Midnight Mischief
Harry woke to the sound of scratching. At first, he thought it was the wind clawing at the window, but no—this was deliberate. Groggy and annoyed, he turned over in his chair by the fire to see the monster looming near the door, its claws dragging down the wood.
“Do you mind?” Harry groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Some of us actually need sleep.”
The monster let out a low growl, then glanced meaningfully at the door.
Harry blinked. “What? You need to go outside?”
Another growl.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake. Fine.” He stood, grabbing his coat and boots. The monster didn’t wait, shoving the door open with surprising finesse for something with claws longer than a steak knife.
The cold hit Harry like a slap to the face. Snow crunched underfoot as he followed the creature into the woods, muttering under his breath. “You couldn’t wait until morning? No, of course not. Midnight strolls with my very own nightmare—just what I wanted.”
The monster ignored him, its glowing eyes scanning the trees. It moved with a predatory grace, its hulking frame oddly silent against the snow.
“What are you even looking for?” Harry asked, shivering. “Or is this just one of those I smelled something interesting trips?”
The monster paused, tilting its head. Then, with alarming speed, it bolted into the underbrush.
“Brilliant,” Harry muttered, breaking into a jog. “Absolutely brilliant.”
He followed as best he could, the creature’s tracks a clear path in the snow. The woods were eerily quiet, save for the sound of his own labored breathing.
Finally, he caught up, finding the monster crouched near a fallen log. It growled softly, its claws digging into the earth.
“What is it?” Harry asked, peering over its shoulder. Then he saw it—a small, shimmering light flickering in the snow.
Harry frowned. “A wisp?”
The creature growled again, as if in agreement. Harry crouched beside it, squinting at the tiny light. It floated just above the ground, pulsing faintly.
“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Harry said, reaching out. The monster snapped its jaws near his hand, making him jerk back. “Alright, alright! No touching.”
The wisp drifted away, weaving through the trees like it was daring them to follow.
The monster didn’t hesitate, lunging after it with surprising speed. Harry groaned, scrambling to his feet. “Wait! What if it’s a trap?”
The creature didn’t care. Harry had no choice but to follow, slipping and stumbling through the snow. The wisp led them deeper into the woods, its light growing brighter with every passing moment.
Finally, they emerged into a clearing. In the center stood an ancient stone archway, covered in frost and half-buried in snow. The wisp hovered near the arch, its light casting strange, flickering shadows.
Harry stared. “What the—”
Before he could finish, the wisp darted through the arch. The monster let out a guttural snarl and started to follow.
“Wait!” Harry grabbed its arm—or tried to. The creature was mostly skin and bones, and he might as well have been grabbing air.
The monster hesitated, glancing back at him.
“We don’t even know what’s on the other side,” Harry said, trying to catch his breath. “Could be a portal to Hell for all we know.”
The monster tilted its head, as if considering. Then it rumbled low in its throat, stepping back from the arch.
“Thank you,” Harry said, relieved.
But then the wisp reappeared, this time darting straight at Harry. He yelped as it zipped around him, its light flaring brightly.
The monster roared, lunging forward—and the next thing Harry knew, they were both tumbling through the archway.
The world shifted around him, cold and dark and disorienting. When he finally landed, it was on soft, damp moss.
“Great,” he muttered, pushing himself up. “Just great.”
The monster stood nearby, shaking itself off. Its glowing eyes swept their new surroundings—a dense, foggy forest unlike the one they’d left behind.
The wisp hovered nearby, pulsing faintly as if in triumph.
Harry glared at it. “This is your fault.”
The monster growled in agreement.