thought.

"Good work, Miss Evans," he finally said, his voice quiet but firm. "Very perceptive."

Daisy blinked. She wasn't used to hearing that from him.

"I'll inform Professor Dumbledore," he continued, rising from his chair. "In the meantime, I expect you to exercise better judgment in the future." His dark gaze settled on her meaningfully. "No more wandering the castle at night."

Daisy nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure she could promise that. "Thank you, sir." Daisy turned around about to make her way back to her room.

Snape let out a slow breath, then eyed her robes, clearly noting the fact that she had thrown them over her nightgown.

He sighed.

"It seems my advice continues to be disregarded. I'll walk you back, Miss Evans."

"Oh—thank you, sir," Daisy said, suddenly feeling guilty. He looked exhausted, and she had just pulled him from his work.

But as she glanced up at him, the usual hard edge in his expression softened.

For all his sharp words, for all his snide remarks—he was protecting her.