A thick fog rolled in over the grounds of Hogwarts for some time. It was a heavy grey mist, and it floated over the windows like a veil, giving the illusion that Hogwarts was covered in a damp, thick blanket. With it came a strange sort of silence, and within the castle this silence seemed to have fallen as well. It was as though the feeling that the fog brought made it difficult for anyone to speak. Of course the fog was not entirely the cause of the silence, for it only enhanced the hush that was brought with the grave news that spread throughout Hogwarts. For Harry had talked to Dumbledore behind closed doors, and it was agreed that the following morning the students were to be told that death had descended upon the castle. That Professor Snape was dead. And so, they were told. Pinched faces and wide, troubled eyes had filled the hall at breakfast the morning the news was given, the grey mass of fog swirling overhead. Clocks seemed to stand still, and the banners in the Great Hall hung black. Yet, despite the clocks seeming to have stopped, time passed. The years marched on, and on, until only two classes at Hogwarts remembered the black casket being lowered into the ground, and the sound of rain on the lake beginning as the colour grey descended over them. Back then, the muddy ground over the grave was brown. Now, green grass covered it. The years had dulled the stone marker, and even the recollections of the sneer that belonged to Severus Snape became fuzzy with time, should you have chosen to ask any of those who knew him.

Yet, he was not gone. But only Harry and Dumbledore knew that. There were reminders everywhere of this, even if nobody else recognized them for what they were.

   There came a night, very still, very dark. A night exactly like those that the younger ones warned each other about when they whispered past curfew, telling hushed stories that had long ago sprouted from the things that happened on nights of the darkest kind. And Harry was restless, his eyes troubled. Almost recklessly, he snatched up his invisibility cloak and tucked it under his arm. The common room was silent as the grave, and Harry was just about to unfold his cloak and push open the portrait hole, when someone spoke.

 “Harry, don’t!” whispered a young boy, looking to be about twelve. Harry seemed a little surprised to see someone so young up so late, or to find anyone up at all, in fact.  

 “Hello Jason, I didn’t see you there,” Harry said calmly, turning, keeping the cloak safely behind his back. “It’s awfully late. Couldn’t sleep?

 “Harry, don’t go out. That … that thing will follow you.” Nervous and twisting the hem of his pyjama shirt, Jason stared wide eyed at Harry.

  Harry smiled in mild amusement. “I do not fear it, if that’s what you mean.”

 “But, it’ll follow you around wherever you go until -”

 “Until I go to bed, yeah,” Harry said. “I am familiar with the story.”

 “Aren’t you worried?” Jason whispered, in awe of Harry’s bravery.

 “No,” Harry replied simply.

 “Why not?”

 “Well, first of all, that ‘thing’ as you call it, always keeps its distance. Besides, have you ever noticed that the stories never say that someone was hurt by it, or has even seen it for that matter? People only ever claim to hear it.”

 “Yeah. But it is there, whatever it is.”

 “Of course. But you see … I rather like to think that on the quiet nights it wanders the halls, whatever it is just likes to make sure students stay safe at night. That’s why it never gets close, see?”

 “Maybe,” Jason said, looking rather thoughtful.

 “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

 Jason sighed. “Where are you going?”

 “Oh, just around,” said Harry. “I can’t sleep either.”

 “Okay. Well, I think I’ll go to bed.”

 “Good night then,” Harry said, stepping out of the portrait hole as Jason went up the boys’ staircase.

 “G’ night Harry, and be careful, okay?” Jason called over to Harry as he pushed open the portrait hole.

 “I will be.”

 Harry threw his invisibility cloak over himself as he went out into the corridor, chuckling slightly. Quietly he crept through the hallways, his invisibility cloak safely covering him. The cloak seemed considerably smaller on him now than it had his first year. Sometimes, if you really looked, and Harry wasn’t being as careful as he should, you could see a thin dark flash as he went around corners. A trainer, perhaps. But this was extremely hard to see, for the night was still and black. The soft sounds that Harry created as he crept down the halls were the only noises to be heard for some time. After a while however, Harry’s feet stopped moving. Beneath the invisibility cloak he rolled his eyes, though he seemed mildly amused. There was a light shuffling noise a ways behind him. Although there was no light to show what it was, Harry did not look too concerned, and did not even bother to pull out his wand to shed some light. He reached into his pocket to grab something, and Harry then thrust his arm outside of the cloak. He opened his hand, and something fell with a small clap upon the floor. Harry travelled forward with leisurely steps, until he was a fair distance away, and in a moment a soft clicking echoed behind him through the corridor. The clicking stopped near the object, which was a dog biscuit, of all things.

 “Oh, very clever,” a familiar voice drawled sardonically from within the darkness. “You shouldn’t be here.”

 “And neither should you.”

 “I am well aware of that. Now go back to bed, you delinquent.”

 Surprisingly, Harry held back a laugh, and then he good naturedly started slowly toward Gryffindor tower. “Git,” he muttered under his breath almost fondly.

 “I heard that.”

 “Of course you did. It’s good to see you, by the way.” Harry paused in his steps to look over his shoulder for a few moments.

 “It’s too dark here for me to be seen, you daft boy. Unless of course you also have night vision?”   Despite the rather biting words, the voice had a very small hint of amusement to it.

 “You know what I mean. Say hello to Dumbledore for me.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to know that you’ve been out of bed again!”

 Shaking his head with amusement, Harry swept around the corner. The sounds of his footsteps died away. The corridor remained completely quiet for a moment or two, until the crunching noise of a biscuit being chewed up punctuated the silence.