060 The Scream from the Shadows

Harry walked cautiously in a narrow corridor that was barely ten feet wide, feeling the cold and damp walls and ceiling pressing on him from both sides. The walls were covered with patches of different colors, as if they had been stained by some unknown substances over the years. The ceiling was so low that Harry had to stoop slightly to avoid hitting his head on the protruding stones.

The corridor was darker than any place Harry had ever seen before. The only source of light was a faint glimmer that barely reached his feet, as if it came from a distant exit. Harry wished he had remembered to use his wand to cast a Lumos spell before he entered the maze, but he had been too eager to catch up with Malfoy and prove his courage. He regretted it when he bumped into the wall while making a sharp turn and almost dropped his wand.

The silence in the corridor was eerie and oppressive. Harry could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, as well as his ragged breathing that formed white clouds in the air. Every now and then, he saw wisps of white mist floating past him, like ghostly fingers reaching out to touch him. He shivered and quickened his pace, hoping to find a way out soon.

This maze was like a forgotten ruin that had been buried underground for thousands of years, untouched by any living creature. The walls were moist with water stains that nourished large patches of green moss in the corners, giving off a musty smell. The floor tiles were dark brown and slippery with algae, making Harry lose his balance several times. He had to move sideways and take small steps, like a crab, to avoid falling flat on his face.

The path behind him soon vanished in the darkness, and the path ahead was still uncertain and confusing. Harry felt a surge of panic rising in his chest. He had to admit that this maze, with its tomb-like atmosphere, was the most terrifying place he had ever seen in his life!

“Did Professor Watson ever explore this maze himself?”

Harry wondered aloud, hoping to hear another human voice besides his own. But his words only echoed back to him, mocking his loneliness and fear. He tried to estimate how long he had been in the maze, but he couldn’t tell. Time seemed to stand still in this place, or maybe it was moving too fast for him to notice. He felt like he had been wandering for an hour, but it might have been only two minutes. Or maybe it was the other way around.

“At least, I can’t lose to Malfoy- “

Harry muttered to himself, clenching his teeth and forcing himself to keep going. He couldn’t let Malfoy win this challenge that Professor Watson had set for them. He couldn’t let Malfoy have the satisfaction of laughing at him or taunting him.

The area illuminated by his wand showed him the same monotonous scene over and over again. It was this boring and dull picture that stimulated his imagination to the extreme, making him conjure up all kinds of horrible images in his mind. What if there were monsters lurking in the shadows? What if there were traps waiting for him at every turn? What if he never found a way out? He wondered how Ron or Hermione would cope with this maze, if they were here with him. Ron would probably curse and complain all the way, but he would also crack jokes to lighten the mood. Hermione would probably use her logic and knowledge to find clues and solve puzzles, but she would also be nervous and anxious about every detail. Neville, poor Neville, he would probably faint at the sight of this maze.

“Could it be that Professor Watson deceived everyone and just wanted to scare everyone with this gloomy maze?”

Harry thought, after walking for a while without encountering any sign of life or danger. But then he remembered Professor Watson’s reputation and style of teaching, and he dismissed this idea. Professor Watson was not a cruel or sadistic person, but he was also not a soft or easy one.

The temperature around him dropped suddenly, making Harry shiver even more. He could see that every breath he exhaled turned into a thick mist that lingered in the air, as if he were in a freezer. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, trying to keep warm. Drip, drip. The sound of water dripping became louder as he progressed. The air became more humid and sticky, making Harry feel uncomfortable and sweaty. His hair was wet with countless tiny droplets that clung to his forehead and temples.

Finally, he saw something different on the ground in front of him. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a surge of hope and curiosity. Maybe he had found a clue or a way out. Maybe he had reached the end of the maze. Maybe he had beaten Malfoy.

“Phew, it’s just a small river.”

Harry said, feeling disappointed and relieved at the same time, when he realized what was blocking his path. In the narrow corridor, a ten-foot-wide canal crossed the ground, cutting off Harry’s way forward. The water was dark green and murky, covered with algae and slime. Rotten wood and debris floated on the surface, emitting a foul smell. Harry wrinkled his nose and peered into the water, wondering if there were any fish or frogs or snakes in it.

Why did Professor Watson make a small canal here? Harry wondered, scratching his head. What was the purpose of this obstacle? Was it a test of his intelligence or his courage? Was he supposed to swim across it or find another way around it?

He looked back at the way he had come, but he saw only darkness and mist. He had a feeling that Snape was hiding somewhere in the shadows, watching him with his cold and sneering eyes, waiting for him to make a mistake or give up. He imagined Snape’s voice in his head, saying that he had failed the challenge, that he was not brave enough, that he was not worthy of being a Gryffindor.

The thought of losing to Snape and Malfoy made Harry’s blood boil. He felt a surge of anger and determination. He couldn’t stop here. He couldn’t turn back. He had to find a way to cross the canal and continue the maze. He had to prove himself. He had to win.

Phew! Harry exhaled heavily and made up his mind.

Ten feet was not an easy distance to jump over, especially when there was a murky and smelly canal below. But Harry had a natural talent for flying and Quidditch, and he was the youngest seeker in Hogwarts for nearly a hundred years. He had inherited his father’s athletic genes, and he was not afraid of heights or speed. He fixed his eyes on the piece of rotten wood that protruded from the algae-covered water in the middle of the canal. It looked like a small and unstable platform, but it was the only thing that could help him cross the river.

“Professor Watson must have put this piece of wood here on purpose–”

Harry thought, trying to convince himself that there was some logic and reason behind this obstacle. He backed up two steps and took a deep breath, feeling his heart racing and his muscles tensing. Then he leaped forward with all his strength, aiming for the ‘wood’ with his right foot. He felt a brief sensation of weightlessness as he soared through the air, then a jolt of pain as he landed on the ‘wood’ with a thud. It creaked and wobbled under his weight, but it didn’t break or sink. Harry quickly pushed himself off it and jumped to the other side of the canal, landing safely on the slippery floor tiles.

He had made it. He had crossed the canal. He felt a surge of relief and pride, but he didn’t have time to celebrate or rest. He sensed that something was wrong, that something was watching him from the dark water. Maybe it was just his imagination, or maybe it was something-someone. He didn’t want to find out. He wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible. So, without looking back, he continued to move forward, following the faint glimmer of light that seemed to lead him to the exit. His figure soon disappeared in the mist and shadows, leaving behind only his footprints on the wet ground.

Drip, drip – The sound of water dripping echoed in the empty corridor, creating a rhythmic and hypnotic melody. The water vapor in the air condensed into droplets when it met the wall that was as cold as ice, and slid down along the cracks and crevices. Some of them fell into the canal with a splash, disturbing the ‘wood’ that had served as a stepping stone for Harry. Under the effect of the ripples, the ‘wood’ drifted slowly to one side and touched the bank with a soft thump.

No one noticed that in the boundless darkness, a pale hand emerged from the water and grabbed the edge of the bank. The maze was not constant or predictable. In addition to the winding corridors that twisted and turned in every direction, there were also some small rooms that branched off from them. The rooms had semi-circular high domes that gave them an illusion of spaciousness, but they were actually not very large in area. They were empty and dark, except for some strange symbols and patterns carved on the walls and floor. They looked like they had some kind of purpose or meaning, but Harry couldn’t figure out what they were.

Based on his quick glance when he had entered Professor Watson’s classroom earlier that day, and his vague memory of the route and direction he had walked since then, Harry guessed that he had probably reached the center of the maze by now. This made him feel a little happy and hopeful, because it meant that he was closer to finding a way out than before. It also meant that he was slightly ahead of Malfoy in this challenge, which gave him some satisfaction.

Now, what lay before him was a straight corridor that seemed to end at a large hole in the ceiling. Harry raised his wand higher so that the light from its tip could reach farther, but he didn’t see anything new or interesting within thirty feet. It was just more of the same monotonous scene: dark brown tiles on the floor, mottled walls on both sides, low ceiling above him.

“Where did Professor Watson find this place–”

Harry wondered aloud, feeling curious and puzzled. He was almost convinced that Professor Watson had not created this maze out of thin air, but had somehow restored or reproduced an area he had been to before. This complex and realistic maze could not be the product of imagination alone.

It had to have some history and origin behind it. Thinking of this, Harry’s mind flashed with Professor Watson’s young and handsome face, and the smile that seemed to never be disturbed by any accident or trouble on that face. Harry thought he knew a little about Professor Watson, after spending a few months in his class, suddenly realized that he had never seen his true face behind his mysterious veil.

Compared to before, Harry’s steps were much lighter and faster as he gradually adapted to the darkness and silence of the maze.

He had overcome his initial fear and panic, and had replaced them with curiosity and determination. He had convinced himself that Professor Watson had gone to great lengths to create this gloomy maze just to test their courage, and that everything else was just a bluff or a joke.

The words he had said in the corridor before the challenge, and the magical contract he had made them sign, were just to make them nervous and excited. It made sense. The heir of Slytherin had only petrified two students and a cat so far, which was bad enough, but not fatal. But if he really followed Professor Watson’s words and tried to scare or harm them in this maze, then no one would be safe or happy. Not even Dumbledore or the other professors would allow such a thing to happen. They would stop him or punish him or expel him.

Thinking about this, the oppressive and cold atmosphere around him became much more bearable and friendly. Harry wiped his forehead with his sleeve, feeling the sweat cooling on his skin. He even smiled slightly at the corners of his mouth, feeling more confident and relaxed.

“Sly Professor Watson!”

Harry muttered, half-admiringly and half-annoyedly. He didn’t forget that Professor Watson had set a ten-minute ‘challenge time’ for each group of people who entered the maze. If he didn’t leave the maze before then, he would be judged as a failure along with Malfoy, regardless of how far he had gone or what he had seen. Even if his ‘maze exploration’ progress was higher than Malfoy’s, there was nothing to be proud of or happy about.

He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Malfoy beat him or gloat over him. He had to find a way out of this maze as soon as possible. He had to complete the challenge successfully. He had to win.

Harry’s mind was racing with many thoughts as he walked along the corridor, trying to figure out the mystery of this maze and the purpose of this challenge. He wondered why he hadn’t seen any sign or sound of Malfoy until now, even though they had entered the maze at the same time and from the same point. Had Malfoy encountered any trouble or danger? Had Malfoy given up or escaped? He also wondered if Snape would break the rules and secretly help Malfoy in some way, such as giving him a map or a clue or a spell. Harry knew that Snape hated him and favored Malfoy, and that he would do anything to make him fail or suffer.

Thinking of this, Harry felt a surge of impatience and frustration. He rubbed his sore right shoulder, which he had injured when he bumped into the wall earlier. He decided to speed up and leave this place as soon as possible. He didn’t want to waste any more time or energy in this maze. He wanted to find the exit and prove himself. He wanted to beat Malfoy and Snape. He wanted to win. And just before Harry lifted his foot and took a step forward, a sharp scream full of fear and pain suddenly pierced the air from the darkness ahead, making Harry’s face turn pale and his blood run cold!

/FicFrenzy

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep