Soon Afterwards

Harry did not end up going to his dormitory and instead chose to sit in one of the courtyards near the infirmary.

He had barely touched his food when Pansy Parkinson and a group of haughty Slytherin girls sauntered up to him.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" Came the arrogant and snotty voice of Pansy Parkinson.

"I guess not everyone has heard about the Quidditch recruitment just yet -" Thought Harry to himself as he munched on the food he had taken from the Great Hall.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Parkinson. "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, walking up behind Harry, accompanied by Draco. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Pansy Parkinson, sizing her up.

"I don't need a second to deal with you idiots," she said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Pansy had gone, Ron, Draco, and Harry looked at each other.

"What do you mean, you're my second?" asked Harry, with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, stealing a piece of Harry's cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Parkinson'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet she expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if he waves his wand at her and nothing happens?" Joked Draco. Harry threw a blank look at Draco at that joke, but Ron continued on without noticing the joke.

"Throw it away and punch her in the face," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me."

The three of them looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Pansy were saying--"

"Bet you could," Draco muttered.

"-- and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Slytherin if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you." Said Hermione.

"And it's really none of your business," said Draco.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Draco and Ron falling asleep. Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them." Harry wasn't worried about the duel, he'd practiced dueling enough with Sirius that he was honestly pretty confident. There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Pansy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness -- this was his chance to beat Pansy face-to-face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half-past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go."

The three of them pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had just stepped out of the doorway when, from just ahead of them in the corridor outside the common room a voice spoke from the darkness, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A portable lamp light flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"You!" said Draco furiously. "Go back to Gryffindor!"

"I almost told Ron's brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy -- he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Harry and Ron couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Come on," he said to Ron. He pushed past Hermione and continued down the corridor.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron and Draco and Harry hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about your house, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, but you'll lose all the points you got if you get caught - it wouldn't be a fair fight. You're making it too easy on Gryffindor and the other houses."

"Go away." Muttered Draco, harshly.

They had raced up the stairs, Hermione hissing at them all the while - so much that Harry felt she was the real parselmouth, and not him. Soon they passed the Gryffindor common room entrance painting.

"Jeez, would you please shut up and go away?!" Ron nearly roared at her.

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait to get back inside of Gryffindor's common room and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady, guardian of the common room, 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."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

"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!" said Draco, sharply, "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 into 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." Said Hermione.

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"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!" said Neville, scrambling 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 gets 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 Harry and Draco hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn, Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Pansy and her cronies 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. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Pansy leaped in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"She's late, maybe she's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made all of them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak -- and it wasn't Pansy.

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

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other four to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped around the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

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

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following -- they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry and Draco in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going -- they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Draco panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"I -- told -- you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I -- told -- you."

"We've got to get back to our common rooms," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Pansy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? She was never going to meet you -- Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Pansy must have tipped him off."

Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Let's go." Said Draco.

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them 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."

"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 this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door -- and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Draco's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open -- they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "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 they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be okay -- get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"

Harry turned around -- and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare -- this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were 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.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob -- between Filch and death, he'd take Filch.

The group fell backward -- Draco slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared -- all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that -- pig snout, pig snout," panted Hermione, and the portrait swung forward.

"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." Hermione, with her nose upturned, scrambled into the Gryffindor common room followed by Neville, who looked as though he might never speak again.

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

Ron, Draco, and Harry then hurriedly snuck back to the dungeons where they collapsed into armchairs, exhausted.

It was a while before any of them said anything.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Draco had gotten both his breath and his bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" he snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?!"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

That was the end of the conversation for the three boys, who were incredibly exhausted.

Harry, however, kept thinking about it. 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 Harry had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was hidden.