Late at night, Kyle walked lightly down the corridor with Hannah trailing behind him.
Moonlight from outside the castle poured through the tall windows, slanting across the floor and leaving behind one frosty-white patch after another.
Hannah clung to the hem of Kyle's robes so she wouldn't get lost, her mood absolutely buoyant.
To the blissfully happy girl, tonight's midnight excursion felt exactly like a date—just the two of them.
Of course, that was pure delusion on her part. Kyle was neither a lolicon nor interested in sampling a minimum three-year stay in Azkaban (or a direct kiss from a Dementor).
…Well, unless little Hannah "grew up" someday. That would be a different story.
Kyle had come out tonight mainly to watch the show.
Earlier that evening in the library, Hermione had vented nonstop to the two of them, ranting about Harry and Ron like there was no tomorrow.
In Hermione's eyes, sneaking off to the trophy room at midnight for a wizard's duel with Malfoy was the height of incomprehensible stupidity.
Kyle's suggestion had been simple: camp outside the Gryffindor common room entrance. The moment Harry and Ron stepped out, hit them with a Stunning Spell and call it a night.
Little Miss Beaver, of course, would never do anything so sensible.
In the end, she'd probably tag along out of loyalty to her friends and head straight for the trophy room with the two of them.
Kyle had slipped out after them for the entertainment value first and foremost, and secondly, just in case Hermione ran into Filch or a patrolling professor—he could bail her out.
With Little Professor McGonagall Jr.'s personality, getting caught night-wandering and costing Gryffindor house points would literally be the end of the world for her.
As a veteran night-crawler himself, bringing Hannah along was barely an afterthought.
Thanks to the Disillusionment Charm, Kyle was confident he wouldn't get nabbed by any professors.
Even if he did, the worst-case scenario was losing a few points. No big deal.
Meanwhile, in the trophy room, four young wizards huddled against the wall, eyes fixed nervously on the doors at both ends of the room.
Under the moonlight, the crystal display cases gleamed, trophies, shields, medals, and statues flashing silver and gold.
Harry and Ron held their breath, waiting for Malfoy.
But minute after minute ticked by, and Malfoy never showed.
Instead, someone completely unexpected arrived—
Hogwarts Castle's disciplinarian and sanitation guardian, King of the Broom Cupboard Cleaning Supplies, Loyal Servant and Litter-Box Attendant to Mrs. Norris the Maine Coon, scourge of rule-breakers (and Squib)…
(The rest of the titles are too long to list.)
"Go on, sniff around, my sweet. They might be hiding in some corner," Filch crooned to Mrs. Norris.
Harry nearly had a heart attack. He frantically waved at the other three to follow him—now.
They tiptoed silently toward the door farthest from Filch's voice.
Neville's robe had only just swept around the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.
If it weren't for Neville, they might have made it out cleanly.
Unfortunately, they'd brought along Neville—the clumsy little butterball. Neville tripped over who-knows-what and took Ron down with him.
The two of them crashed straight into a suit of armor displayed in the corridor. The deafening CLANG-CLANG-CLANG was enough to wake the entire castle.
At that very moment, Kyle and Hannah had only just reached the fourth floor. They rounded a corner—and slammed head-on into several dark figures.
The shadows bounced backward like they'd hit a wall, while Kyle stumbled but quickly steadied himself.
Thanks to the sturdy body he'd built through physical training, he recovered almost instantly—and even managed to yank Hannah upright so she didn't fall flat on her face.
The impact, however, instantly broke the Disillusionment Charm for both of them.
Kyle's mastery of the charm wasn't perfect yet; he had to constantly devote a sliver of attention to maintaining it.
"Kyle? Hannah?" Hermione recognized them in the light of her Lumos spell.
She scrambled to her feet, then remembered the pursuer behind them. "Run! Filch is right behind us!"
Kyle had been about to blind Filch with a quick flash of light from his wand—like he'd done plenty of times before—then lead everyone to safety.
Before he could cast anything, a panicking Hermione grabbed his hand in a death grip.
By the time Kyle reacted and tried to pull free, he realized she was clutching him with desperate strength—her knuckles had gone white.
Not wanting to hurt her by yanking too hard, he let her drag him along.
And that was how Kyle and Hannah ended up being hauled by a terrified, fleeing Hermione down the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor.
Staring at the gloomy hallway ahead—cobweb-draped gargoyles leering from the shadows—Ron swallowed hard.
"Are we sure we should be here?"
Only then did Hermione realize where they were: the very corridor Dumbledore had explicitly forbidden them from entering during the Start-of-Term Banquet.
"We really shouldn't be here. This is the fourth floor—the one Professor Dumbledore warned us about."
The moment the words left her mouth, torches along the walls suddenly roared to life with blazing flames, making everyone except Kyle jump.
Harry, who'd been about to turn back the way they came, froze as a cat's meow echoed behind them.
They whipped around. A scrawny Maine Coon stared at them.
"That's Filch's cat! RUN!" Hannah shrieked.
It had to be said: Argus Filch, caretaker of Hogwarts, was the second-most terrifying person in the castle.
(Number one was, without question, Snape.)
Even first-years who'd only been at school a month had already heard hair-raising tales of Filch and his ever-present companion, Mrs. Norris—the very cat now blocking their path.
If Mrs. Norris was here, could Filch be far behind?
The Trio plus Hannah bolted deeper into the forbidden corridor in blind panic.
They raced all the way to the end, skidding to a halt in front of a locked door.
Kyle followed at a leisurely pace, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused smirk.
If he wasn't mistaken, his adorable three-headed dog Fluffy was right behind that door, guarding something on Dumbledore's orders.
These little wizards really were fearless in the face of dogs.
"Quick, hide behind the door!" Harry yanked at the handle. It didn't budge.
"Get out of the way!" Hermione whipped out her wand. "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked open.
Once everyone was inside, Ron—the bold one tonight—slammed the door shut behind them and locked it again.
Kyle raised an eyebrow. Really leaving yourselves no escape route, huh?
Harry and Ron pressed their ears to the door, peering through the keyhole.
Seeing Filch give up and shuffle away, they both exhaled in relief.
"Filch is gone."
"He probably thinks no one can get in—the door was locked."
Meanwhile, the two girls stared in abject horror at the enormous creature before them, blood turning to ice in their veins.
Hermione stammered, "The—the door was locked… for a reason…"
As if smelling intruders, the previously sleeping Fluffy stirred, slowly opening three pairs of groggy eyes.
The moment it registered the tiny humans in front of it, all three heads let out a earth-shaking roar.
Terrified screams filled the room.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
The five young wizards fled in blind panic, tumbling back out the door.
Only after they'd sprinted clear of the corridor did they realize someone was missing.
Hannah's rosy cheeks drained white as paper. "Kyle! Kyle didn't come with us!"
Her voice trembled with fear.
The other three froze in shock.
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.
"No—we have to go back for Kyle!" Hannah spun around and started running back the way they'd come.
Hermione moved to follow, but Ron grabbed her arm. "We need to get a professor!"
Hermione glared at him in disgust. "By the time a professor gets here it'll be too late! Kyle might still have a chance right now!"
Without another word, she tore free and raced after Hannah.
————
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