She padded barefoot across the cold, unyielding stone floor, her eyes fixed curiously on the direction Charlie had gone.
The eighth-floor corridor stretched empty and silent. Before long she reached the edge of what looked like an abyss. It slanted downward into darkness with no visible end, each massive step rising higher than her entire head.
She stood at the lip of the first step, hesitated only a moment, then gathered her courage and jumped.
A faint thump echoed as she landed, stumbled forward, and nearly pitched headlong down the next drop. She caught herself, patted her knees, and kept going.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It felt like forever. Down and down she went until the air grew warmer and the distant murmur of voices reached her. She followed the sound along the corridor.
Portraits lined both walls—moving, laughing, talking among themselves. The little one stopped and waved up at them.
"Do you know where this is?"
None of them so much as glanced her way. After several more attempts she puffed out her cheeks in frustration and marched on.
A soft scritch-scritch came from a dark corner. She turned, curious. A pair of glowing crimson eyes stared back.
She raised a hand and waved hello.
The owner of those eyes crept forward. A huge, gray-furred rat with a pointed snout and a naked tail that lashed impatiently. Greed glittered in its red eyes.
The little one froze. Every instinct screamed that she had been marked.
She bolted.
The rat gave chase, its claws clicking rapidly across the stone. She darted between the legs of statues and suits of armor, her green leaf-like skirt fluttering behind her. The rat was gaining fast. Just as it was about to pounce, voices echoed from around the next corner.
"Oh, Hermione, exams are still weeks away. Why are you already talking about studying?"
The little one skidded around the bend and found herself staring up at three enormous pairs of boots. Without thinking, she scrambled onto the nearest one and clung to the laces.
Around the corner the rat burst into view, took one look at the three towering figures, and fled in terror.
Hermione yelped and jumped back. "A rat! Ron, get it!"
Ron watched the creature disappear and gave her a strange look. "Why'd you assume I'd be the one to chase it?"
"Because you're the professional?" Hermione said, embarrassed.
The three of them started walking again. The little one clung desperately to Hermione's boot as the footsteps thudded like war drums. She was swung side to side until her head spun, but she held on.
Ron kept talking. "Seriously, why review? You already know everything. Charlie probably won't even crack a book until the night before."
"Don't drag Charlie into this," Hermione snapped. "And if he heard you say that, he'd tell you that knowing everything is the same as knowing nothing."
Harry shrugged. "I don't think he'll study much. Maybe a day or two before?"
They never noticed the tiny passenger clinging to Hermione's boot all the way to the second floor.
A warm, sweet scent drifted down the corridor. The little one's nose twitched. She let go of the boot and followed the smell, keeping to the shadows along the base of the wall.
Whenever students ran past she ducked behind vases or the legs of armor, heart hammering. The scent grew stronger until she reached a glowing shop window set into the wall. Several students were buying from it—taking something the size of her head, unwrapping it, and biting in with obvious pleasure.
"Sunshine! I love Sunshine!" one of them sighed happily.
She waited in the shadows until the corridor emptied. Only then did she step out and wave at the painted shopkeeper inside the frame.
"Hello!"
Lely looked up, glanced around, and frowned.
"Over here! Right here!"
Lely tilted her head, listening, then rubbed one ear. "Strange… must be hearing things. That's enough for tonight. Time to close up and restock."
She vanished from the shop window.
The little one stood alone in the empty corridor, fists clenched, face burning.
Red. Furious. Hurt.
No one ever saw her. No one ever answered.
Anger boiled hotter and hotter until—pop—two pairs of delicate, cicada-wing-like wings burst from her smooth back.
She launched into the air and flew straight at the shop window, wings buzzing furiously.
"Look at me! Face me!"
But the shop was empty. The anger drained away as quickly as it had come, leaving only exhaustion. Her head drooped. She drifted aimlessly through the dark corridors, wings growing heavier with every beat.
She crossed corridor after corridor, staircase after staircase, following nothing but instinct until she slipped through an open door into a warm, spacious room. Three beds stood inside. She flew straight to the one by the familiar window—the same window where she had once bathed in sunlight beside the sleeping giant.
The giant lay curled beneath blankets, breathing slow and deep. Beside his pillow, a ginger-furred creature with two pointed ears was curled into a tight ball, also asleep.
The little one knew that ginger creature. It was interesting. Safe.
She landed clumsily on the soft fur. The moment her body touched that warmth, every bit of strength left her. She curled up and fell asleep instantly.
Alice's eyes fluttered open. She blinked down at the tiny figure nestled against her chest, then carefully shifted, wrapping her paws around the little one and pulling her close like something precious.