The Road Not Taken: Chapter Nine Part Three

Jun 07, 2011 21:39

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The Road Not Taken: Chapter Nine Part Three



At half past eleven, Harry heard Ron try to wake Dean and Seamus. Neither boy answered Ron, either feigning sleep or they really were dead to the world. Harry had stayed up, waiting for Neville’s return from the Infirmary, but there had yet to be any sign of him.

I might as well try to stop him, Harry sighed as Ron cursed and stomped from the room. Harry had one of Dudley’s old sweaters pulled over his clothes - he wasn’t about to go traipsing about the school halls in his bathrobe.

…Again.

Harry trailed down the stairs after Ron. The redhead didn’t even notice him. The common room was lit by the glowing embers in the fireplace, turning the furniture into crouching shadows. Ron had almost made it to the portrait hole when a voice said, “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Ron.”

A lamp flickered on. Harry saw Hermione sitting in one of the armchairs, her hair braided back and her pink bathrobe drawn around her. It was an echo of a number of memories, both from school and later on in life, when Harry had tried to sneak Ron back into his house after a night at the pub. Hermione had always been furious with Ron for going out and not calling, especially after the children had been born.

“You,” said Ron. “Go back to bed.”

“I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped. “Percy - he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”

“You - you interfering little -”

“Ron,” Harry sighed, stepping down into the common room. “Don’t be stupid. Filch is out there and Mrs. Norris. You’ll get caught.”

“Shove off, the both of you,” Ron glared at them. “I’m a Gryffindor. I’m not some scaredy-cat like you.” He huffed. “And you’re supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived! You’re supposed to be brave, not some coward who hides behind books and - and studies.”

“What, am I to live up to some ridiculous notion that an entire society has created about me, revolving around an incident that took place when I was a baby?”

Ron scowled at him. “Whatever.”

Kids, Harry wanted to spit. Were we really this bloody stupid? “Look,” he tried. “Just stay here. If you’re caught you could get into a lot of trouble, especially with McGonagall already angry at you.”

“I already said I would duel. I never break my word,” Ron spun away, marching for the portrait hole. Hermione shot after him, and Harry took off after her, out the door.

“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, or do you only care about yourself? 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 -”

“Go away.”

“All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train tomorrow, you’re so -”

Harry caught her arm. She had ended in a squeak, staring at the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was missing.

“Now what are we going to do?” Hermione clutched at Harry’s arm.

“That’s your bloody problem, not mine,” Ron snarled as he stalked off. Harry exchanged a look with Hermione and they took off after him.

“We’re coming with you,” she told Ron.

“You are not.”

“D’you think we’re going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch us? If he finds all three of us, I’ll tell him the truth that we were -”

“Wait,” Harry caught her arm again.

“You’ve got some nerve,” said Ron.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. They stared at him. “Someone’s here.” The hair on his arms and at the back of his neck had started to crawl. He felt for his wand, tucked in his pocket. He had hated the nighttime skirmishes, when the shadows could hide enemy bodies and traps. More than one Auror had fallen to Hammerstein’s enthusiastic use of Muggle steel traps, charmed with magic.

Harry took point. He could hear a sort of snuffling. Hermione was right on his heels - he was glad to see that she, too, had her wand out and ready.

“Is it Mrs. Norris?” Ron asked.

“Hush,” Harry said. “Lumos.”

It wasn’t Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He had been curled up by a table against the wall, jerking awake as the light of Harry’s spell woke him.

“Thank goodness you found me! I’ve been out here for hours, I couldn’t remember the new password when I left the Infirmary and -”

“Neville,” Harry put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “The password is pig snout, but it won’t help you now. The Fat Lady’s gone off somewhere.”

“How’s your arm?” Hermione pushed forward.

“Fine,” Neville held it out and wiggled his fingers. “Madam Pomfrey mended in about a minute.”

“Blimey, you’re all wet blankets,” Ron muttered. “Go on back to the dormitory, then. I have somewhere to be.”

“Now wait one minute,” Hermione stalked after him.

“Don’t leave me!” Neville hurried after Harry, who had gone after Hermione. “I don’t want to stay here alone: the Bloody Baron’s been past twice already!”

“If any of you get me caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and use it on all of you.”

Harry saw Hermione open her mouth, probably to tell Ron just how to use Quirrell’s curse, but Harry nudged her arm and shook his head.

They trailed after Ron to the trophy room. Shafts of moonlight striped the halls, the clear night sky showing a blanket of stars.

They heard the soft murmur of conversation before they entered the room. Draco and Nott stood near the Slytherin display case. Malfoy had on his black class robes, as did Nott. Both of them started to snicker at Ron’s checkered bathrobe and Hermione’s pink wrap.

“That’s one way to come to a duel,” Draco snorted. “But what are you doing here?”

Harry met the curious gaze. “Trying to keep all of you from being idiots,” Harry said, keeping his voice down. “Just - go back to bed, would you? This isn’t worth -”

“Quiet!” Nott snapped. He had one hand raised, ear tipped to the far door.

They all froze. Harry had his wand gripped tight in his hand when they heard someone speak.

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

Filch.

Draco’s eyes were wide. Nott swore, soundless. Harry grabbed Hermione and Neville, jerking his head to the far door. “Come on,” he mouthed to the Slytherins.

“They’re in here somewhere,” they heard Filch say. “Probably hiding.”

“This way,” Harry breathed. They began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Filch banged on a door with a yell, causing Ron to let out a squeak. Ron broke into a run, brushing past the Slytherins and Harry, and then tripped. He grabbed for purchase and ended up topping himself and Hermione into a suit of armor.

“Run!” Harry snarled. Harry grabbed for Hermione, surprised to find Draco hauling her up as well and they all took off at a sprint down the hall. They galloped down one hall and then another, Harry in the lead. He thought he recognized the hallway - it was - it was…

They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway; hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Ron was bent double, wheezing and spluttering. Draco wasn’t much better, but Nott looked ready to continue running.

“I - told - you,” Hermione gasped, pointing at Ron. “I told you.”

“We need to get back to the dungeons,” Nott muttered, nudging Draco. “Filch likes to bother the Professor when he can’t find students.”

“You tricked us,” Ron panted, glaring at the pair. “You - you slimy -”

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. “Why would they run if they meant Filch to catch us? It would mean they would have to admit to breaking the rules, too, and also lose points.”

Both Slytherins stared at him.

“What?” Harry set his hands on his hips. “It’s true.”

Nott and Draco shared a look.

“Filch is bound to come after us,” Hermione pointed out. She glanced at Draco, then away. “T-thanks. For the help.”

Draco tossed his head. “I was hoping you’d leave the Weasel down there to distract Filch, not haul him up, too.”

“Hey!” Ron’s hands curled into fists.

“I wasn’t about to leave him there,” Hermione exclaimed. “D’you have any idea how many points we’d lose?”

Nott ducked his head, but not before Harry caught the grin spreading across his face.

This never happened, before, Harry thought as they caught their breath. Malfoy was supposed to be the coward that chickened out. What’s changed?

“Let’s go,” Harry cut in before Ron and Draco could get into a row. “We should try to get back before -”

A doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom two doors down.

It was Peeves. The poltergeist caught sight of them and let out a squeal of delight.

“Shut up, Peeves,” Ron snapped.

“Please,” Hermione added.

“Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty!”

“Not if you don’t give us away,” Draco growled.

“Should tell Filch, I should. It’s for your own good, you know.”

“Get out the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves. Mistake, Harry winced.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!”

They took off. They tore down the corridor, rounded two corners, shot up a moving staircase and into a darkened hall. They sprinted down the corridor where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

“This is it,” Ron moaned, banging on the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!”

“Shut up, Weasel.”

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

They could hear footsteps. It sounded like Filch was running as fast as he could towards Peeve’s shouts.

“Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed the nearest wand - Nott’s - tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohamora!”

The lock clicked and the door slid open. Harry pushed Neville in front of him, making sure they were through as the faint edge of a light started to sweep the hall.

Harry shut the door behind him, trying to ease the lock down as soft as he could. They all crowded in, ears pressed against the wood, trying to hear Filch’s muffled shouts and Peeve’s taunting.

“He’ll think the door is locked,” Draco murmured. “Nice work, Granger.”

“Please, like he’ll just leave it,” Ron muttered. “Get off, Neville.”

“B-but…”

“But what?”

“B-b-b-b….”

“What?”

Harry turned at the gasp. That’s right, he remembered, staring down the corridor. That damn dog.

It was bigger than he recalled. The three-headed monster filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. Its three snouts were twitching, all three mouths barred to show yellowed fangs.

“It’s drooling,” Draco choked out.

All three throats let out a thunderous growl. Ron’s elbow caught Harry in the jaw as he pawed at the door, spilling them all into the corridor that had held Filch and Peeves just moments before.

The corridor was empty. Harry slammed the door shut as the creature lunged at them. Ron was ahead of them, tearing out alone as Neville pulled at Harry’s sweater. They took off, Nott and Draco in the lead. The Slytherins peeled off at the stairs to the dungeons. Harry, Hermione and Neville followed in Ron’s wake to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Where on earth have you all been?” she asked.

“Never mind that - pig snout,” Harry panted. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into the armchairs.

“What do you think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” Neville mustered after a few minutes.

“Well, it was the forbidden corridor,” Hermione had a hand over her eyes.

Ron snorted.

“Did you see what it was standing on?”

Harry started when he realized she was talking to him. “Uh. No? I wasn’t looking at its feet.”

“Not its feet,” she shook her head, hand falling away. “The floor. It was standing on a trap door. It’s like it’s guarding something.”

“Guarding something? What are you on about?” Ron huffed.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” she snapped back at the boy. “We all could have been killed - or worse - expelled because of your little stunt.”

“It’s not like I asked you to come along.”

“We’re never going to win the House Cup if you keep screwing up.”

“Sod off,” Ron’s face was scarlet.

“I am going to bed,” Hermione stood with a sniff and stalked up the girl’s stairway before they could answer.

Harry gave Ron a warning look before the redhead could say something more.

“You think it was guarding something, Harry?” Neville asked as Harry heaved himself out of the chair.

“I suppose,” he shrugged. “Why else would a corridor be forbidden, you know?”

Harry hid a smile as they all climbed back into bed. Things were starting to come together. Sort of.

He yawned and snuggled under the covers. I’ll solve the mystery. Just with more people than last time.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Chapter Ten

harry potter, the road not taken

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