Thursday!
Between new classes and Melissa's series of curses. Beth had almost forgotten about the secret meeting at eleven thirty that night. Would anyone else be there? Who -- or what -- would she see when she got there? She answered her own question: The SSA, the enchanter or enchanters of the paper from the potato. That meant that Melissa, Mervin and Bruce would have all received the message -- if they were the same -- and that Richard Shaw had something to do with it.
The day was passed in terse anticipation. Beth couldn't look at any of her classmates without wondering where they would be at midnight. She was so preoccupied that she could barely speak, and when she did, she found herself prattling on and laughing loudly at jokes that were generally not funny.
By nine o'clock, she was so antsy that she staked out a chair in the common room so that she could watch the entrance and the others. Mervin did the same across from the room, she noticed. Bruce came by shortly thereafter, seeking help in Transfiguration. They studied for an hour and talked for another, covering topics from the amusing height of Professor Flitwick to why the Thunderbolt broomstick was never going to overtake the Nimbus series in sales volume. Melissa came back to the common room eventually. She looked flushed and excited, and Beth noticed that in between comments she would slip into a daydreamy half-smile. When Beth asked about it, Melissa claimed that she had been out practicing Charms.
By eleven o'clock, the Slytherin common room had cleared out except for Bruce, Melissa, Mervin, and Beth. Mervin sat apart from the other three and kept giving them shifty looks. He was the sort of person who looked like he never believed what he was hearing.
A half an hour passed slowly. Beth had just settled into one of the high-backed chairs, determined to fall asleep in the meantime, when she heard a voice behind her:
"Well, Riggs, there they are."
She opened her eyes and peered around the back of the chair. It was Richard, the boy across the table from her at the feast, and his fussy-looking friend Riggs. Riggs was carrying a large quill and looked extremely nervous, but Richard wore a broad grin. He came up to Beth's group and said quietly but excitedly, "Come on, you lot, we're making an excursion. Up and about!" He crossed the chamber and bent near Mervin, presumably to tell him the same thing.
The six students gathered at the entrance. Richard smiled around at them. "All right. Once we get out there, stay close and don't make a sound. The last thing we need is Filch on our tails."
"Where are we going?" demanded Mervin suspiciously.
Richard only continued to smile.
One by one they crept out of the common room and into the pitch-black hallway. Behind them, the door to the common room vanished into the wall as each student exited. Finally, they were all together, and Richard began to lead them through the castle halls.
Beth felt her stomach tighten as they ventured further into the dark. She'd never broken curfew, and was convinced that Argus Filch, the caretaker, would pop out at them from around a corner and give them all expulsions -- or at least, detention. She'd heard all sorts of horrible stories about what students were made to do in detention. Furthermore, a group of six is difficult to keep quiet, and the constant rustling, squeaks and occasional hissed apologies did nothing to ease her nerves.
They started down a corridor of classrooms when Richard pulled up suddenly in the front. Everyone ran into him from behind. "Shush!" he demanded in a low hiss. Beth cocked her ears. She heard a soft meow from not far ahead; Mrs. Norris, Filch's beloved cat. In the further distance, there were footfalls ...
"Filch!" hissed Riggs.
The company flattened against the wall. Around the corner, they could hear creaking footsteps and clanging keys: Argus Filch, the vindictive caretaker. Richard cast about carefully. "Into the classroom," he murmured almost imperceptibly, indicating the open door a few yards away. One by one, they slipped down the hall and into the darkened classroom.
"Nasty Slytherins, off to kill someone?" an irritating voice cackled. Behind them, Peeves the poltergeist floated upside-down in the air. He had turned all of the desks and chairs wrong side up as well, so if you tilted your head it all looked relatively normal. "Gonna set Filch on you -- 'spect I get a reward --"
"PEEVES IF YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE BARON WILL DO TO YOU!" Richard hissed loudly, before Peeves could continue. The poltergeist scowled.
"Oh, s'you," Peeves muttered angrily. "Never any fun, you lot." He bobbed out of the classroom, the soles of his feet bouncing against the ceiling.
A few tense seconds later, a very loud crashing noise sounded far down the hall. "We've got them now, Mrs. Norris," Filch could be heard muttering. His footsteps receded quickly, and the group was left in silence. Riggs, who had been looking like he desperately wanted to set all of the furniture upright again, went to the door and peered around. "Clear," he murmured, and everyone got up and followed him out into the castle again.
Hogwarts had never felt more like a labyrinth. Beth was vaguely aware of passing a few familiar rooms, and once or twice a picture would wave at them in recognition. In the middle of a deathly-black hallway, Richard halted. The third-years flocked around him, bobbing up and down trying to catch a glimpse. All Beth could see was a lot of red hair. "Move, Mervin!" she hissed.
"Shush," said Richard again. Silence fell. Then, in a startlingly loud voice, he enunciated: "Ouch! My toe!" in an unconvincing tone.
His toe? Beth wondered. Before she had time for another thought, a pale light flickered in front of Richard. It grew into a line, which diverged downward until it had outlined a rectangle in the wall.
Richard stepped forward and grabbed a shiny brass doorknob as it appeared on the wall with a "popping" noise. "Come on now, hurry up," he muttered, looking around anxiously. He shoved the door open and shepherded them in hurriedly; then he followed and slammed the door behind him.
The room that appeared was brightly lit and thickly furnished with shag rugs, little couches, and bottles of all colors crammed onto shelves along the walls. Most notable, however, were the dozens of ceramic pots and cauldrons sitting about like halved Faberge eggs. Some shimmered with inlaid gold; others shone in warm ivory tones. Most were squattish, with wide mouths, but a few loomed almost to the ceiling.
"The Vase Room," said Richard proudly.