Chapter Seven – We're Dead, We're Dead, We're Dead

(A/N: I have nothing to say. Not now, anyway.)

I wonder where the trophy room is, Harry thought as he casually strolled through the hall. Oh well, maybe the author will have me wander around for a bit and then have me find myself conveniently standing right in front of it by what I will think is pure luck, but actually the only way I could have found the trophy room.

Or maybe I'll get lost and starve to death.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of these depressing thoughts, he suddenly heard something.

He jumped. With all the silence he'd been wandering around in, he hadn't expected anyone to be up at this time of night. He felt for his wand and found it, closing his fingers around it and taking it out. He looked around cautiously.

There it was again. It sounded like…a cat's meow?

Mrs Norris, he thought with alarm.

The aforementioned cat slunk lazily around the corner and spotted Harry. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, simultaneously, they both sprinted off in opposite directions, one looking for its owner, the other for a safe hiding spot.

Two seconds later, Filch came dashing round the corner, huffing and puffing, followed by Mrs Norris, but Harry was gone.

'I'm on to you, little brat,' he muttered. 'Don't think I won't catch you, because I will.' And with a last lingering glance at the deserted hallway, he sloped off.

Twenty feet away, Harry was still running. He slowed to a stop, suddenly realising he was making quite a bit of noise, and listened closely for any other noises (cats in particular). Nothing. He sighed in relief, but kept his guard up as he walked.

Looking around, he now saw that he was in unfamiliar surroundings.

Okay, not good.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a thing by a portrait. He looked closer, and saw that it was a human thing. As he approached cautiously, the human thing stirred slowly and raised its head from its original crouched position, and spotted Harry, who froze.

'Mmf…wha...Harry? Harry Potter?' said Neville Longbottom, slowly getting up and rubbing his eyes.

Harry unfroze. 'Uh, yeah, that's me,' he said.

'I was hoping it would be a Gryffindor…I've forgotten the password to the common room again…' said Neville with a sigh.

'Er…so why are you here?'

'Well, this is where – ' Neville suddenly stopped himself mid-sentence and looked around shiftily. 'Er…anyway, I didn't really have anywhere else to go…I was just released from the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey fixed my broken wrist in about three seconds…' he explained, showing his no-longer-broken wrist to Harry.

'Oh…'

'Yeah.'

Harry nodded sagely. He had no idea why he was nodding, but it seemed an appropriate thing to do at the time.

'I'm sorry I can't help you, Neville, but I hope another Gryffindor comes by soon.'

'It's all right.'

Suddenly a creaking noise reached their ears. Harry sighed, because he was really getting tired of all these potentially-getting-him-into-trouble noises, and stepped back into the shadows. He was wearing his black robe, so he couldn't be that easily noticed. Neville looked quite terrified.

The portrait creaked open, like a door, and Harry's eyes widened as a bright red head of hair poked out. It scanned the area. Harry held his breath as the eyes swept over him, and let it out when they spotted Neville.

'Neville! What are you doing here?' Ron hissed, stepping out of the portrait. It closed behind him. 'It's almost midnight!'

'I forgot the password to the common room,' Neville said, eyes nervously darting over to where Harry stood.

'What are you looking at?' Ron asked curiously, following Neville's gaze.

Harry sighed. His cover was as good as blown, in any case, so he stepped out from the shadows.

Ron jumped back in surprise. 'Potter?'

'You don't have to refer to me by my last name, you know,' said Harry irritably.

'I'll do what I want to, thank you,' Ron fired back, slowly getting over his shock.

The portrait creaked again as it swung open. Ron quickly moved out of the way to avoid getting hit by it as a rather irate Hermione Granger appeared in a pink nightgown.

'I can't believe you've sneaked out, Ron, Neville!' she said, glaring at them. Ron met her glare and upped it one notch.

Hermione looked over to Harry, who was still standing there. She cocked her head. 'Oh, hello. I don't believe we've met properly,' she said cordially, holding out a hand. Harry shook it. 'You're Harry Potter, aren't you?' she continued. 'I've read about you – you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.'

'Am I,' said Harry flatly. Hermione didn't seem to pick up on the complete unsurprised tone of his voice, or she chose to ignore it.

'Goodness, didn't you know, I've had found everything I could,' said Hermione. 'Anyway, you two – ' she whirled back round to discover Neville staring at the portrait and Ron, who had been watching their conversation, 'shouldn't be out at this time of night! I heard you sneaking down, Ron – didn't you know the third stair from the bottom creaks? – and came down to investigate. Anyway, we should be going back to bed now, or we'll all get into trouble – Neville, what are you doing?' she finished, finally noticing Neville's blank stare at the Gryffindor common room entrance.

They all turned their gazes to the now-blank portrait – the guardian had apparently gone for a midnight stroll in the midst of Hermione's rather long tirade.

'Oh no,' Hermione breathed.

'Oh no is right,' said Ron. 'How're we going to get back in now?'

'We'll all be caught!' Hermione cried shrilly, a slight note of hysteria to her voice.

'Er…' said Harry, and everyone glared at him. 'Er…' he repeated. 'Er, I was…actually going somewhere, so uh…maybe you can hide out somewhere until,' he waved vaguely at the empty portrait, 'comes back. Er, so, bye then.'

He quickly walked away.

'Oh no you don't!' Hermione exclaimed, and Harry winced. With all the noise she was making, they'd be caught for sure. He turned around to find all three Gryffindors, Neville albeit a little hesitantly, stomping (at least in Hermione's case) in his direction.

'You're out here too, and if we're getting caught, you're getting caught too, otherwise I'm going to tell Professor McGonagall,' Hermione said. Harry frowned slightly at this reasoning, but brushed it aside and said to Hermione in an undertone, 'Look, I know Mrs Norris and Filch are always patrolling, and I mean always, and Peeves is definitely around all the time, so I'd appreciate it if you would keep your voice down,' he concluded.

Hermione huffed. 'Fine,' she said, but she did it quietly, for which Harry was quite thankful.

'If you want to come with me, then fine, but please, keep it quiet,' Harry repeated. He paused. 'Say, do any of you know where the trophy room is?'

There was a slight grumbling noise from Ron and he stepped forward, wordlessly leading the way.

'I'll take that as a yes then,' Harry said to himself, following.

Hallways, corridors, and many, many turns later (Harry had lost count at twenty-one, or maybe it was twenty-two), Ron stopped abruptly. Harry almost bumped into him, and this may have provided some comic relief, but the author has chosen not to make Harry bump into Ron, so there will be no comic relief as of yet. Hermione and Neville stopped as well.

Ron stepped away from the door to let Harry open it. Harry turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The trophy room was empty.

Harry blinked.

He walked into the room, still looking around to see if Draco was there.

He wasn't.

'Hey, where's Malfoy?' Ron said as he followed Harry in.

'Why would you be looking for him?' asked Hermione with a slight frown. They ignored her.

'Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.'

All four of them stopped moving.

'That was Filch, wasn't it?' Ron whispered.

Harry nodded. Then, motioning for the others to follow him, he tiptoed towards the door, opened it (thankfully, it did not creak) and tiptoed out.

Neville's robes had only just disappeared behind the door frame when they heard the creaking of another door; Filch had entered the trophy room.

'They're in here somewhere.'

Panicking slightly, Harry walked a little faster.

'Probably hiding…'

They heard Filch getting nearer.

Mrs Norris meowed. Somehow, Filch apparently translated this to 'I can smell something foreign. Someone was here just seconds ago,' because he said, 'Someone was here just moments ago? They must still be near. Quick, Mrs Norris, you check outside and see if anyone's out there!'

Terrified, Neville let out a little squeak, ran forwards, tripped over Ron's feet, and fell into a suit of armour.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

'RUN!' Harry yelled, sprinting forwards and roughly grabbing Neville, Ron doing the same.

Harry leading, the four of them dashed down hallway after hallway, skidding around corners, narrowly avoiding ornaments.

They ripped through a tapestry, found themselves in a hidden passageway, ran along it, and emerged in a place which Harry recognised as being near their Charms classroom.

Harry collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Ron was bent over, using the wall for support, Neville was spluttering and wheezing, and Hermione was leaning against the wall, clutching at the stitch in her side.

'I – told – you,' she wheezed. 'I – told – you.'

Harry didn't know what she'd told them, and he didn't even know who she was talking to, but that didn't matter.

Draco was never going to meet you in the trophy room, said a voice inside his head. He tricked you, you realise that? He played you like a fool. And like an idiot, you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

'Shut up,' he muttered.

'What?' said Ron, looking at him strangely.

'Nothing,' said Harry quickly. 'C'mon, let's go.'

They had barely got half a dozen steps when there was a rattling noise.

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. He was really getting sick of these noises-that-could-possibly-get-him-in-trouble.

Suddenly, Peeves the poltergeist shot out from the door of the Charms classroom. He saw them and gave a gleeful shout of joy.

'Oh no,' Hermione muttered.

'Ickle firsties!' Peeves exclaimed delightedly. 'What are you ickle firsties doing out of bed? You're bad ickle firsties, yes you are!'

'Oh no, please, Peeves – you'll get us expelled,' Hermione pleaded.

'Should tell Filch, I should. Don't want any ickle firsties getting out of trouble.'

'Don't get us into trouble, Peeves, please,' Harry said, checking up and down the corridor in case Filch and Mrs Norris were coming so they could get ready to run.

'Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty. Should report you, yes I should.'

'Shut up, you, and get out of our way,' Ron said angrily, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake.

'STUDENTS OUT OF BED!' Peeves bellowed. 'STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN CHARMS CORRIDOR!'

Before the last word was out of Peeves' mouth they had already started running. They ran to the end of the corridor, and slammed into the door – it was locked.

'We're doomed,' Hermione moaned. 'We're going to get caught, and we'll be expelled, and I'll have to get a second-rate education, all because of one stupid mistake…'

Ron pushed frantically at the door. 'We're dead, we're dead, we're dead…'

Suddenly Hermione's face lit up. She grabbed Harry's wand and shoved Ron out of the way. 'Move over – Alohomora!'

The lock clicked and the door crashed open. They hurriedly shoved each other inside and slammed the door shut.

'Which way did they go, Peeves, which way did they go?' they heard Filch say eagerly, as they pressed their ears against the door. 'Quick, tell me, before they get away!'

'Say please.'

'Don't mess me about, Peeves, now which way did they go?'

'Shan't say nothing if you don't say please,' said Peeves in a singsong voice.

'All right – please.' It sounded rather forced.

'NOTHING! HA HA! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! HA HA HA!' And then they heard Peeves zooming away and Filch cursing in rage.

'He thinks this door's locked,' whispered Hermione, rather stating the obvious.

Harry finally Neville tugging on his robe. 'What, Neville?'

He pointed.

(A/N: CLIFFIE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Well, not really much of a cliffie, is it, since you all know what happens next.

You know, oddly, for some reason 'cliffie' is a spelling mistake but 'CLIFFIE' isn't. How odd. According to Microsoft Word's spell checker that is.

Maybe it thinks it's an acronym.

This chapter, including the author's notes, not including the review responses, because my Internet connection wasn't working again, was finished at 3:36 am on Tuesday, June 28, 2005 (at that time, though it had yet to be titled properly), because, as mentioned above, my Internet connection wasn't working again and I couldn't sleep. Anyone have any insomnia cures, besides sleeping pills?

Oh, I've got a title now. It is roughly 3:45 am.

Don't forget to review, because reviews are nice, and everyone likes reviews! And it might just be an incentive for me to update faster. If you review, I mean.)

fire-legs Oops. Ahh! Sorry! Completely forgot. And I thought my memory was improving. Sigh. Well, thanks for reviewing twice then. :) High Serpent King Oh yeah, I updated. Go me. Again. Well, I didn't use your suggestion. Too bad. Heh heh. I did say lameness was my specialty. Serpent of Light (blinks) Wow. That's a long review. Thanks so so much, for the review, and for adding me to your Favourites list and Author Alert list and…yeah. :D I did sort of use your suggestion. You know, the cyber drumroll thin.g. Thanks! SlythsRule Yeah, I know. That's why the summary is what it is. Hee hee. Shadowface Yep, I know. No one seems to have reported me yet though, right? Hmm. Maybe I should delete it. And maybe just add it to this chapter. Or Chapter Six.