The Living Shroud

The moving staircases were a majestic sight from below. Tom admired the magical prowess needed to make such mechanical marvels possible.

"Did you know that Rowena Ravenclaw was the founder who invented the concept of moving staircases," Hermione explained to nobody in particular.

They led from platform to platform and went as high as the seventh floor, ending there. When students walked up, they had a knack for moving to the wrong landing. However, Percy, the house prefect, guided the students safely to the right platforms. He cautioned them to jump over every trick stair.

"Remember every single one of them. Most of the time, you'd be running up and down all by yourself. If you are stuck in one of them, you'd definitely miss a class that day."

There were hundreds of portraits manning the Grand Staircase's walls. The most glorious of them belonged to the four Hogwarts founders. The highly distinguished alumni in the school's history also found respectable places.

Students finally reached the seventh floor, where the Fat Lady's portrait blocked their path into Gryffindor tower.

"Canem latrantem," Percy said with perfect enunciation. "Correct," the fat lady acknowledged, and the portrait opened up.

***

"What was so urgent that the Minister for Magic had to visit Dumbledore in the middle of the welcoming ceremony?" Seamus Finnigan asked everyone in the Gryffindor common room.

The first years sat in squashy armchairs by the fireplace. A lion's portrait hung over the mantle; the walls were scarlet with tapestries.

"No idea," Ron replied. He was picking cookie crumbs from his sweater and eating them. Hermione shot him a disapproving glance before speaking up.

"It is about the abductions, isn't it?"

Students huddled in random groups by the bulletin board or the bookshelves. Most of them were gathered to sneak a peek at the new houseless boy. They looked away when they heard Hermione's question.

"What abductions?" Harry asked, finishing his cookie.

"Didn't you read the Daily Prophet on the train?"

"Err… I most certainly did not."

Hermione rolled her eyes and began. "There have been abductions in Hogsmeade and even in Diagon Alley. Young wizards and witches have mysteriously disappeared. Twenty-two to date. Just… gone."

Ron looked up from decrumbing his sweater. "Who is taking them?"

The little witch beamed, realizing she had everyone's attention. Seamus, Dean, Neville, Harry, Lavender, Ron, and even the intriguing boy, Tom Riddle, leaned toward her.

"Well…" Hermione whispered. "I heard from a third year that there's a Living Shroud floating in the streets."

There were audible gasps.

Tom leaned back and raised an eyebrow. He remembered reading about the creature. The Living Shroud, or the Lethifold, was a dark magical creature that resembled a black cloak about half an inch thick.

It glided several feet above the ground and often pretended to be a blanket carried by the wind.

"Do you know what shrouds hunger for?" Hermione asked in a spooky voice.

Nobody answered.

"Human flesh."

Tom shrugged. What Hermione said was a fact. Everyone knew that Lethifolds were carnivorous. Mothers would try to scare their children to sleep with the story. It was a common magical household name.

"Does it have teeth?" Lavender asked nervously.

"Nobody knows. There are no survivors of a shroud attack. It would suffocate and then eat the prey. Not even the clothes would remain."

A collective shudder ran through the young students. For a few moments, they could only hear the fire crackle in the hearth.

"You're trying to scare us, Hermione," Ron said, biting his lip. "Dad would know if a dangerous monster were around. He has friends in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Oh, really?" the little witch chirped. "Wouldn't the Ministry be instead trying to hide their failures? Dubbing the disappearances as abductions. A ministry official even tried to blame it on the muggles."

"You're quite the activist in the first year," George Weasley observed loudly from a distant couch.

Hermione pouted and turned to her audience. "Well, I happen to subscribe to the opinion that the present Minister is too cruel. We need a kind one leading us. Like Dumbledore."

Tom found her statement odd. "Hermione?"

"Yes?" She looked cheerful now that she had the boy's attention. His dark eyes were fixated on her.

"Surely, Cornelius Fudge wouldn't be considered a cruel minister?"

Harry and Ron made faces at him as if he had said something weird.

"Fudge?" Ron exclaimed. "That squirrel wouldn't be made Minister if he were the last wizard on earth,"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Then who is-"

"Which rock have you been living under? Our Minister for Magic is Gellert Grindelwald!"