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Samee-ur
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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "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."
Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her
that.
"Let's go."
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 Harry'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.
They fell backward -- Harry 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 Harry, and the
portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and
collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.
It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked
as if he'd never speak again.
"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."
Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You
don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she 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."
She stood up, glaring at them.
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."
Ron stared after her, his mouth open.
"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along,
wouldn't you.
But Hermione had given Harry something else to think about as he climbed
back into bed. 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 littie package
from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.
CHAPTER TEN
HALLOWEEN
Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were
still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful.
Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the
three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite