CHAPTER TWO: LIFE AT HOGWARTS
The next few days were slightly difficult for me, having to become accustomed to my dorm mates dressing and undressing in front of me, instead of using the bathroom like me, though Neville wasn't so bad, having to find my way around the school and then there was the lessons themselves. They could be quite challenging in themselves, which I found quite fascinating. It was the first time I really had to challenge myself. Every other year at school I use to find the work to easy and was the best in my year, until I got sick of all the other kids calling me names and what not. I then purposely made my marks lower. Anyway, that wasn't going to happen here. Here at Hogwarts, my grades were going to be that of an average student my age.
On my first few days, I had already had Charms with tiny Professor Flitwick, Herbology with Professor Sprout, Astronomy with Professor Sinistra and Transfiguration with strange Professor McGonagall. It was McGonagall that confused me once again. While my other teachers acted normal around me and kept a close eye on all my classmates equally, McGonagall seemed to only have eyes for me. When I told Ron about it he just shrugged it off saying that I was imagining it. However, it was on my third day that I got a real taste of what I assumed my life would be like for the next seven years.
The day started off like any other - except for the fact Ron and I managed to make it to the Great Hall without getting lost and except for the fact that I got an invitation to spend the afternoon with Hagrid - until we had our first potions lesson. It had been rumoured that Professor Severus Snape always favoured Slytherin House, seeing as he was the Head of Slytherin House, and that he wasn't a pleasant or helpful professor...I soon discovered that they weren't just rumours...they were actually true.
The lesson began with Snape calling the role, before addressing the silent and nervous class.
'There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class,' he began in nothing more than a whisper. However, we could hear every word clearly and I realised that he had the same ability to keep a class silent without any effort just like professor McGonagall. 'As such I don't expect many of you to understand or appreciate this subtle science and exact art of potion making. Nor do I expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.'
The class remained silent after his little speech. I exchanged a look with Ron, before glancing around the classroom. The vast majority of the class looked nervous while Draco Malfoy looked calm and Hermione was on the edge of her seat trying to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.
Snape looked around at the silent class before his eyes fell upon me. He silently looked at me, and I looked back at him nervously. I didn't like how his expressions were masked, nor did I like his cold black eyes.
'Potter!' he said at last. 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'
I stared at him. Wormwood sounded familiar from when I read One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but apart from that I didn't have a clue what he was on about, though Hermione did since her hand went flying in the air.
'I don't know, sir.' I admitted
Snape then seemed to sneer at me.
'Then let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?'
'I don't know, sir.' I said, glancing sideways at Hermione who still had her hand in the air. 'Though I think it has something to do with a goat.'
'And what is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?' Snape asked immediately after.
'Er...nothing?'
'Are you asking me that back, or is that your answer?' asked Snape.
'My answer, sir.'
Snape stared at me calmly, not giving any emotions away, before telling the class the answers to the questions he had just asked me. I was then shocked when he went on with the lesson and didn't quiz anyone else. Out of everyone in the class, why did he quiz me? It just didn't seem fair. I got the feeling that he would be extremely firm with me, compared to the rest of my classmates.
As the lesson went on, I began to think that I had just imagined Snape's particular harshness to me, but I was wrong. Snape put us all into pairs and set us to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils, which seemed easy enough to me. I mean, potion making was like cooking, right? Anyway, Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching as we all weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone - especially me, for doing even the slightest thing wrong - except Draco, whom he seemed to like, though liked was probably an understatement. I could see from their behaviour that he had known Draco for a long time, and Draco seemed to be at ease talking to the Potions Master.
Snape was just telling us all to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs - I had to admit, Draco did have the potion perfect, even better than Hermione's - when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was oozing across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
'Idiot boy!' snarled Snape, looking positively frightening as he cleared the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. 'I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?'
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. I couldn't believe this teacher was so mean. Neville was in pain and all Snape was doing was yelling at him.
'Take him up to the hospital wing,' Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on me and Ron, seeing as we were working next to Neville. 'You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's one point from Gryffindor.'
'What?' I yelled as Snape made to turn away. 'Why are you punishing me when I had nothing to do with it?'
'Don't you dare take that tone with me, Potter?' Snape said quietly. 'I do not appreciate having students yelling at me.'
'And I don't appreciate being punished for something I didn't do!' I snapped back. Most of the class looked impressed and scared at my actions.
Something flickered briefly in Snape's black eyes, before he said coldly, 'Five points from Gryffindor, and it will be more if you do not hold your tongue.'
He then turned his back on me, but that didn't stop me glaring at him as he went back over to speak to Draco.
As Ron and I climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, my mind was racing and my spirits were low. Why? Well, I had lost six points for Gryffindor in my very first week, within an hour. This made me think - why did Snape hate me so much? And why was he so much sterner and harsher on me than the other students? The only time I had seen this behaviour before was when I was in primary school and my teacher's daughter was in my class. He was always much harsher on her than anyone else, but that couldn't be the case with Snape...could it?
'Cheer up,' said Ron, interrupting me from my depressing thoughts. 'Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?'
'Um...yeah...sure, why not? I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind.' I said absently. Maybe I could ask Hagrid about Snape's behaviour.
At five to three Ron and I left the castle and made our way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. When I knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, 'Back, Fang - back.'
Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
'Hang on,' he said. 'Back, Fang.'
He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.
There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling; a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
'Make yerselves at home,' said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at me, knocked me to the ground and started licking every part of me face he could reach. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
'Oh, sorry, 'Arry.' Hagrid said apologetically, quickly coming forward to get Fang off me.
'That's okay!' I laughed. 'He's just being friendly is all. Aren't you, boy?' I added to Fang, patting his head. 'This is Ron, by the way.' I said, getting back onto my feet and motioning to Ron.
'Another Weasley, eh?' said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles and flaming red hair as he put some rock cakes on the table. 'I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest.'
The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth – they gave a new meaning to the name "rock cakes" -, but Ron and I pretended to be enjoying them as we told Hagrid all about our first lessons. Fang rested his head on my knee and drooled all over my robes, not that I cared. I sat their absently patting his head and scratching his ears. Anyway, during this time, I told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told me not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
'But he seemed to really hate me and is harsher and sterner on me then the rest of the students!' I argued. 'Every time I did the slightest thing wrong, he'd be there telling me off while ignoring everyone else's little mistakes!'
'Rubbish!' said Hagrid. 'Why should he and would he?'
'You tell me,' I replied, when I noticed Hagrid avoiding my eyes.
Hagrid pretended that he hadn't heard me and turned to Ron asking about his brother Charlie. I watched them talking for a bit before picking up a cutting from the Daily Prophet that was on the table:
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault in question had in fact been emptied the same day.
'But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts spokes goblin this afternoon.
I stared at what was written in front of me. Hadn't Hagrid told me that you would be made to break into Gringotts for it was the safest place in the world, except perhaps Hogwarts? However, as I re-read over the article, I saw the date on which the break in had occurred and my eyes widened.
'Hagrid!' I said interrupting Ron and Hagrid's discussion on what Charlie was up tp. 'That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!'
There was no doubt about it; Hagrid definitely didn't meet my eyes this time. He grunted and offered me another rock cake. I politely declined and read the story again. The vault in question had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen when he removed the grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for? This question continued to nag me all the way back to the castle and throughout the night. I was still brooding over it when I went to bed along with several other questions. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell me?
-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-
As the weeks went on, I became accustomed to life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I found it easier to move around the castle, and even happened upon a couple secret passages with Ron and I used to get to class on time. Ron and I had also become very good friends. So good in fact, that one would have thought that we were brothers (if we had the same coloured hair, that is). However, life at Hogwarts wasn't perfect. Professor Severus Snape was still harsher on me than any other student and it took a considerable amount of effort not to pull out my wand and try and jinx Draco Malfoy.
Growing up I had always believed that Dudley would be the one boy I would hate immensely, but Draco had proven me wrong. Ever since we first met, I knew that I would have trouble getting along with him, but as the weeks wore on it became clear that Draco and I would never get along. We were too different. I was thankful, though, that we only had potions together, but that was until I discovered that the Gryffindors would have flying lessons with the Slytherins.
'Typical.' I said hotly when Seamus told us the night before flying lessons would start. 'Just want I've always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy!'
'You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself,' said Ron reasonably. 'Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk.'
'Somehow I highly doubt it.'
'Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you will do fine.' Neville said confidently as I climbed into bed.
The morning of our first flying lesson, the Gryffindor first years all had to listen to Hermione Granger bored us all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else, including me, were very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.
I always enjoyed the arrival of the mail, regardless of the fact that I never got any. For some reason, it just intrigued me. Nearly every morning I would watch as the owls soared above us all looking for the owner of the parcel or letter they were delivering.
A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.
'I've never seen a marble like that before.' I said earning curious looks for my fellow Gryffindors excluding the Muggle-borns and half-bloods.
'It's a Remembrall!' Neville explained, looking at me curiously. 'Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh...' His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, 'You've forgotten something...'
'So that's all it does? Tells you that you have forgotten something?' I said. 'Huh, would be even more useful if it told you what you had forgotten or at least gave you a hint to help you remember.'
'Especially for me,' said Neville as he tried to remember what he had forgotten.
As he was trying to remember what he'd forgotten, Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Ron and I both jumped to our feet, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school - except perhaps Snape - was there in a flash.
'What's going on?'
'Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor.'
Scowling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.
'Just looking,' he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.
At three-thirty that afternoon, I went with Ron and the other Gryffindors down the front steps and onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under our feet as we hurried down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. According to Fred and George Weasley, some school brooms started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. And then there was their teacher, Madam Hooch, who was standing there impatiently. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
'Well, what are you all waiting for?' she barked as we stopped in front of her. 'Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.'
We hurriedly obeyed and I ended up across from Draco with Ron and Hermione either side of me.
'Stick out your right hand over your broom,' called Madam Hooch at the front, 'and say "Up"!'
'UP' everyone shouted.
My broom jumped into my hand immediately and it was the only one that did. This earned impressed looks from my fellow Gryffindors and jealous looks from most of the Slytherins. Draco ended up being the second person to get the broom into his hand on his second go. He looked over at me and our eyes met. He smiled slightly and I couldn't help but return it. For some reason, there was a part of me that couldn't help but like Draco, regardless of the fact that I hated him. My feelings were mixed and continuously contradicting each other. A few more people soon joined Draco and I, which Hermione Granger's simply rolling over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all.
Once the vast majority of them had gotten their brooms off the ground, Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Ron was delighted when she told Draco he had been doing it wrong for years. I couldn't really care less.
'Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,' instructed Madam Hooch. 'Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three - two –'
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.
'Come back, boy!' she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. I then gasped as Neville slipped off his broom - WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. I then watched as she hurried over to Neville, her face as white as his only it was because of worry. Thankfully, Neville's wrist was only broken.
'None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!' she said turning to the rest of us. 'If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will be out of Hogwarts before you can say "Quidditch." Come on, dear.'
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter. Why wasn't I surprised?
'Did you see his face, the great lump?'
The other Slytherins joined in.
'Shut up, Malfoy,' snapped Parvati Patil.
Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?' said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. 'Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati.'
'Look!' said Draco, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. 'It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him.'
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
'Give that here, Malfoy.' I said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Draco smiled nastily.
'I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?'
'Give it here!' I yelled angrily, but Draco had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.
I knew he hadn't been lying. He was actually a decent flyer and he sat there, hovering, level with the topmost branches of an oak. It was then he called, 'Come and get it, Potter!'
I stood there glaring at him before I went and grabbed my own broom. I was not going to let him do anything to Neville's Remembrall.
'No!' Hermione shouted walking over to me. 'Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble.'
'No you won't. She said only the person riding it.' I snapped as I mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground. Up and up I soared; air rushed through my hair, and my robes whipped out behind me. I never thought that flying could be so exciting and trilling. It felt as though I was meant to fly, but I had no time to savour the feeling. I had to get the Remembrall of Draco. I turned the broomstick sharply to face Draco in mid-air. Draco looked stunned.
'Give it here,' I said my voice nearly as cold as Snape's, 'or I'll knock you off that broom!'
'Oh, yeah?' said Draco, trying to sneer, but looking worried. He could see that I was dead serious.
When Draco didn't hand it over, I reached forward and grasped his broom tightly with both hands while my legs gripped my broom. Draco's eyes went wide.
'You going to give it to me now?' I asked with a hint of a threat in my voice.
'Catch it if you can, then!' he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.
I saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. Following my instincts, I leaned forward and pointed the broom handle down - next second I was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball - wind whistled in my ears, mingled with the screams of people
watching - I stretched out my hand - a foot from the ground I caught it, just in time to pull the broom straight, before gracefully landing on the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in my hand.
'HARRY POTTER!'
Upon hearing these words, my heart sank faster than I had just dived. I slowly turned to face the furious Professor McGonagall, who was running toward us.
'Never - in all my time at Hogwarts –' Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, '- how dare you - might have broken your neck –'
'It wasn't his fault, Professor –'
'Be quiet, Miss Patil.'
'But Malfoy –'
'That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.'
I caught sight of Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as I numbly followed Professor McGonagall back towards the castle. I was going to be expelled, I just knew it. I wanted to say something to defend myself, but there seemed to be something wrong with my voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at me, but I noticed that she seemed to be trembling. I bit the bottom of my lip and hung my head. I hadn't even lasted a month. I must have made a new record for the shortest enrolment ever. However, what worried me most is how the Dursleys would react when I arrived back on their doorstep. I imagined that they would be furious, but then…maybe I didn't have to return to them. Maybe I could convince Dumbledore to allow me to live with Hagrid. I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind. Maybe I could help Hagrid with his game keeping duties while watch my friends become wizards without me.
I followed McGonagall up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside. She then wrenched open doors and marched along the corridors before stopping outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.
'Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?'
Wood? I thought, utterly bewildered as Professor Flitwick answered her and moments later a burly fifth-year boy who came out of the classroom looking confused.
'Follow me, you two,' said Professor McGonagall, and we marched on up the corridor, Wood looked at me curiously.
'In here.'
Professor McGonagall pointed us into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.
'Out, Peeves!' she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the confused Wood and the nervous me.
'Ha - Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker.'
Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight, while I got even more confused. What did she mean that she had found him a seeker?
'Are you serious, Professor?'
'Absolutely,' said Professor McGonagall crisply. 'She's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?'
I nodded silently. I didn't have a clue what was going on, but I didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to me legs. No one noticed McGonagall calling me a she.
'He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,' Professor McGonagall told Wood. 'Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it.'
Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.
'Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?' he asked excitedly.
'Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team,' Professor McGonagall explained.
'He's just the build for a Seeker, too,' said Wood, now walking around me and staring at me. 'Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say.'
'I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks...'
Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.
'I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you.'
Then she suddenly smiled and she looked as though she was very proud of me.
'Your father would have been proud,' she said. 'He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.'
'Really?' I said becoming very interested. So McGonagall knew my father.
'Really,' she said with a small sad laugh and tears seemed to form in her eyes. 'You may go.'
I left with Wood and I realised that McGonagall must have been very close to my father for her to act that way.
-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-
'You're joking.'
It was dinnertime and I had just finished telling Ron everything that had happened when I left the grounds with McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.
'Seeker?' he whispered. 'But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about –'
'- a century,' I said promptly. Wood told me as we left the classroom together.
Ron was so amazed, so impressed; he just sat and gaped at me. It actually made me a little uncomfortable.
'I start training next week,' I said conversationally. 'Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.'
Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, and when they stopped me, they hurried over.
'Well done,' said George in a low voice. 'Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters.'
'I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year,' said Fred. 'We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.'
'Anyway, we've got to go; Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school.'
'Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.'
Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Draco flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
'Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?'
'You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you,' I said coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. Not that they scared me, though I couldn't understand why. They were more than double my size. I was like a stick insect and them to giant toads.
'I'd take you on anytime on my own,' said Draco, lowering him voice slightly. 'Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?'
'Of course he has,' said Ron, wheeling around while I continued to eat my dinner calmly. 'I'm his second, who's yours?'
Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.
'Crabbe,' he said. 'Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked.'
When Draco had gone, Ron and I looked at each other.
'What is a wizard's duel?' I asked at once. 'And what do you mean, you're my second?'
'Well, a second's there to take over if you die,' said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie, and when he caught sight of the look on my face, he added quickly, 'But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.'
'Ron, I don't even know enough magic to that!' I said which was a bit of an exaggeration. 'My talent lies in agility.'
'Then dodge and punch him in nose.' shrugged an unconcerned Ron.
'Excuse me.'
Ron and I both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.
'Can't a person eat in peace in this place?' Ron complained rudely.
Hermione ignored him and spoke to me instead.
'I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –'
'Bet you could,' Ron muttered.
'-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you.'
'And it's really none of your business.' I said bluntly. She was really starting to annoy me.
'Good-bye,' said Ron.
Hermione's eyes narrowed and walked away with her nose in the air.
At half-past eleven, Ron and I got dressed and snuck out of our dormitory and into the common room, before silently making our way to the portrait hole. We had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them.
'I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry.'
A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown. I bit down on my tongue as I felt my temper begin to rise. I really did have a nasty temper.
'You!' said Ron furiously. 'Go back to bed!'
'I almost told your brother,' Hermione snapped, 'Percy - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this.'
I couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.
'Come on,' I muttered to Ron. I pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole, but Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.
'Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.'
'And you say that we only care about ourselves,' I growled as Ron told her to go away.
'All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so –'
But whatever we were, we did not find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.
'Now what am I going to do?' she asked shrilly.
'That's your problem,' said Ron. 'We've got to go; we're going to be late.'
We hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with us.
'I'm coming with you,' she said.
'You are not.' snapped Ron as I groaned and closed my eyes with annoyance.
'D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.'
'You've got some nerve –' said Ron loudly.
'Shut up, both of you!' I said sharply, finally losing my patience. 'I heard something.'
It was a sort of snuffling.
'Mrs Norris?' breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.
It wasn't Mrs Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.
'Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours; I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed.'
'Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now; the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere.'
'How's your arm?' I asked.
'Fine,' said Neville, showing them. 'Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.'
'Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later –'
'Don't leave me!' Neville panicked and scrambled to his feet. 'I don't want to stay here alone; the Bloody Baron's been past twice already.'
Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.
'If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.'
Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but I hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.
We flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn I expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but we were lucky. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room. Draco and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. We edged along the walls, keeping our eyes on the doors at either end of the room. I wisely took out my wand in case Draco leapt in and started at once. I wouldn't put it past his to do something like that. As the minutes crept by, I started to become impatient and worried at the same time.
'He's late, maybe he's chickened out,' Ron whispered.
Then a noise in the next room made them jump.
I quickly raised my wand before we heard someone speak. It wasn't Draco.
'Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.'
It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, I waved madly at the other three to follow me as quickly as possible; we scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when we heard Filch enter the trophy room.
'They're in here somewhere,' they heard him mutter, 'probably hiding.'
'This way!' I mouthed to the others and, petrified, we began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour.
As we heard Filch getting nearer, Neville let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. Unfortunately-he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour.
So much for being quiet, I thought as the clanging and crashing of armour echoed around the corridor. I wouldn't have been surprised if it had woken up the entire castle.
'Run!' I urgently told the others, help Ron to his feet while Hermione helped Neville. Together we sprinted down the corridor, not daring to look back to see whether Filch was following - we swung around the doorpost and tore through one corridor then another. I was in the lead with no idea where we were or where we were going - we ripped through a tapestry and found ourselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which we knew was miles from the trophy room.
'I think we've lost him,' I said, before frowning slightly when I noticed the others were out of breath. Neville was bent double, wheezing and
spluttering. I shrugged it off thinking that they were all unfit and not use to running, whereas I loved to run.
'I - told -you,' Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, 'I - told - you.'
'We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower,' said Ron, 'quickly as possible.'
'Malfoy tricked you,' Hermione said to me. 'You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.'
I knew that she was probably right, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing it.
'Let's go. Quietly,' I said, leading the way once more.
Sadly, these things are never that simple. We hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of us. It was Peeves. He caught sight of us and gave a squeal of delight.
'Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out.'
Peeves cackled.
'Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty.'
'Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please.' I begged giving him what I hoped was a charming smile.
'Should tell Filch, I should,' said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. 'It's for your own good, you know.'
'Get out of the way,' snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves. That was a big mistake.
'STUDENTS OUT OF BED!' Peeves bellowed, 'STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!'
Ducking under Peeves, we ran for our lives, right to the end of the corridor where we slammed into a locked door.
'This is it!' Ron moaned, as we pushed helplessly at the door, 'We're done for! This is the end!' We could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves' shouts.
'Oh, move over,' Hermione snarled. She grabbed my wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!'
The lock clicked and the door swung open – we immediately piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed our ears against it, listening. Our hearts beating painfully.
'Which way did they go, Peeves?' We heard Filch say. 'Quick, tell me.'
'Say "please".'
'Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?'
'Shan't say nothing if you don't say please,' said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.
'All right -please.'
'NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!' And we heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.
'He thinks this door is locked,' I whispered while wondering why Peeves didn't give us away. 'I think we'll be okay - get off, Neville!' For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of my jacket for the last minute. 'What?'
I turned around impatiently – I seemed to have very little patience tonight - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, I was sure we'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. We weren't in a room, as we had supposed. We were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor and we now knew why it was forbidden. We stood frozen, looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. A Cerberus.
It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and I knew that the only reason we weren't already dead was that our sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. I carefully groped for the doorknob - between Filch and death, I'd take Filch every time. When I found the doorknob, I turned it, opening the door and pushing the others out ahead of me, before slamming it shut. We then ran like the wind all the way back to the Gryffindor common room. Thankfully, Filch was nowhere to be seen and the Fat Lady was back in her portrait.
'Where on earth have you all been?' she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.
'Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout,' I said, looking worriedly over my shoulder as the others panted around me. They seriously needed to exercise more.
The Fat Lady looked at us suspiciously, but she nonetheless swung forward. Together we scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. It was a while before any of us said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.
'What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?' Ron demanded finally. 'If any dog needs exercise, that one does.'
Hermione had got both her breath and, unfortunately, her bad temper back again.
'You don't use your eyes, do you?' she snapped. 'Didn't you see what it was standing on.'
'The floor.' I said sarcastically with a hint of anger. 'I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads and getting uses out of there since you were all just standing there!'
'No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something.' Hermione snapped back, choosing to ignore my last comment.
She stood up, glaring at them.
'I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed.'
Ron stared after her, his mouth open.
'No, we don't mind,' he said. 'You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?'
'One thinks for sure, she definitely has her priorities wrong.' I grumbled as Ron, Neville and I headed to the boys dormitories.
However, Hermione had given me something else to think about as I climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something... What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide - except perhaps Hogwarts. It looked as though I had just discovered where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was now being kept.
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Written: 25 February 2012
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