Hogwarts castle keeps her secrets, sometimes for centuries.
A person wandering the corridors at night – or even at four o'clock in the morning – might suddenly encounter the unexpected.
Two such persons were not wandering, not exactly, at four o'clock in the morning, but were striding quickly, purposefully, concealed by an Invisibility Cloak, when they realized that something … unexpected … was also roaming the dark, deserted hallways of Hogwarts.
eee…
A faint sound, followed by a faint echo. It was hard to tell where the sound ended and the echo began.
"Did you hear that?" Ron Weasley's eyes widened as he turned his head to peer behind his friend. "From down there? I think it came from down there."
Harry Potter turned partway to peer intently through the transparent fabric of his father's cloak.
"I didn't hear anything."
Silently, the two Fourth Year Gryffindors stared down the length of the towering corridor.
In certain less-used hallways of the castle, fewer wall-mounted sconces burned constantly after midnight. Some corridors were not lit at all, unless someone happened to be passing through them. Then, the traveler would experience the sight of sconces suddenly illuminating automatically as he or she approached, only to extinguish themselves when that person had passed. These torches were spaced roughly twenty feet apart in hallways that could run on for hundreds of feet. Seldom were more than three torches lit at any given time, the middle of which was closest to the traveler; the one previously passed was ready to die out, while the one ahead provided light for an additional distance of about fifteen feet. If a person was unused to traversing the endless passages in the wee hours, the impenetrable darkness suffusing either end of a lengthy corridor could prove quite unnerving. Over the centuries, more than one student had been overwhelmed by the fear of what might lie in wait, lurking there in the Black beyond the light of the farthest flickering torch, beyond the reach of a Lumosed wand tip.
Such students had been found frozen by their own fear, unable to take another step in any direction, screaming in terror. Such students had been summarily hauled away to the Hospital Wing and administered a Calming Draught. Such students subsequently received detentions for being out of their Common Rooms after hours. Such students seldom worked up the nerve to break curfew ever again.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were not such students.
After three and a half years of breaking curfew for various reasons, whether bizarre or innocuous, they were well accustomed to the sight of sconces progressively lighting up, then dying down of their own volition as the boys traveled to and from whatever forbidden destination lay on that night's agenda.
eeee…
"There!" whispered Ron. "I heard it again. It sounded … closer."
"Did it?" Harry frowned. He'd heard it, too, this time.
They waited, holding their breath, and before many seconds had passed, heard the sound repeated.
eeeee…
"It's definitely coming this way!" Ron hissed.
"Calm down, Ron. It may only be Mrs. Norris with a mouse."
eeeeee…
"Mouse! THAT loud?"
Harry heard Ron gulp. "Okay, then. Maybe she caught a rat. Or a Cornish pixie."
eeeeeee…
"Bloody hell, Harry! It's getting closer all the time!"
One of the three lit sconces extinguished itself, the end one in the direction from which they'd come. A huge chunk of darkness pushed toward them, causing Harry to swallow hard. Seconds later, the end torch in the opposite direction went out, since it had not detected additional movement progressing along their section of the corridor.
Eeeeeee…
"Harry…"
Harry stared at the new chunk of darkness. If they recommenced their travel, that torch would relight, but with the … thing … approaching, he didn't know if they should risk it, since several of the remaining twenty or so sconces that lay ahead might still be burning when the Thing arrived at the farthest other end of the passage – a sure sign that someone had just traveled this corridor. Not knowing what could possibly be making the eerie shriek, he didn't think it would be too smart to advertise their presence if they could possibly avoid it. After all, though Dumbledore had never been specific, he'd always said that it wasn't safe to be out of their Common Rooms at night. Up until now, it had seemed like such an empty threat…
EEeeeee…
The high-pitched sound relentlessly continued its approach…
"That. Is. NOT. A. RAT!"
Harry nodded wordlessly. Ron was right. Mrs. Norris could not be responsible for that sound, and if Filch's cat had any sense, unlike the two of them, she had probably high-tailed it to the farthest end of the castle the moment that the first "eee…" had drifted through the ancient stone corridors. Just like he and Ron should have done.
EEEeeee…
But, they hadn't. They were stuck in the middle of the corridor under a single flickering torch. If they took off, fleeing the sound, the torches would light, indicating their recent presence to the Thing coming from behind. If the noise was somehow something to do with Filch himself, Harry didn't want to imagine the type of detention they'd get for being out of bed after four in the morning. Filch's detentions were even more disgusting than Snape's!
EEEEeee…
"Only one thing to do, Ron. We have to hide!"
"But … we're under the Invisibility Cloak already…" Ron's voice trailed off in confusion.
"But this is one of those corridors with the automatic torches, Ron. The cloak works fine in corridors that stay fully lit all night, but the torches here sense our presence, even when we're concealed. That's why this torch," he pointed to the one just a few feet away," hasn't gone out. We have to get into the niche, there, see? And then hope that the torch DOES go out!"
"Right," agreed Ron, his face paling with trepidation. "Let's go."
The boys settled into a niche in the corridor wall, drawing back into the shadowed depths.
The single torch remained lit, its sentinel light flickering silently against the centuries' old stone. Right in the very middle of the extremely long passage.
EEEEEee…
"Do you know any Charms to extinguish a torch?" Harry whispered urgently.
Ron shook his head. "Hermione would, I'm sure."
Harry snorted. "Hermione wouldn't be stupid enough to be in the corridors at four in the morning."
"If it's Filch, we're DOOMED."
"Just what I was thinking," Harry said grimly.
The torch went out.
The Black in the corridor was absolute.
"Bloody hell!"
The Black felt Thick.
Heavy.
Smothering.
EEEEEEe…
"Bloody HELL!" gasped Ron as both boys jumped in the blackness. "It's almost here!"
The high-pitched sound bounced off the walls…
They waited.
And waited…
Gasping in the thick, black air…
EEEEEEE!
The unearthly shrieking squeal had reached the end of the cross corridor.
"Please don't come down here please please pleasepleaseplease…" muttered Ron, his fingers digging into Harry's forearm.
"That COULDN'T be Filch," whispered Harry frantically, his heart pounding in his throat. "How could it be? We should have run when you first heard it!"
EEEEEEE!
Ron whimpered. "We're gonna die, Harry! We're gonna DIE!"
EEEEEEE!
"Maybe it's Peeves…?" Harry desperately grasped at the last straw he could imagine, but his adrenaline was doing a war dance along his nerves.
EEEEEEE!
"Hey – is that light? Down there?"
Ron was right, Harry realized. In the Black, even the faintest tinge of light offered relief, and a tinge of light was, indeed, filtering past the end of the cross corridor, although their own corridor remained suffocatingly dark. "A PERSON must be down there, Ron. A ghost can't set off the torches, nor a poltergeist."
EEEEEEE!
"Oh, SHIT!" Ron sounded like he'd almost wet himself. "Look, Harry! LOOK!"
Harry saw it: a dark, hunched figure lurched spasmodically as it rounded the corner into their corridor, faintly silhouetted by the vestiges of faint torchlight showing from the end of the cross corridor.
EEEEEEEEEE!
The high-pitched shrieking squeal coincided with the hunched figure's slamming sideways against the unyielding stone wall. The squeal overlapped its own echo, sounding desperate in the narrow confines of the corridor, the high keening bouncing repeatedly off the opposite walls.
Amidst the cacophony, the hunched horror lurched toward them, causing the first sconce to light up about two hundred feet away from the boys' niche.
EEEEEEEEEE!
The black figure seemed to clutch its bent midsection in agony before willing itself upright as it approached the flaming sconce.
"It's SNAPE!" gasped Harry, shocked at the realization.
EEEEEEEEEE!
"What's WRONG with him?" Ron actually put his hands over his ears to block out the worst of the deafening squeals emanating from the Potions Master.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Snape doubled over again, his harsh gasps for breath now audible above the resounding echoes of his shrieking squeals.
Harry collapsed against Ron, shaking all over with silent laughter. "Don't you SEE?" he gasped rather hysterically. "Don't you SEE? He's got the hiccups!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
Ron DID see, then, and he collapsed in turn against Harry's shaking form. "Oh! Oh, NO! The loud, PAINFUL kind! Ohhh! This is too good…" The redhead clutched his ribs, gasping for breath against his own silent laughter.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Snape forced himself to stagger forward, and after so many steps, the second torch ignited.
"Isn't there some sort of magical cure for hiccups," whispered Harry. "There MUST be."
Ron nodded, still grinning. "Mum's an expert at it. Had to be, really. Fred and George spent YEARS deliberately swallowing air."
EEEEEEEEEE!
Harry stared at Snape's doubled-over figure as the piercing squeal resounded and rebounded overhead. "So why doesn't he cure himself?"
"You can't," said Ron with a snicker. "You can't cast the Charm upon yourself. It has to be cast by someone else upon you."
Harry gaped at his fellow Gryffindor. "You're joking!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"Seriously!"
They waited as Snape forced himself upright once more.
"He must have hiccupped his way all the way up from the dungeons," giggled Harry.
"And this is the fifth floor!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
Harry frowned. "Why didn't he go to Madam Pomfrey? The Hospital Wing is on the third floor."
Ron just shook his head, still holding his aching ribs. He had no idea that trying NOT to laugh could hurt so much more than guffawing aloud!
Snape soldiered on toward the third sconce. They could see the flickering light gleaming as it reflected off his perspiring pale brow.
"We have to help him," Harry said quietly, disturbed in spite of himself at the sight of his dreaded Potions Master suffering apparent agony.
"What!" Ron blurted aloud, fortunately drowned out when Snape EEEEEEEEEE-ed again.
"Help him, somehow," Harry repeated. "We can't let him go round the castle like this. It's not right."
Ron snorted slightly. "You and your bleeding heart."
Harry glared at him.
Shrugging, Ron demanded, "Well, what do you suggest?"
"Maybe a Muggle remedy?"
Ron's eyebrows went up. "Muggle remedy? What do Muggles do?"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"Hold their breath, breathe into a paper bag, hold their breath while drinking a glass of water," Harry ticked off possibilities on his fingers. "Let a rounded teaspoonful of sugar melt in their mouth while holding their breath –"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"What's with all this 'holding their breath' stuff?"
"I think it has to do with carbon dioxide, but the sugar one usually worked on Dudley."
"It would!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"Plus, there's this accupressure point on the inside of your wrist, way down between the tendons…"
"Accu-WHAT?" Ron's eyes popped.
"I read about it in one of Aunt Petunia's magazines."
Ron just gaped at him. "Muggles are … ODD, did you know?"
"And there's always giving someone a good fright to cure hiccups." Harry had come to the end of his list. "What do you think?"
EEEEEEEEEE!
Snape had passed the fourth torch, staggering alongside the far wall of the corridor. He managed to get in several rasping breaths before the next abominable hiccup erupted.
EEEEEEEEEE!
"A fright?" Ron stared at Harry. "You're not saying that you mean to scare … HIM?"
They peered at the man who had paused, harshly gasping, halfway along the corridor.
"I don't suppose you brought along a paper bag or a spoonful of sugar tonight?" Harry whispered back.
"As if…"
"Well, then," said Harry, "the element of surprise IS on our side."
"OUR side?" Ron's voice suddenly sounded dangerous. "You're not dragging ME into this, mate! No bloody WAY!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"We've got the cloak!" Harry argued. "He'll never actually SEE us. We just wait until he gets close enough to light that torch right there – and then we leap out…"
"NO! Absolutely NOT!" Ron's face was the angriest Harry had seen it since Malfoy had called Hermione a Mudblood back in Second Year. "We'll be EXPELLED! That's SNAPE down there, in case you'd forgotten!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
Harry glared at his friend. "You KNOW Fred and George would do it. Wouldn't you like to be able to tell them you'd lived up to the precedent they've set?"
"You're MAD!" Ron spat. "You're completely MENTAL!" He crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "And quite frankly, at this moment, I'm feeling a lot more comfortable being related to PERCY! So THERE!"
Snape had managed to make it past the fifth and sixth sconces and was approaching the seventh.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Both boys cringed at the loud, sharp squeal. Harry didn't know what decibel level Snape's hiccups would register, but he could hear his ears ringing with more than mere echoes!
"You're really going to do it, aren't you?" Ron sank his teeth into the knuckle of his left index finger. "You're REALLY going to DO it!"
The eighth torch lit. Two to go.
"On the count of three…" whispered Harry, holding up his fingers for the countdown.
"Bloody hell! Bloody hell! Bloody HELL!" moaned Ron.
EEEEEEEEEE!
"I'm telling you, Ron, he'll NEVER see us! Just leap out on three, scream bloody murder, then ease back down the corridor a few feet – the way the torches are already lit. He'll search the niche, for sure."
Ron's face would have equaled that of a man walking to the gallows. "Harrrry…"
EEEEEEEEEE!
The ninth sconce ignited, and the Gryffindors could easily see Snape's pale, pain-wracked face.
Harry held up his finger, signaling Ron to wait.
Ron rolled his eyes … as IF Harry expected him to leap out too SOON! He couldn't do this… He couldn't DO this! HE WOULDN'T DO THIS! But Harry was going to…
Harry held his breath, waiting, waiting…
The tenth torch ignited…
One finger –
(Ron shook his head frantically.)
Two fingers –
NO!
Three fin –
EEEEEEEEEE!
"AAAAAAAAAA!"
Harry's wild shriek crashed into Snape's sharp squeal, and in the moment that Harry leapt forth into the corridor, Ron realized too late that he should have gone with him after all, for the cloak went with Harry…
After scuttling about fifteen feet along the torch-lit section of corridor, Harry paused to look back at the spot where Snape had fallen over with the shock of the auditory attack, turned his head to grin gleefully at Ron…
Ron?
Ron?
Where the heck WAS Ron?
Not under the cloak with Harry…
"… shit …" came a chagrined whisper from the niche.
"WEASLEY!"
The Potions Master shoved himself to his feet from the undignified sprawl in which he had landed, his wand thrust unerringly toward the opening of the shadowed niche.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Harry's jaw dropped. It hadn't even worked! Snape STILL had the hiccups! After THAT!
"Weasley!" growled Snape, in a dangerous, rasping tone, "What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself! IMMEDIATELY!"
"Harry did it."
Harry's jaw, just starting to rise, abruptly fell again. He stared at the niche's opening, from which Ron's tiny voice had emerged. The niche was barely visible to Harry from the extremely shallow angle, and Ron himself remained out of Harry's sight, although he could hear the other Gryffindor's terrified voice without difficulty.
Ron had just … BETRAYED … him. RON! His best FRIEND! Harry felt stunned beyond words.
"POTTER?" Snape demanded sharply.
"Yes, Professor," Ron agreed emphatically.
"Where?" Snape glared this way and that.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Ron's head peeked out of the niche, followed by a pointing finger. "He was planning to go that way, Professor."
"I don't see him, Weasley," Snape stated the obvious in his most chilling voice, frowning fiercely at the empty passage.
"He's here, Professor," Ron affirmed, nodding his red head vigorously. "He can't have gone far – the torches would have lit up again if he'd gone all the way down the corridor."
EEEEEEEEEE!
Snape nearly doubled over once more, but he seemed determined not to show that degree of weakness in front of a student.
"POTTER!" he thundered, the despised name bouncing off the towering stone walls, all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. The man swept his wand toward the lit section of the corridor. "Show yourself! NOW!"
"Yeah, Harry!" Ron put his two knuts in. "Show yourself, you bloody coward! I'm not going to take the rap for this by myself! It was all your idea, and you were the one who SPRANG at him…"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"FINE!" shouted Harry, whipping the cloak off his head when Snape had chanced to look away toward Ron momentarily. By the time the Potions Master looked back, Harry was fully visible, and the clock had been hastily stuffed into his back pocket.
"Potter!" Snape advanced upon him, but Harry stood his ground. "Explain yourself!"
"He said it was a Muggle remedy, Professor," offered Ron with an uncharacteristic sneer in his voice. "For curing hiccups. Doesn't look like it worked, huh, Harry?" Ron glared at his dark-haired counterpart.
"I can speak for myself, thank you," grated Harry furiously, glaring right back at Ron.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Harry's ears were ringing for sure after having the deafening squeal go off right in his face. He winced a bit and massaged his ears. "But it's true, Professor. I'd always heard that a good fright would cure the hiccups. We were just trying to help. Honest!"
"Leave ME out of this, Harry," Ron ordered angrily. "I had NOTHING to do with leaping out and screeching at him!"
Harry's temper escalated. "Okay! FINE! It was all ME! Satisfied?" Harry glowered at his … well, his FORMER friend. "So much for loyalty," he muttered.
"LOYALTY?" bellowed Ron. "What do you take me for – a bloody HUFFLEPUFF? You're MENTAL! I TOLD him not to do it, Professor!"
EEEEEEEEEE!
This time, Snape had to reach out his left hand and support himself against the stone wall, gasping in pain.
"Professor Snape?"
After a couple of painful wheezes, Snape turned his black glare full upon Harry. "WHAT, Potter?"
"Um … you're the Potions Master."
"Well spotted," Snape growled, "though redundant. But what else should I expect from the Boy-Who-Lived?"
Harry glared at the man briefly before pressing on. "Isn't there a potion to cure hiccups? Ron mentioned a charm, but he said a person couldn't cast it upon himself. But shouldn't there be a potion, too?"
EEEEEEEEEE!
Snape groaned before answering. "In fact, there is a potion. However…" he hesitated, "I … appear to be missing a key ingredient necessary to its formulation." He turned his blackest glare full upon Harry. "Someone has been stealing from my personal stores. AGAIN!" He leveled his wand at the boy. "What do you have to say for yourself, Potter?"
"ME?" Harry's eyes popped. "I – I haven't stolen anything, Professor. I was just trying to help – "
EEEEEEEEEE!
"Perhaps Madam Pomfrey –"
Snape drew himself up to his full height. "Obviously, it has escaped your notice, Potter, but it happens to be the middle of the night." He cast a quick Tempus. "Four twenty-two a.m., to be precise. People – NORMAL people – are sleeping in this castle, including several sick and injured students in –"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"… the Hospital Wing. I did not wish to disturb them by seeking assistance from Madam Pomfrey."
"Oh." Even to Harry's own ears, his response sounded highly inadequate.
Snape sneered, reinforcing Harry's opinion of himself. "Oh, indeed, Potter."
"Sorry, Professor." Harry's mind was racing. Perhaps, if he could keep Snape talking, he'd forget about his earlier accusation about stolen potions ingredients. Not that Harry had actually stolen anything, but he certainly didn't appreciate Snape falsely accusing him of doing so. "But if you aren't going to the Hospital Wing, sir…"
After a couple of heaving breaths, the Potions Master continued. "I was en route to Ravenclaw Tower –"
"Ravenclaw?" Harry interrupted.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Both boys winced before Ron exclaimed, "Oh! I get it! You wanted Professor Flitwick to cast the charm."
Snape glowered at him. "Excellent deduction, Weasley," he said mockingly, "but it will hardly earn you any points for Gryffindor."
Harry saw that Ron almost said something, but with an effort he refrained. Probably something along the lines of, when had Snape EVER given points to Gryffindor?
"The two of you shall accompany me to –"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"… Ravenclaw Tower," Snape ordered, although the squealing hiccup seemed to erase the power from his sneering tone, "and then I shall escort you to your Head of House. However she chooses to deal with you herself –"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"… your detention is MINE, as it was I who discovered you wandering the corridors at night."
Neither boy tried to point out that they had been hiding in the niche for quite some time before Snape had "discovered" them by falling backwards at Harry's screech.
"MOVE!" demanded Snape, pointing his implacable finger at the darkened end of the corridor in the direction which he'd originally been headed.
As the Gryffindors obediently started off, Snape EEEEEEEEEE-ed again, this squealing inhalation followed abruptly by an unexpected hollow belch that seemed to rip upwards from the man's very boots.
Ron's helpless laughter turned into a sharp yelp of pain as the Potions Master aimed a Stinging Hex at the boy's backside. Harry wisely kept his lips clamped shut and tried to hold his breath until his own urge to laugh had dissipated.
The boys were forced to walk at Snape's painfully slow pace, pausing whenever he had to recover from a particularly painful hiccup. It seemed to take forever for them to finally reach the end of the lengthy corridor, and when they did, Snape made them halt.
"I am going to use a Muffling Charm to keep my hiccups from being heard by –"
EEEEEEEEEE!
He emitted an agonizing groan before continuing, "… the portraits. I have managed to get this far by avoiding portraited passages and taking shortcut stairways, but I'll be damned if I go climbing up the main staircase –"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"… when every portrait can hear me. Be warned – the charm will only muffle any sound that I should make. I shall, however, be able to hear EVERY sound either of you is unwise enough to produce, and that includes speech. Understood?"
Harry and Ron nodded silently, almost as if they themselves had had a Muffling Charm applied.
Then, something occurred to Harry, and he just had to ask. "Professor, if the Muffling Charm keeps your hiccups from being heard, why didn't you use it before now?"
Snape sneered at the boy. "For the simple reason, Potter, that the charm exacerbates the severity of the painful aspect of these hiccups. Any further questions, or may we proceed?"
Harry quickly shook his head.
EEEEEEEEEE!
Snape quickly waved his wand, then seemingly mouthed the word, "MOVE!" Almost immediately, he doubled over, then staggered forward, herding the boys ahead of him.
Slowly, they climbed the marble staircase from the fifth floor corridor. Harry and Ron kept looking back over their shoulders to keep tabs on Snape's progress. The man clutched the marble railing, hauling himself ever upwards, and Harry found it outright amazing that the Head of Slytherin had managed to climb all the way from the dungeons while battling such agonizing paroxysms. Harry also noticed that most of the portraits' occupants remained sleeping; however, one painted wench opened her eyes as they passed, taking great interest in the Potions Master's unsteady ascent. She cracked a grin and winked at the boys before nudging her bawdy companion awake, jerking her chin at Snape. To Harry's dismay, the two women laughed raucously and raised painted wine goblets to toast the staggering man in black.
Ron seemed to be echoing Harry's sentiments. "Blimey, Harry," he whispered, not so that Snape couldn't hear him, but so as to avoid waking additional portraits. "They must think he's drunk! It'll be all over the castle before breakfast!"
Both boys looked uneasily at Snape, who had doubled over again with a painful, albeit now-silent hiccup, and the man glared fiercely back at them before staggering once again against the railing.
Harry suddenly thought of something, hesitated – for he would normally NEVER do something unnecessarily foolhardy with his father's Invisibility Cloak, but the circumstances were dire enough, after all – and kicking himself even as he moved over toward Snape, whispered, "Professor, put this over you. You'll be able to climb past the portraits without them seeing you." And he held out the cloak to the stumbling Potions Master.
Snape whipped the material over himself, completely disappearing from their view, except…
"His robes are hanging out behind," observed Ron.
But only for a second. Quick as a wink, the trailing long hem was whisked out of sight. Then Harry felt a stern push in the small of his back.
"Let's go," he told Ron.
He and Ron climbed several steps, then paused to wait for Snape. When Ron felt the shove this time, he said, "Onwards and upwards."
The journey became a series of forward travels, pauses, shoves. At one point, Snape's black-clad arm appeared, pointing down a corridor which neither of the boys had ever explored before.
"I think we must be near the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower," Ron murmured after they had progressed slowly along the corridor for a several minutes. "Percy would know. He's been all over the castle as a prefect."
All of a sudden, each boy felt an iron grip around his upper arm as Snape grasped them through the cloak for support. After a few moments' pause, the invisible Potions Master began propelling them down a different dimly-lit passage. Another painful pause, then more propelling. Around two quick corners, up a short, curving staircase whose steps seemed extremely shallow, then sideways through an illusioned wall that wasn't solid in the least.
At last, Snape's hand appeared again, and he knocked upon a beige wall that suddenly transformed itself into an ornately-carved blue door. As they waited for a response from within, Snape's hand disappeared under the cloak again.
Just as Harry thought they might ought to knock again, the blue door cracked open, and when they looked down, tiny Professor Flitwick was peeking warily out at them, his wand tip showing through the narrow space.
"Potter! Weasley!" Filius Flitwick's visible eyebrow crinkled into what looked like the right half of a serious frown. "What in Merlin's name are the two of you doing in Ravenclaw? Not to mention, it's not even five in the morning!"
"Sir," Harry addressed the Charms professor respectfully, "We have a problem. Or, rather, Professor Snape has one. He needs your help, sir."
"Indeed?" Flitwick opened the blue door more fully. "And just what is the nature of Professor Snape's problem?"
EEEEEEEEEE!
Harry and Ron started violently, not realizing that Snape had lifted the Muffling Charm, while Flitwick tumbled over backwards at the shrieking squeal, rolling a bit across the carpeted floor of his quarters before he scrambled to his feet again, the very picture of furious outrage in a small, burgundy dressing gown.
"DETENTION!" he squeaked, pointing a stubby finger at each boy in turn. "DETENTION! You should be ashamed! I don't know how you boys located my private quarters, but for you to come here to prank me in the middle of the night…"
His angry voice trailed off as Snape slid the Invisibility Cloak off his head, attempting to smooth the static from his hair as it stood on end.
"Professor, I have – " and he EEEEEEEEEE-ed again, thankfully without belching this time, "… the hiccups."
The other three wizards had jerked sharply once more at the sheer force of Snape's loud squeal, and Flitwick eyed the Potions Master with a combination of shock and partially-concealed amusement. "You don't say," he murmured, massaging his ears which were still ringing. "You don't say."
Snape glowered at the diminutive Charms professor. "I certainly DO say so, Professor, and I would appreciate your – "
EEEEEEEEEE!
"… assistance."
Flitwick stared up at Snape's imposing figure. "Assistance, Severus?"
Snape growled. "The CHARM! NOW, if you please, Professor." He gritted his teeth.
"Oh, right! Yes! The charm! Indeed, the charm should solve things straightaway." Flitwick's eyes twinkled with a humor that rivaled Dumbledore's on a good day as the small wizard backed up and took careful aim…
"DO IT!" thundered Snape, looking more and more as if he wished to pick up Flitwick by the throat to throttle him.
"Very well. Here we go…"
EEEEEEEEEE!
"MERLIN'S HANGNAILS! Get on with it!"
Even to Harry's and Ron's eyes, Flitwick seemed to be dragging out the process far more than necessary, and the tiny professor appeared to be having more than a bit of fun at the towering Potions Master's expense. Harry bit his lips to keep from grinning, and Ron was looking anywhere but at Snape himself.
Flitwick chortled merrily and gave a complicated swishing motion with his wand. "That should do it, Severus."
They all four waited … and waited … and waited…
But Snape's hiccups were cured at last.
Now that the drama was over, Harry took a quick glance around Flitwick's sitting room, amazed to see that all of the furniture was just Flitwick's size. Everything looked like normal Hogwarts furniture, however – not prissy dollhouse furniture. Polished hardwoods framed striped damask upholstery in shades of burgundy and blue, with tufted occasional chairs done up in pale cream. Numerous bookcases, of course – this was the abode of the Head of Ravenclaw, after all – the polished shelves stretched all the way to the tall ceiling, accompanied by a rolling ladder whose rungs were spaced twice as close together as usual. Harry wondered a bit at the ladder, then realized that magical books might be adversely affected if one were to fetch them down and reshelve them with magic. All of the doorknobs he could see had been set low to accommodate the Charms professor's stature, and beyond one half-opened door across a darkened hallway, Harry caught a glimpse of a miniaturized four-poster with gold hangings, the bedside lamp casting a warm, flickering glow upon a russet-toned Oriental rug.
"We're awfully sorry to have bothered you, Professor," Harry apologized politely, "but Professor Snape really did need your help."
"That's right, Professor Flitwick," chimed in Ron. "We were just trying to help him get to your quarters, so do we still have detention with you? We didn't prank you, sir, honest!"
Flitwick laughed warmly. "No, boys, no detention. I can see the way of it now. You're to be commended for your efforts. Wouldn't you agree, Severus?"
Snape's black eyes drilled sharply through the young Gryffindors. "I would, indeed, Professor, IF I had not first caught them roaming the fifth floor corridor just after four o'clock in the morning."
"Oh." Flitwick's cheerful countenance fell. "Oh, dear. That's … unfortunate. Quite unfortunate, indeed."
"Quite," agreed Snape, using the voice that all students dreaded. The voice that made students wonder NOT whether they would get detention, but rather, how many and how disgusting they would be. "I am about to escort them to Professor McGonagall."
Flitwick gave Harry and Ron a sympathetic look. "Are you certain you wouldn't rather wait until tomorrow morning, Severus? You know how Minerva hates to be awakened in the middle of the night for anything less than an absolute emergency."
Snape sneered. "I've often supposed that is precisely why she has always refused to set alarms on Gryffindor Tower. If she had to investigate every alarm that went off when a student sneaked out after curfew, Professor McGonagall would NEVER catch a wink of sleep, WOULD SHE?" he grated, leaning down until his nose practically bumped Harry's.
Sighing, Flitwick tightened the belt of his dressing gown. "I'll leave you to it, then. Good night, boys." And in a stage whisper, he added, "Good luck."
Harry and Ron smiled weakly back at Flitwick before Snape herded them out of the small professor's quarters. The blue door vanished, replaced by the beige wall the moment the door clicked shut.
"MOVE." Snape pointed ahead, and the trio set off across the upper floors of the castle toward Gryffindor Tower to face an irate Professor McGonagall.
"Four o'clock in the morning! WHAT were the two of you THINKING?"
The Head of Gryffindor, her graying auburn hair hanging over one shoulder in its customary nighttime plait, stared angrily at the two Fourth Years as they stood in her sitting room, shuffling their trainers uneasily on the sturdily-woven tartan rug. Firelight flickered from the warm hearth over their stammered apologies, her lengthy and severe dressing down, the boys' further apologies – all punctuated by dark sneers from the Potions Master.
At long last, McGonagall jerked the belt tight on her own tartan dressing gown and allowed Snape to escort the boys to the Fat Lady's portrait. Before permitting them to enter the Gryffindor Common Room, Snape assigned detentions for every night for the next four weeks, weekends included. The Potions Master then pronounced the Gryffindor password, to the boys' absolute shock, and the portrait swung open.
Harry hesitated in the doorway.
"Professor?" he asked tentatively.
"YES, Potter?" The man's silky sneer not only sounded in his voice, it seemed to gleam in his black eyes, almost as if he knew what Harry would say.
"About my cloak – "
"I shall give it to the Headmaster, Potter. In one month's time, AFTER you are finished with your detentions. And I shall be sure to regale him in glorious detail about what transpired on the fifth floor tonight. Or, more precisely, at four twenty-two this morning."
Harry tried one more ploy. "Yes, sir, but the cloak actually helped you out tonight. Remember?"
Snape smirked. He very nearly smiled with evil glee.
"That is the ONLY reason why I have not already destroyed the cloak, Potter." He shoved Harry all the way into the Common Room to join Ron, who was waiting just beyond the portrait door. "And take care, gentlemen…" Snape's voice dropped to a hissing whisper that seemed to penetrate the boys' very souls. "If EITHER of you EVER breathes a WORD to ANYONE about our … MEETING … in the fifth floor corridor, and ANYTHING WHATSOEVER about what transpired BEFORE, DURING, AND AFTER said meeting – and I do mean ANYTHING WHATSOEVER – you will find yourselves in detention NIGHTLY until the end of your days here at Hogwarts. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
Ron nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. We'd be in detention until the end of spring term."
"CORRECTION, Mr. Weasley." Snape's eyes glinted extremely dangerously. "You and Mr. Potter will find yourselves in detention NIGHTLY until you have passed your N.E.W.T.'s."
Both boys gulped.
"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR NOW?"
Harry and Ron nodded, desperate for Snape to close the door and return to the dungeons where he belonged.
"Excellent," sneered Snape. "Sweet dreams, you Gryffindor imbeciles."
The portrait door finally swung shut, and both boys blew out the breath they hadn't even realized that they had been holding.
"Whew!" gasped Ron. "Detention till… You know this means we can never tell ANYONE, Harry. Not even Hermione."
"Especially, Hermione," agreed Harry, feeling a bit ill. "She'd never stop lecturing us, and if someone overheard…"
"Right."
They stood in the silence of the deserted Gryffindor Common room, considering the night's events.
"Can he do that?" Ron asked at length. "Really?"
"Detention through the end of Seventh Year?" Harry shrugged. "I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past him."
Ron shook his head. "No, I mean, can he really destroy a student's personal belongings?"
Harry sighed. "I suspect we're better off never asking him that. G'night, Ron."
"G'night, Harry."
But before climbing the steps from the Common Room to their dormitory, they looked at each other and grinned. Knowing it was the only time they ever would do it, they chorused, "EEEEEEEEEE!"
Hogwarts castle keeps her secrets, sometimes for centuries.