After Madam Hooch left with Neville, Malfoy wasted no time taunting the Gryffindor students. Albert found it difficult to comprehend how someone who claimed to possess noble blood could treat others as if they were mere animals.
Malfoy soared into the air, clutching Neville's Remembrall, and boldly challenged Harry Potter. Hermione tried to stop Harry from flying after him, but her efforts were in vain.
After a tense aerial chase, Harry managed to retrieve Neville's Remembrall. However, Professor McGonagall appeared and briskly summoned both Harry and Albert away.
On the walk back to the castle, Hermione appeared visibly anxious. Ron, trying to reassure her, said, "They're not really going to expel Harry and Albert, are they? I mean, Harry made a tiny mistake at most. No ordinary school would expel someone over something like that—and Albert, he just saved Neville from getting hurt. I'm sure they won't be kicked out."
"But how could Harry do that? Didn't he think about how many points Gryffindor would lose before he jumped on that broomstick?"
Ron stopped and turned to Hermione. "I know you can't stand rule-breaking because of your academic pride, but come on—Malfoy was being a complete bully. Harry just did what any decent person would do."
"That may be true," Hermione replied, "but I still don't understand why you're all so reckless. Can't we just leave these things to the professors?"
Shaking her head, she turned and walked off toward the Great Hall.
Since Flying Class was the last lesson of the day, many students were already making their way to dinner.
When Ron finally entered the hall, he spotted Malfoy sneering across the room—but what caught his attention was that both Harry and Albert were already seated at the table, speaking quietly with Hermione.
He hurried over just in time to hear Hermione say, "You can't just wander around at night, you know." With a stern scolding, she turned on her heel and left in frustration.
Ron took the empty seat beside Harry. Albert glanced at him. "Are you here to scold us too, like Hermione? I didn't even do anything."
"No, I'm not," Ron said with a shrug. "But we can't just let Malfoy get away with this. He treated us like animals."
Albert leaned forward. "And what do you plan to do? Challenge him? Don't you know what Malfoy's like? He's cunning. You'll show up to fight and he'll run off to fetch a professor, claiming you attacked him."
Harry nodded slowly. "Albert has a point. That actually sounds like something he'd do. But if we don't go, he'll mock us for the rest of the year."
Suddenly, Harry's expression lit up with an idea. "Albert, you were amazing with spells today when you saved Neville. And on the train too—you're really good. Why don't you come with us? You could keep watch for any professors."
Albert considered the offer. He didn't have any pressing tasks, and the library's reading hours were already over. Spending the entire evening cooped up in the dorm sounded dreadfully boring.
So he agreed. They arranged to meet in the common room at exactly 11:30 PM.
There was a flicker of excitement in Albert's chest. A nighttime adventure through Hogwarts—wasn't this exactly the kind of thing he dreamed of? He'd always been curious about the castle's hidden corridors and secret places. Even if they got caught, it would only cost them a few house points or a bit of detention. Nothing too serious.
Later that evening, back in the common room, Neville approached Albert and gratefully shook his hand, thanking him sincerely for what he had done.
At 11:30 PM, while everyone else slept soundly, Albert quietly opened the door. He spotted Harry and Ron emerging from the opposite side. They exchanged hushed greetings and tiptoed down the corridor toward the portrait passage.
To their surprise, the light ahead flickered on—and there sat Hermione, arms crossed, in her pink nightgown, wearing a deep frown.
"I can't believe you're doing this," she said, glaring particularly at Albert. "Why did you come along with them?"
Albert grinned. "Relax. Late-night strolls are part of the Hogwarts experience. Look at the older students—how many of them haven't done this before? Besides, I couldn't sleep, so I left my room and happened to bump into Harry and Ron."
"Don't lie, Albert. I know you're not telling the truth. Any student with common sense wouldn't be out of bed at this hour. We all know the consequences."
"Fine, fine," Albert said, raising his hands. "I'll stay here for ten minutes, then head back to bed. Deal?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I know you three planned this together. Let's just follow Harry—he went through that hole."
She crawled through behind them. "Don't you think we should try to win the House Cup instead of losing all the points we worked so hard to earn?"
Albert smiled. "If we do lose points, I'll help win them back, I promise."
They bickered softly as they crawled through the passage.
"Well, I don't really care anymore," Hermione muttered.
She turned to go back, only to find the portrait door had closed—and the Fat Lady was gone.
"Oh no," she gasped. "What do we do now?"
Ron crossed his arms. "That's your problem. We're going ahead—we're already late."
Albert stepped beside her. "Look, you broke the rules too. Might as well come with us now—it's safer than waiting here alone. Sometimes the best way to avoid blame is to share it."
Ron looked doubtful. "Why?"
"With four of us, we can watch the whole corridor. If a professor really does show up, at least we'll see them coming."
Harry nodded. "Everyone be quiet. If we make a sound, we'll get caught for sure."
They walked for ten minutes and finally arrived at the Trophy Room. Moonlight danced across the polished medals and awards.
Harry and Ron stepped inside, while Albert and Hermione stayed by the door, peeking around the corner now and then to keep watch.
Suddenly, Albert spotted a cat leaping down the stairs. Following it came the unmistakable limp of Argus Filch.
He tapped Hermione on the arm. Her eyes widened in alarm. Quietly, they slipped into the Trophy Room to alert the others, and all four tiptoed into the hallway beyond, past the glinting armor.
Their pace slowed to avoid making noise, but Filch's footsteps grew louder—he had clearly caught on to something.
Then disaster struck. In his nervousness, Ron bumped into a suit of armor, sending it crashing to the floor with a deafening clang.
No longer bothering to hide, the four broke into a sprint down the corridor.
They climbed staircases, dashed through halls, and finally collapsed, gasping for breath.
"Where are we?" Ron panted.
Albert scanned the surroundings, heart pounding. "We're near the Charms classroom… which means…"
His voice trailed off. He knew what was nearby: the forbidden corridor… and the monstrous three-headed dog.
"This is the Charms corridor," Hermione confirmed. "I hate to say it, but I was right. Why is it that pure-blood wizards always seem so unreliable in duels?"
"Not all of them," Ron replied quickly. "Only Slytherins pull stunts like that. A Weasley would never do something so low."
"A Weasley? I think I met one of you before. Arthur Weasley from the Ministry helped me when I first entered the wizarding world. He seemed like a kind man."
"Thanks," Ron said with a warm smile. "That's my dad."
"I think we've lost him," Hermione said, wiping sweat from her brow. "I told you before—"
"We should get back," Harry interrupted. "We can't stay here."
Judging by his expression, he probably agreed with Hermione, but refused to admit it.
As they turned to leave, a door swung open—and out popped Peeves, shrieking in delight.
"First-years out of bed! Naughty, naughty! They're going to get caught!"
Before Hermione could plead with him, Albert grabbed her arm and bolted forward. "It's Peeves! Don't even bother talking to him. Run!"
Harry hesitated, stunned—but Ron pulled him forward and the group fled down the corridor at full speed.
"Students in the Charms corridor!" Peeves bellowed gleefully behind them. "Out of bed, out of bed!"
They reached the end of the hallway, only to find the door shut tight.
Filch's footsteps echoed ominously behind them.
"We're doomed," Ron whispered, pounding on the door.
Albert, knowing what lay beyond—the three-headed dog—hesitated only a second before stepping forward. "Step aside."
The others moved, and Albert raised his wand. "Alohomora."
With a click, the door swung open.
"Brilliant, Albert!" Ron exclaimed. "I knew you were something special the moment I saw you in Diagon Alley!"
Albert ignored the praise, grabbed them all by the arms, and yanked them through the doorway just in time to avoid Filch's gaze.
The door slammed shut behind them with a bang.
Filch cursed when he found nothing, lured in by Peeves for no reward. Eventually, grumbling, he stalked off.
Inside, Harry sighed. "Finally, we're safe."
"Shhh, keep your voice down," Albert whispered.
"Why?" Hermione asked, confused.
Albert nodded behind her. "Look."
They turned.
Standing before them, towering from floor to ceiling, was a monstrous dog with three heads.
Three sets of eyes glared. Three sets of jaws drip
ped saliva. The beast looked like it was deciding which of them to eat first.
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