Harry Potter was walking from Snape's classroom after his Potions lesson. His sixth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry had just begun. Suddenly, he frowned; something didn't feel right.
'Have I forgotten something?' the boy wondered. Looking down at himself as he walked, he made sure his clothing was there, and that it had been put on the right way.
"Hey mate!" Ron's voice called out from behind him. "Can you believe it? Snivellus didn't even take a single point from Gryffindor this lesson."
Harry's best friend came up beside him. Under his arm he held his Potions textbook.
Harry's eyes widened at the sight. His textbook! He had forgotten his own textbook. The green-eyed boy stopped completely in his tracks, making Ron turn his head around and stare at him with a questioning look.
Harry smiled at his friend sheepishly. "Eh, I might've forgotten my Potions textbook," he said and scratched his neck with his hand.
The boy turned around and was about to sprint back to the classroom, before he glanced back at Ron to say, "I'll just go and retrieve it. I'll be right back!"
He turned his back and ran down the corridor, narrowly missing Dean and Seamus as he turned around the corner.
The green-eyed boy skidded to halt and grabbed the doorframe to slow down. He felt his heart beat in his chest, and his breathing was slightly laboured. He bent his back and let the oxygen flow into his veins. After taking a couple deep breaths, he straightened himself again, and looked into the room. Harry took a step back, surprised.
"Fancy seeing you here, Potter," said the smirking face of Blaise Zabini. "What are you running around for, anyway?" He leant against one of the desks.
Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "Zabini," he said and took a step into the classroom. "What..."
Zabini interrupted the green-eyed boy. He lifted his eyebrows, as if suddenly understanding something while saying, "Ah, looking for Professor Snape, are we? I didn't know you had such a desire to see him outside of classes and detentions." He smirked devilishly and wriggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "Maybe that's why you always seem to do everything you can to get detentions with him." The Slytherin laughed.
Harry felt his face go warm. He glared at the other boy.
"Shut your mouth, Zabini," he hissed at him. "What are you doing here, then?" The boy unconsciously curled a hand around his wand in his pocket.
Zabini narrowed his eyes at the movement. A second later, he rolled them.
"Take it easy, Potter," he said in a bored and dismissing manner. "I'm only joking." He sighed, as if Harry was an annoying child. A moment after, the dark-skinned teen glanced at the other boy. "I'm here because I want to be here. It is my Head of House's classroom, after all," he answered.
Harry continued to glare at Zabini and forced his hand out of his pocket again. Then he proceeded to walk with swift and cautious steps towards the desk he had shared with Ron during the Potions class. The teen frowned as he noticed that the desk was empty. He was sure that this was the desk he had used. Wondering if the book had fallen down on the ground, Harry walked around the table. Nothing.
"Looking for something?" asked Zabini.
Harry turned around to face the boy. The Slytherin was sitting on the same desk he was leaning on a minute ago, with his right ankle resting on the opposite knee. With lazy movements, he flipped through a book which laid on his lap.
Harry stared at the book; it looked strangely familiar. Too familiar. The green-eyed boy gritted his teeth in indignation.
"Zabini," he growled.
The dark-skinned boy looked up. Surprise — Harry was sure it was fake — was evident on his face. He looked at Harry with an expectant look for a second, before the teen looked at the book on his lap.
"Ah," he said, his voice overly pleasant, "was this yours, maybe?" He closed the book and held it up.
"Yes, actually," he answered, "and can I get my book back?"
Harry stared at the book. A nervous feeling settled in his gut. 'Zabini has seen it,' he thought, 'He has seen the Half-Blood Prince's note.'
The raven-haired teen walked towards the other boy, attempting to hide his nerves and make his steps look confident. As Harry was about to take the book out of Zabini's hand, the boy moved it quickly away.
"No, Potter," drawled Zabini. "Haven't you heard of the word 'please'?" He held the book behind his back, out of Harry's reach. Even though his entire face was serious, the pair of dark eyes shined with mirth.
Harry sighed internally but obeyed. He didn't want to cause a scene. This was Snape's classroom; the git might be nearby.
"Can I get my book back, please?" he repeated. He held an expectant hand out, waiting for the book. It didn't come.
Zabini smirked at him. "I never said you'd get the book if you said it." He leaned forward, still smirking. "You will, however, get it back." Abruptly, he leaned back again. Holding up his right index finger, he said: "On one condition."
_
"Harry James Potter," said the voice of his other best friend, Hermione Granger. The voice was hard and sounded almost like Professor McGonagall's when she scolded him for something. "I can't believe you agreed to do that?!" She looked at him like she wanted to punch him and tear off her hair at the same time.
"But Hermione!" said Harry, attempting to explain. "He would've given the book to Snape if I didn't do it! And then I would never have gotten it back. Ever." He looked at her in despair, hoping she would understand.
"For Merlin's sake!" Hermione said with a sigh. "What do you think he'll do? Do you think Professor Snape will just let you go with a slap on the wrist when he catches you sneaking into his living quarters, stealing a bottle of Firewhisky?"
The girl leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. She shot him an expectant look.
Harry frowned. "I won't get caught. I swear!" He spread his arms out wide, with his palms up. "I'm sure if I use my cloak he wouldn't even notice me if I stood right beside him."
The teen made a motion with his hand up towards the boy's dormitories, where his cloak was hidden. He turned his head towards the girl, emerald eyes determined to prove his point.
"Anyway, I need that book. I'll never get good enough grades to pass Potions if I don't have it!" whispered Harry furiously, and he spread his arms out like before.
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. After a moment, she opened them. "Well, then. I'm coming with you."
_
Footsteps were heard through the halls at 10:30 PM that evening; despite the curfew, it wasn't an uncommon sound. Many trouble-makers, couples, prefects, and professors were often out after 10 PM. What was uncommon, however, was the fact that no one seemed to be there.
Under his invisibility cloak, Harry was attempting to walk while crouched over, so his feet didn't show underneath it. Hermione was attempting to do the same beside him, although her shorter length made it easier for her.
"Stop a second," whispered the girl, and she took out her wand. Pointing it down at his shoes, she waved it, "Silencio."
After the spell hit his shoes, she repeated it on her own. Hermione nodded, satisfied.
"Thanks," whispered Harry, and he got a "you're welcome" in reply. They continued walking.
As they passed the Great Hall, Harry looked in through the giant doors. The room was dark. 'It's weird seeing it like that,' he thought. All five tables were clean and empty, and the ceiling showed the dark clouds outside.
Their steps — which were now soundless — lead them forward. Passing a suit of armour, the pair heard footsteps approaching from around the corner. Stopping in his tracks, Harry froze and grabbed his companion's arm, preventing her from moving forward.
Argus Filch came into their view from around the corner. Mrs. Norris came following right after, high at her owner's heels. While Hogwarts's caretaker didn't notice anything amiss, his cat did. Mrs. Norris froze in her tracks as she smelled Harry and Hermione, and proceeded to meow loudly. Walking slowly towards them, Mrs. Norris reached them and sniffed at the fabric of the invisibility cloak.
Harry held his breath. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione glance up at him. He made a tiny head motion, attempting to convey nonverbally that they should get out of there. Fortunately, she seemed to understand, and they began moving around Filch and the cat.
"What is it, Mrs. Norris? Do you smell any students out after curfew?" the dry voice of Argus Filch spoke. He bent his back down and looked at his cat, who only meowed more. "Now, sweetie, what do you hear?"
He straightened and looked around, attempting to spot the source of Mrs. Norris' dismay. The caretaker sighed when he didn't see anything amiss.
Holding his breath, Harry tried to not make a single sound as they moved with slow, deliberate movements past Filch. He froze as the caretaker's searching gaze swept over them. He didn't even hesitate or narrow his eyes as he looked at them. The green-eyed teen gave a mental sigh.
'Come on, Filch,' he prayed, 'just go away.'
Mrs. Norris was still meowing. She sniffed again and began walking towards the Gryffindors hidden under the cloak. The cat touched the fabric with her nose, before it disappeared.
Filch looked at his cat in confusion, before his eyes lit up in understanding.
Harry took a glance backwards and saw Filch stare right at them with a look that clearly said "I understand. I know what I didn't know a moment ago." Emerald eyes widening, Harry turned sharply around to Hermione. "Run," he whispered furiously, before grabbing her arm and taking off.
The pair ran. The cloak was billowing behind them, showing their feet. However, neither one of them cared for any sort of subtlety now, only to get away from Filch.
"Hey you! Stop!" Filch shouted as he watched two pairs of feet run down the hall.
Harry was breathing heavily as they slowed down after rounding another corner. Beside him, Hermione was in the same state as him.
He took a deep breath, before speaking. "I think we lost him."
The boy took a cautious glance around the corner. Nothing. Sighing in content, Harry looked around. He recognised the hall as being somewhere near the kitchen. He guessed he'd find the ticklish pear around a couple of corners.
"Well, it's a long way to the dungeons from here," said Hermione, who had figured out the same as Harry. She sighed before looking at Harry. "Let's go then. We've got some Firewhisky to steal."
_
They didn't encounter anyone after that. After walking for approximately ten minutes, they arrived outside the Potions classroom. The door looked more ominous than normal.
"So, what now?" whispered Hermione as she stared at the door. Her bushy hair had become even more bushier after their little meeting with Filch and Mrs. Norris.
"Er" Harry pursed his lips and shifted nervously on his feet. "We'll go in and take the Firewhisky?"
He shrugged and felt despair slowly entering him as he heard the stupidity of his own sentence. 'What was I thinking?' he asked himself. 'This is Snape. He'll skin me alive if he ever caught me sneaking into his living quarters.' Harry looked at his feet in indecision. He shut his eyes tight before deciding. 'No,' he thought, 'I won't back down.'
Meeting his friend's stare, he smiled. "We're Gryffindors, aren't we?" the teen whispered. "Let's throw caution to the wind and just do it."
Hermione looked at him, wondering if she should laugh or cry. Deciding on neither of them, she shook her head and smiled in exasperation.
Whispering a quick "Alohomora," they opened the door soundlessly and walked in.
The Potions classroom was dark. Completely dark.
"Lumos." Beside him, Hermione's voice whispered the spell, and light shone out of her wand and illuminated the room. Harry looked around with curious eyes.
Working benches and shelves stood where they usually were, but the poor lightning gave it an even more ominous appearance. Bottles and vials were stored in the shelves and they shone slightly in the light. Suddenly, as if the wind had somehow snuck down into the dungeon, the shelves creaked.
Harry jumped slightly. His eyes flew around the room, searching for a source. He didn't notice anything amiss. Narrowing his eyes at the door leading towards Snape's quarters, Harry searched for the familiar looming form of his professor through the tiny glass in the door. He didn't see it. An elbow bumped into his side.
"Let's get going, then," whispered Hermione and motioned her head towards the door Harry was staring at.
After making sure he followed, the girl begun to make her way towards it. Their shoes were still under her silencing charm, so no sound but their breathing was heard. Pointing her wand at the doorknob, Hermione began to work.
If his shoes could make noise, a light tapping would've been heard in the room. Harry's paranoia was setting in, and his green eyes were flicking around with nervous movements. He took another glance at Hermione, who was growing increasingly frustrated and was swishing her wand with small, annoyed movements. Harry sighed. Hermione was trying to counter the measures Snape had taken to lock his door.
Click.
"Yes," murmured the girl, "we got in."
_
'Snape's living quarters are surprisingly nice,' Harry thought as they stepped into what looked like a living room. 'Considering his personality.'
His eyes travelled across black leather couches, an emerald green carpet, and the beige walls. A bookcase was placed at the opposite side of the room, which was filled to the brim with old-looking books. Harry's eyes locked onto the cabinet directly to the left of the bookcase. A bottle of Firewhisky could be seen inside the glass. Taking a glance at the corridor which probably lead to Snape's bedroom, he grimaced and moved towards the cabinet after leaving Hermione behind with the cloak.
Creak.
A noise came from somewhere. Harry froze. He stared in dread down the dark corridor, waiting for the sound of footsteps. Holding his breath, he waited. Seconds passed. No sound escaped either of them. Their breath locked into their lungs. Waiting.
After a dozen more seconds, Harry breathed in again. 'It must've been nothing,' he said to himself. Shaking his head in a tiny motion, the boy continued forward.
He had reached the cabinet. Harry wanted to collapse in relief, but he knew it wasn't over yet. Touching the cabinet knob carefully, as if it could bite his fingers off, Harry opened the cabinet. Fortunately, it didn't make a sound. His hand shook as he reached towards the bottle. Curling his hand over the cool surface, he lifted the Firewhisky.
A door opened.
Harry's eyes widened as he heard the sound. Footsteps. 'Snape is coming!' his brain screamed to him. 'We're doomed.'
Turning his head frantically, he looked in the direction of where he left Hermione. He saw the sole of one of her feet. Forcing himself up, he felt his legs grow a mind of their own on pure adrenalin. He ran.
As he passed Hermione, he grabbed what he thought was her arm. Being somewhat right, he dragged her behind him.
"Who's there?" the furious voice of Snape thundered behind them.
His footsteps became louder. The red light of a spell illuminated the dark room.
The two Gryffindors ran as if death was on their trails. Passing through the Potions classroom at full speed, they knocked over a couple vials. They heard them break behind them.
Harry glanced behind them and saw one of the vial's contents eat its way through the floor. Not having time to think about what would happen to them if they were caught, he continued running at full speed.
_
The pair breathed heavily while leaning against the wall in the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindors had run all the way from the dungeons, with only small pauses to regain their breath. Snape had been far behind them.
The room was empty and absent of any light sources except the moon shining in through the window. The soothing red and gold walls were faint and dark, but still there. Most people had gone to bed or were at least in their dorms. They were alone.
Harry took a deep breath. In and out. He smiled before raising the bottle of Firewhisky in his hand like a salute in his friend's direction. Hermione met his eyes, and she smiled back.
A/N: Written for The Houses Competition
House: Gryffindor Role/Year: 3rd Category: Short (1500-3000 words) Prompt: [Speech] "Let's throw caution to the wind and just do it," Word count: 2844