The Weasley of Slytherin: The Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 11: Midnight Chase

We fell silent quickly, looking around nervously for the source of the sound.

"Mrs. Norris?" Ron asked conceded. To me it didn't sound much like a cat, more like a sort of sniffling.

It ended up not being Mrs. Norris, but instead a sniffling Neville who was lying curled on the cold stone floor, although he sprang up quickly when I prodded him with my foot.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed." Neville cried as he saw us.

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." Hermione told him.

"Oh well thanks for telling me the password." I said to her. "Now I can poison all of you in your sleep." The other four stared at me looking concerned. "Oh come off it, I was only joking."

"How's your arm?" Asked Harry, still looking at me in concern.

"Fine," said Neville, showing us. "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, as I scowled slightly.

"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."

"If either of you get me caught I'll actually break into your dorms and poison you." I threatened them.

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell me off for my joke, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned us all forward. We flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows.

As we turned every corner I half expected to see Filch or Mrs. Norris waiting to catch us, yet somehow our luck held out as we rushed up the stairs towards the trophy room on the third floor.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet, so we waiting as the crystal trophy cases glimmered when 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. I pulled my wand out, feeling the smooth carved bone in my hand.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made us jump. I had my wand held up in front of me ready when I heard a voice— and it wasn't Malfoy.

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

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Harry waved madly at us to follow him; 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," I heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to us and, petrified we slowly began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. We could hear Filch getting nearer.

Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run before 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, yet I was already ahead of him, I pulled Ron to his feet and ran down the hall, not sparing a moment to look back and check whether Filch was following — we swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another.