There had been a time when Ron had been young enough to believe that everyone in the world was nice. Then Fred had turned his teddy bear into a giant spider, leaving him traumatized and with a lifelong aversion to spiders. The lesson had been reaffirmed with his meeting of Draco Malfoy. It was entirely possible that Malfoy was the most spoiled, conceited and obnoxious person he had met in his life. He counted himself lucky that the only class Gryffindor had together with Slytherin was Potions. But that was only until the sign went up in the Common Room announcing that Flying Lessons would begin on Thursday...and they would be held with the Slytherins.
“Typical,” Harry said, his voice dark. “Just what I’ve always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broom in front of Malfoy.”
“You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” Ron said reasonably; Harry had already confided in him that he’d been looking forward to learning how to fly more than anything. “Anyway,” he had gone on, “I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet it’s all talk.”
Malfoy really did talk about flying a lot, as well as Quidditch. He had been heard complaining, on too many occasions in Ron’s opinion, about how unfair it was that first years weren’t allowed on the House Teams. Of course, this was in addition to the long, detailed tales of his flying prowess that all seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggle contraptions called helicopters.
He wasn’t the only one though who wouldn’t shut up about it. The way Seamus told it, he had spent half his life on a broom, racing over the hills in the country. Anyone and everyone from a wizarding family spoke about Quidditch nearly every waking moment. In fact, Ron had already argued with Dean about a Muggle game called soccer. He just couldn’t see the point or the skill needed in playing a game that used only one ball and kept all it’s players on the ground. When he thought no one else was watching, he had gone and prodded Dean’s poster of the West Ham soccer team, trying to get them to move.
Neville though, was likely to be the only pure or half-blood in the school who had never been on a broom in his life...because his grandmother hadn’t let him. Secretly, the rest of the Gryffindor’s agreed with her as Neville managed to get into enough accidents with both of his feet on the ground. Who wanted to imagine the damage that could be done on a flying stick?
Hermione Granger, the resident know-it-all, was nearly as nervous as Neville. Not that she hadn’t tried, but flying wasn’t something you could learn out of a book; it was practical magic. Although, that hadn’t stopped her from going to the library the day they were supposed to start and reading through a book called ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’ at the breakfast table. With Neville hanging onto her every word, she had bored the rest of them silly with tips that they all knew already. No one was happier than Ron when her recital was interrupted by the delivery of the morning post.
A barn owl carrying a rather small and oddly shaped package landed in front Neville. He opened it, barely containing his excitement to show them what his grandmother had sent him.
“It’s a Remembrall ” he told them, showing the marble sized glass ball, filled with a white smoke, to the rest of the table. “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 it turns red“oh“” His face fell as the smoke within the glass turned a deep scarlet, nearly glowing. “...you’ve forgotten something...” he trailed off, a deep look of concentration on his face as he tried to remember what he’d forgotten to do. The Remembrall was snatched suddenly from his hands by Malfoy who was
passing by the table.
Ron and Harry leapt immediately out of their seats, nearly hoping for a reason to fight him, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble faster than even his mother, was there in an instant.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice crisp.
“Malfoy’s got my Remembrall, Professor,” Neville answered.
Under her watchful gaze, Malfoy dropped it back onto the table with a scowl. “Just looking,” he muttered, swaggering to the Slytherin table with Crabbe and Goyle.
*****
The Gryffindor first-years marched down the front steps of the castle later that afternoon. It was a clear day and the glass rippled in the slight breeze as they moved towards the flat lawn where they would be having their lessons. In the distance, the trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed warningly.
The Slytherins had gotten there first, as well as the twenty or so school brooms that they would be learning on. All the first years looked at them with interest, but those who knew what a real broom ought to look like, frowned in disappoinment.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Madam Hooch, their instructor and the Quidditch referee snapped upon arrival, her yellow eyes glaring at them. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up ”
Ron glanced down at the broom closest to him, thinking of his Shooting Star gathering dust in the closet with a pang of longing. And his Shooting Star was practically obsolete. These brooms looked as though they had been designed in the time of the Founders themselves, close to a thousand year ago.
“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” Madam Hooch ordered from the front of the lines, “and say ‘Up ’”
“UP ” everyone bellowed in one voice.
“OW ” Ron yelled as his broom shot up and began to hit his face furiously. Grabbing it angrily, Ron held it stiffly at arm’s length and it fell still after a moment. He glanced around to see that most of the class was having trouble as well: some of the brooms hadn’t moved at all and others had simply rolled over, but only three of them had seemed to rise up at the command.
Madam Hooch spent the next few minutes showing them how to mount their brooms properly, until everyone could do it without falling off. She then paced up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Ron and Harry were nothing short of thrilled when she told Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years and nearly fell off their brooms for laughing.
“Now,” she said once everyone had gotten it right. “When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle“three-two“”
Neville though, nervous and jumpy and scared of being the last one on the ground, pushed off before the whistle had even touched her lips. It was a rather good thing too, Ron thought as he watched Neville shoot like a rocket into the sky with Madam Hooch yelling after him, there was no way she could have controlled nineteen students in the air as one went racing to the moon.
It was only when Neville was close to thirty feet up in the air above them that the full danger of what had happened hit them. Neville lost his grip on the broom handle and ever so slowly, as if in a dream, fell towards the ground. Ron didn’t know why Madam Hooch hadn’t pulled her wand out to stop his fall and he winced when Neville landed with a heavy WHAM onto the ground, his face in the grass as his broom floated lazily towards the forest.
“Broken wrist,” Madam Hooch muttered, bringing Ron’s attention back to where she was bending over Neville, her face white as chalk. “Come on, boy“” she said in a tone that said she was trying to reassure herself there was nothing else wrong with him. “It’s all right, up you get.”
“None of you move while I take this boy to the Hospital Wing ” she said, turning back to the class with murder in her eyes. “You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”
Neville, still crying, stumbled towards the castle with Madam Hooch whose arm was tight around his shoulders. He was clutching his wrist against himself protectively.
They were just barely out of earshot when Malfoy burst out laughing. “Did you see his face, the great lump?”
The other Slytherins joined in.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Parvati snapped.
“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” Pansy Parkinson, one of the Slytherin girls asked. “Never thought you’d like fat little crybabies, Parvati.”
“Look ” Malfoy said before Parvati could respond, bending forward and lifting something out of the grass. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”
The sun played off the glass of the Remembrall as it glittered in the sun, held high in Malfoy’s hand.
“Give that here Malfoy,” Harry said quietly, causing the entire class to stop talking as they turned to watch.
Malfoy sneered at him. “I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find“how about“up a tree?”
“Give it here ” Harry yelled, but Malfoy had already mounted his broom and was airborne moments later. He hadn’t been lying, he really could fly, and he was hovering near the highest branches of the tallest tree in the entire field.
“Come and get it Potter ” Malfoy yelled down, the smirk on his face clear even from that high up.
Harry grabbed his broom.
“No ” Hermione screamed, and everyone turned to her now. “Madam Hooch told us not to move.” She faltered under the class’ hostile glares. “You’ll get us in trouble.”
Harry and the rest of the class ignored her as Harry mounted his broom, kicking off the ground and shooting into the air, his robes billowing in the air behind him as he rose, higher and higher.
What in the“
Ron whooped admiringly as the girls gasped. Harry had never touched a broom before in his life (with the exception of the ones he used to clean) and it was no small miracle that he hadn’t fallen off his broom like Neville had.
Ron smiled as Harry leveled with Malfoy, whooping again.
“Give it here,” Harry called to Malfoy, making a sharp turn on his broom to face the Slytherin who looked completely stunned. “Or I’ll knock you off your broom ”
“Oh yeah?” Malfoy said, attempting to hold onto his sneer and failing. He looked worried.
Harry leaned forward suddenly, shooting at Malfoy like an arrow. Malfoy moved at the last second and Harry turned around sharply, coming around the face him again, holding his broom steady the entire time. Ron cheered with the other Gryffindor boys; he’d never seen such a natural on a broom. Even Charlie wasn’t this good.
“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy ” Harry yelled out.
“Catch it if you can, then ” he shouted and threw the glass ball up and away, speeding back to the ground as the Remembrall started to fall.
Harry stretched forward again, gathering speed as he followed the path of the Remembrall. Hermione looked as though she was going to faint and the girls were screaming and holding onto each other. He looked as though he was going to crash into the ground. Harry stretched out his hand and Ron closed his eyes, and then opened them a moment later; either way he couldn’t handle it.
Harry’s hand left the handle of his broom and he caught the Remembrall a foot off the ground, pulling out of the dive inches above the ground and tumbled off the broom, the glass ball held safely in his hand.
“YES ” Ron yelled punching his fist in the air before running over to help Harry up.
“HARRY POTTER ”
Ron short-stopped. Damn he thought furiously. He glanced at Harry as he stood up, trembling, all the color draining from his face. Damn, he thought again.
“Never“in all my time at Hogwarts“” Professor McGonagall spluttered, her eyes shocked and angry behind her glasses. “How dare you“might have broken your neck“”
“It wasn’t his fault Professor“”
“Be quiet Miss Patil“” she snapped.
“But Malfoy“” Ron started, scowling at Parvati.
“That’s enough, Mr Weasley,” she said shortly. “Potter, follow me, now.”
Without another look at them, she turned on her heel and started marching to the castle. Ron gave Harry what he hoped was an encouraging look and with that, Harry ran after her.
“I told him not to do it,” Hermione muttered.
Ron would have told her off, but Malfoy chose that moment to burst out laughing.
“Bet he’ll be on the train back to the Muggles by dinner ” he managed to get out before the rest of the Slytherins joined in his laughter.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Parvati said darkly. “It’ll be your own fault if he is and you can be sure none of us will stop to think to tell McGonagall what really happened.”
“And what if I don’t?” he sneered.
“Well,” Ron said slowly, “I suppose I always could bash your head in.”
Malfoy laughed again. “You and what army?” he asked, turning from side to side to look at Crabbe and Goyle who had once more resumed their posts beside him.
Ron took his own look behind himself to see the steady line of Gryffindors behind him: everyone’s hands were either on their hips or crossed over their chests and looks of fury covered every face as they stood ready to defend Harry. “This one,” he said simply, turning back to Malfoy.
The smug look on Malfoy’s face vanished and he didn’t say another word.
Ron worried his way through the rest of the day’s lessons and had firmly convinced himself by the time he walked in to dinner that Harry was going to be expelled. When instead it turned out that Harry was not going to be thrown out and was instead going to be made“
“Seeker?” Ron said in almost complete disbelief, ignoring the piece of steak that was half-way to his mouth. He had seen Harry catch the Remembrall in what could not have been anything less than a fifty-foot dive“ “But first years never“you must be the youngest house player in about“”
““A century,” Harry finished, shoveling pie into his mouth. “Wood told me.”
Ron stared at Harry, his fork hovering in the air.
“I start training next week,” Harry went on. “Only don’t tell anyone, Wood want’s to keep it a secret.”
Ron nodded mutely, thankful when George and Fred entered the Great Hall and came immediately over to the Gryffindor table.
“Well done,” George said quietly. “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,” Fred continued. “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good Harry, Wood was practically skipping when he told us.”
“Anyway, we’ve got to go,” George said, suddenly abrupt. “Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.”
“Bet it’s the one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you,” Fred said quickly as they dashed off.
Ron finally made to move his fork to his mouth when Malfoy appeared with a smirk on his face. Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, their arms crossed menacingly over their chests.
“Having a last meal, Potter,” Malfoy sneered. “When are you getting on 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,” Harry said casually.
There was, admittedly, nothing small about either Crabbe or Goyle, but as the Head Table was filled with teachers, there wasn’t anything either of them could do but crack their knuckles and attempt to look dangerous.
“I’d take you anytime on my own,” Malfoy said, the sneer fading into what almost resembled a human expression. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only“no contact. What’s the matter?” he asked, catching the blank look on Harry’s face just as Ron did. “Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?”
“Of course he has,” Ron said immediately. “I’m his second. Who’s yours?”
Malfoy turned to look at both Crabbe and Goyle, as though sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said after a moment. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.”
Ron nodded in agreement and the trio sauntered back to the Slytherin table.
“What is a wizard’s duel?” Harry asked the moment they were out of earshot. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?”
“Well, a second’s there to take over if you die,” Ron answered off-handedly, finally getting his fork to his mouth. “But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards,” he added when Harry looked at him, panicked. “The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you know enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse him anyway.”
“And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” Harry asked anxiously.
“Throw it away and punch him in the nose,” Ron offered.
“Excuse me.”
Ron and Harry both looked up and groaned. Ron had truly thought that his dinner could not have gotten any worse. He had forgotten about Hermione“who was standing near them, arms crossed as well, buck-toothed mouth grim.
“Can’t a person eat in this place?” Ron growled in frustration. Why wouldn’t anyone let him finish his pie?
“I couldn’t help but overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying“” she started, ignoring Ron.
“Bet you could,” Ron muttered darkly, trying to ignore her as well.
““and you mustn’t go wandering around school late at night, think of all 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 you business,” Harry answered.
“Good bye ” Ron said, smiling unkindly as he waved to her.
Unfortunately, Ron thought as he and Harry lay awake in bed hours later, going to fight Malfoy in the middle of the night was not going to be a very good end to the day“even if they beat him, which was highly unlikely. Ron had spent the rest of the evening giving Harry what both of them knew to be incredibly unhelpful advice, such as, “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them.” There was every chance that they were going to get caught by someone, and Ron felt that Harry was pushing his luck by breaking another school rule today“even if, admittedly, it was his fault that Harry was going to be breaking the rule in the first place.
“Half-past eleven,” Ron finally muttered to Harry after a quick glance at his watch. “We’d better go.”
They pulled on their bathrobes quietly, picked up their wands, and padded in their slippers down to the common room. The fire had only a few embers still burning in it and the armchairs had turned into sinister black shadows with darker shadows dancing over them. Nothing in the common room was moving except for them.
They walked past the fire and the armchairs to the portrait, and were about to push it open when a voice spoke out of the darkness:
“I can’t believe that you’re going to do this, Harry.”
Ron whirled around to see Hermione sitting in the chair closest to them, wearing a pink bathrobe and her perpetual frown. “You ” he hissed, fighting the instinct to call her something worse. “Go back to bed ”
“I almost told you brother,” Hermione snapped. “Percy“he’s a prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”
Ron’s mouth fell open as he fought to understand how anyone in the world could be such a busybody. Didn’t she have a life?
“Come on,” Harry said, ignoring her, and pulled Ron back towards the portrait hole.
She followed them
Ron was nearly spluttering as she said in one great rush, “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the house up, and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.”
“Go away,” Harry said flatly.
“All right, but I warned you. You just remember what I said when you’re on the train tomorrow. You’re so“”
She stopped short and both Ron and Harry turned around to see what she did: an empty portrait. The Fat Lady was gone.
“Now what am I going to do?” she asked, her voice shrill.
“That’s your problem,” Ron said indifferently as he and Harry started down the corridor.
“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.”
The hadn’t even turned the corner when, quite expectantly but infuriating nonetheless, Hermione caught up to them. “I’m coming with you,” she said simply.
“You are not,” Ron said, fighting the urge to strangle her.
“D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three os us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.”
“You have some nerve“” Ron started hotly as the urge grew.
“Shut up, both of you ” Harry said sharply, suddenly. “I heard something.”
It sounded like snuffling.
“Mrs. Norris?” Ron asked breathlessly, trying to squint into the darkness.
They rounded the corner carefully and were more than relieved when it turned out to be not Mrs Norris, but Neville, curled up on the floor and fast asleep. He woke up the moment they were standing over him though.
“Thank goodness you found me I’ve been out here for hours, but 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?” Harry asked.
“Fine,” Neville answered, holding it up to show them.
“Good“well, look, Neville, we’ve got to be somewhere,” Ron said hopefully, beginning to edge away. “We’ll see you later“”
“Don’t leave me ” Neville said frantically, 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, noting with annoyance that it was nearly midnight. He glared at both Neville and Hermione, furious. “If either of you get us caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrel told us about and used it on you.”
Hermione opened her mouth, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet, and she closed, leaving what she had meant to say unsaid.
Thank Merlin Ron thought as Harry beckoned them forward once more and they began to walk; he didn’t know if he’d been able to stop himself if Hermione would have told him off again. She wasn’t his mother.
They moved quickly and quietly along the corridor striped by beams of moonlight coming through the high windows. At every turn, Ron held his breath, expecting to run into Filch or one of their professors. They were incredibly lucky that they hadn’t met a soul by the time they sped up the staircase and tiptoed into the trophy room.
Malfoy and Crabbe weren’t there yet, and it was still too early to hope that he wasn’t going to make it. The crystal trophy cases glistened where the soft light hit them while the cups and shields winked gold and silver in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket.
The minutes ticked by.
“He’s late, maybe he chickened out,” Ron whispered hopefully.
Just then, a noise in the next room made them jump. Ron was still fumbling for his wand and Harry had just raised his when they heard a voice“and it didn’t belong to Malfoy.
“Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.”
It was Filch and he was talking to Mrs Norris. Ron’s mouth fell open with horror, working soundlessly. Harry waved madly for them to follow him as identical looks appeared on Neville and Hermione’s faces. As quickly and as quietly as they could, they scurried single-filed from the room and out the opposite door. The hem of Neville’s robes had just swept around the corner when they heard Filch’s voice again.
“They’re in here somewhere,” he mumbled in the now-empty trophy room. “Probably hiding.”
Ron looked wildly around the corridor for a way to escape, but Harry beat him to it. “This way ” he mouthed, motioning for them to follow him down the long gallery, lined with suits of armor. They started to creep forward and Ron fought the urge to bolt.
Neville squeaked suddenly though and did break into a run“he tripped on the edge of the steps and grabbed Ron’s waist to steady himself. However, instead of catching himself, they both lost their balance and toppled down the steps, crashing into a suit of armor with a clang at the bottom.
Ron was going to kill Neville.
He groaned as he tried to sort his aching limbs from the heap they had become. It would be a miracle if they hadn’t woken the entire school.
“Run ” Harry yelled as he and Hermione made a mad dash down the staircase and across the hallway. Ron and Neville scrambled to their feet to join them, no longer caring if Filch could hear them or would catch them. They swung around a doorpost and galloped down the corridors, Harry in the lead. Without any idea of where they were going, they ripped through a heavy
tapestry and found themselves in a strange passageway. They hurtled through it, coming out right near the Charms classroom and, more importantly, miles away from the trophy room.
“I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the stone wall and wiping his forehead while Neville bent over, wheezing and spluttering.
“I“told“you,” Hermione gasped, clutching her side. Ron hoped she had a stitch. “I-told-you.”
“We’ve got to get back to Gryffindor Tower,” Ron said, sinking against the cold wall thankfully. “Quickly as possible.”
“Malfoy tricked you,” Hermione said, managing to sound disapproving and affronted at the same time. “You realize 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.”
“Let’s go,” Harry said, pointedly ignoring her as he straightened up.
A doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a nearby classroom.
Oh God.
Peeves squealed with delight at the sight of them. The feeling was not returned.
“Shut up, Peeves“please“you’ll get us thrown out,” Harry pleaded, wringing his hands together.
“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,” Hermione begged.
“Should tell Filch, I should,” Peeves said, sounding saintly, his eyes glinting with devilment. “It’s for your own good, you know.”
“Get out of the way,” Ron snapped and took a swipe at the poltergeist as he stepped forward.
This was a bad thing to do, he realized a moment too late.
“STUDENTS OUT BED ” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR ”
They ran for their lives, ducking under Peeves and straight down the corridor where they found themselves trapped between a door and Peeves.
“This is it,” Ron moaned as they pushed vainly against the heavy wooden door, Filch’s footsteps getting closer and closer. “We’re done for This is the end ”
“Oh, move over ” Hermione snarled. And then she grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora ”
Ron was shocked. Not shocked so much that she knew a spell they hadn’t learned in class, or that she had tried to use it. He was shocked that she had used Harry’s wand. A wizard or witch’s wand was a very personal thing“one of the reasons he so hated to use Charlie’s“and to use someone else’s without permission was a high violation. Muggle-borns he thought with a snort. They didn’t know anything.
They did though, know how to open doors. He heard the lock click and the door swung into a dark room. They poured in, slammed the door and the pressed their ears against it, listening.
“Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch asked. “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,” Peeves sing-songed annoyingly.
“All right“please.”
“NOTHING Ha haaa Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say pleasee Ha ha Haaaaaa ” They heard Peeves whoosh away as Filch cursed, his voice sounding further and further away.
“He thinks the door is locked,” Harry said as Ron sagged against the door in relief. “I think we’ll be okay“get off Neville What?
Ron turned to the center of the room at the same time that Harry and Hermione did and sagged against the door again. He was hysterical. That was it. Hysterics were the only way to explain the fact that he was sure he was looking at a monstrously sized three-headed dog.
They were not in a classroom. In fact, they were in a corridor. And just his luck, they were in the forbidden corridor on the third floor and there was now no doubt in his mind as to precisely why it was forbidden.
The dog filled the entire space between the floor and the ceiling with its massive body and three heads. Each of the heads had a pair of eyeballs at least the size of a Quaffle“and Ron did not want to get closer to find out if they were bigger. Three noses were twitching, scenting them out; three tongues the size of his bed were dripping saliva onto the floor past three sets of yellow fangs.
The dog was staring at them with all six eyes, seemingly dazed and Ron knew without a doubt that the only reason they hadn’t all been snapped in half was because they had taken it completely by surprise. But the dog was recovering itself and was starting to growl.
It took them only half a second to gather what was left of their wits before they were all scrambling for the door knob. Harry got to it first and Ron, Hermione and Neville all crowded around him. When the door was finally open, they all fell out into the main hallway on top of one another. Harry quickly slammed the door shut before the dog could get any one of its heads through the small opening and then they flew back down the corridor.
Filch must have gone to look for them somewhere else, because they didn’t see him anywhere else. But they hardly cared“Ron was glad to be alive. And if expulsion meant he was going to be that much further away from that...thing then so be it. They ran and they ran and they didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
“Where on earth have you been?” she asked, her eyes roving over their flushed faces and bathrobes.
“Never mind that“pig snout, pig snout,” Harry gasped and the portrait swung blessedly open. They scrambled through the whole and into the common room, each collapsing into an armchair.
Finally, Ron felt safe. Not that he would ever feel safe again at Hogwarts while that thing was there as well...but the common room was better than nothing.
It was a long time before either of them was capable of speaking. Neville, for one, looked as though he would never speak again.
“What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in school?” Ron said in a fervent whisper once he had caught his breath. “If any dog needs exercise, that one does.”
“You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?” Hermione snapped back. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?”
“The floor?” Harry offered, and Ron smirked in spite of himself. “I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with the heads.”
“No, not the floor,” she said, as though she was talking to a small child“or an imbecile. “It was standing on a trap door. It’s obviously guarding something.” She stood up from her chair, glaring at them. “I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We all could’ve been killed“or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”
Ron stared at her back as she flounced up the staircase to the girls’ dormitory, his mouth hanging open in shock. “No, we don’t mind,” he managed finally, disgusted. “You’d think we’d dragged her along, wouldn’t you?” he asked Harry.
Harry just shook his head as he stood up, heading for the dormitory steps. “Coming?”
Ron shook his head, waving Harry on without a word.
He and Neville sat in the common room together, silent. Ron had never been so afraid for his life as he had been tonight. He had broken at least twenty school rules and had faced expulsion at least ten times. It had been the most terrifying and exciting night of his life. And, with the exception of having Neville and Hermione there, it had probably been the best.
He finally got control of his legs back and stood up, stretching, exhaustion hitting him full force. He bent over to massage his leg, still sore from his tumble down the steps and made no better by all the running they had done.
His eyes fell on Neville who was staring blankly at the chair across from him, his hands clutching the arms of his chair, his knuckles white with the effort. “Neville?” Ron asked. “You okay?”
Neville nodded his head slightly.
“Coming up?”
Neville shook his head.
“You sure? Want me to stay?” Ron asked.
Another nod, another shake.
“Alright then, if you’re sure,” Ron said doubtfully.
And then, with one last look backwards at Neville, he went upstairs to bed.