Chapter 85: 85: The Three-Headed Hound

Walking around Hogwarts at night was a pleasant experience, enjoyed not only by the Weasley twins and Nolan but by most students at some point. For Eve, tonight marked her first foray into nighttime adventures. Eve wasn't exactly the model of perfect behavior. Despite her delicate and sweet exterior, the young witch harbored a streak of wildness. "Good evening, Sir Bell," she greeted with a smile, waving at a disheveled, middle-aged knight slouching inside his portrait. The knight politely removed his helmet and bowed toward Eve. Many of the Hogwarts portraits knew Eve by name. The silver-haired girl, isolated last year except for Nolan and Alicia, often conversed with the paintings to stave off loneliness. The portrait dwellers unanimously agreed that Eve was a polite and charming young lady. Humming softly, Eve descended the stairs with light steps. As the staircase shifted beneath her feet, she swayed along with it. At the last step, she let out a playful "Heave-ho!" and hopped down gracefully. That's when she heard it—hurried footsteps echoing through the corridors. Several people were running, their movements frantic and chaotic. Cautiously, Eve ducked behind a suit of armor. A moment later, she spotted a group of Gryffindors careening through the hall, with Filch's angry shouts trailing after them. Well, that's unfortunate. Eve wasn't afraid of Filch. Nolan had already taught her the basics of sneaking around at night—how to outwit Filch. It was common knowledge among the older students that Filch was surprisingly easy to fool. The squib couldn't use magic, ran slowly, and with enough calmness, anyone could slip away unnoticed. Nolan's advice had been clear: If you encounter Filch, don't move or make a sound. The old man's failing eyesight will do the rest. However, tonight Eve's luck seemed to have run out—these four Gryffindors had led Filch straight toward her hiding spot. If things continued like this, there was no way she'd avoid being caught. Her gaze landed on Hermione Granger among the Gryffindors. Stepping out from behind the armor, Eve called out, "Hi, Granger. I didn't expect you to become such a part of Gryffindor's wild bunch. You weren't this reckless before." Hermione jumped, startled by Eve's sudden appearance. The memory of tonight's disastrous turn of events brought a flash of frustration to her face. "It's not like that!" Hermione protested, clearly distressed. "I tried to stop them! I told them night roaming was against the rules, but the Fat Lady left her portrait, and I couldn't get back to the common room... It's all Harry and Ron's fault. I told them—there wasn't going to be a duel! It was all a trap Malfoy set for you!" Harry groaned, already regretting everything. "Can we please not talk about this right now?" Ron, however, narrowed his eyes at Eve suspiciously. As famous as Nolan was, Eve's reputation as the Slytherin girl closest to him wasn't far behind. "You're a Slytherin too, aren't you? You're friends with Malfoy?" Hermione huffed indignantly. "Eve's not like that! She's nothing like the other Slytherins." Eve only chuckled softly. "Whatever," Harry interjected. "I think we should focus on getting out of here." "I second that," Neville whimpered from the back. His round face had gone pale. "If Filch catches me, I'll definitely get expelled. I'm sure the professors have been waiting for an excuse to kick me out. I'm terrible at magic!" As Filch's footsteps grew louder behind them, the group hurried down the corridor, eventually reaching the end of the fourth floor. Panic set in. Harry yanked open a door. "In here! Quick!" Eve froze for a moment. She recognized this door—Nolan had warned her to stay far away from it. "But, this—" "No buts!" Hermione yanked her by the wrist and dragged her inside. The five of them hurried in, slamming the door behind them. Outside, Filch was attempting to wheedle information out of Peeves, who, as expected, delighted in leading him astray. Harry and Ron snickered quietly, reveling in Filch's misfortune. The angrier he became, the funnier they found it. But Neville wasn't laughing. He looked like he might pass out at any second, trembling so hard he might shake the floor beneath him. His pale face turned blotchy, and his breathing grew shallow. Because inside that room... was a dog. Not just a dog—a massive, three-headed hound. It was a nightmare come to life. The ceiling in Hogwarts was already high, but this creature seemed to fill every inch of the room. Its three enormous heads hung low, each sporting greasy black noses and gaping mouths lined with yellowed fangs. Thick ropes of saliva dripped onto the floor with wet splats, pooling like some viscous slime. Eve had no doubt that even a single drop could glue someone to the spot. The beast stared at them, momentarily frozen in surprise—just as they were. Then, it moved. All three heads snapped open, releasing a thunderous roar. The sheer force of its hot, rancid breath blasted into their faces, nearly knocking them over. Eve winced as the vibrating snarl rattled in her chest, reverberating down to her very bones. "OUT!" Harry screeched, fumbling with the doorknob. The five of them spilled into the corridor, practically tripping over one another in their haste. Behind them, the monstrous dog hurled itself at the door, claws screeching against the stone. The sharp grind of its teeth echoed loudly, as if it could chew through solid iron. BANG. The door slammed shut. Panting, the small group exchanged wide-eyed glances, then bolted in the opposite direction without a single word. None of them wanted to be anywhere near that hallway. When they finally came to a halt—several corridors away—Harry bent over, clutching his knees. His glasses were askew, and his hair stuck up in wild tufts. "Wh-what the... what was that?" he gasped between heavy breaths. Ron looked positively dazed. His freckles stood out starkly against his pale skin. When he spoke, his voice was thin and reedy, as if his soul had been temporarily knocked out of him. "Do you... do you remember what Dumbledore said at the start of term? About the fourth-floor corridor being off-limits?" Ron croaked. "I thought he was joking... but that—that thing..." Hermione looked as if she might faint—either from exhaustion or sheer frustration. The poor girl could barely believe what had just happened. Harry Potter, the legendary "Boy Who Lived," was rapidly turning out to be the "Boy Who Gave Her Stress Ulcers." Eve, having finally caught her breath, straightened up and smoothed her robes. "Actually, I was going to warn you about that," she said, brushing silver strands from her face. "There's something... unpleasant behind that door." Harry's head snapped toward her, eyes alight with curiosity. "You know what that was?" he asked eagerly. Eve shrugged. "I know of it. Most people at Hogwarts do—especially Gryffindors." Her expression shifted to one of mild exasperation. "Gryffindors love sneaking into forbidden places. Dumbledore might as well have put up a sign that says, 'Danger! Fun Behind This Door!' They take it as an invitation. I've heard plenty of older students bragging about it. Some even try to get a closer look just for the thrill of it." Harry and Ron visibly deflated at that revelation. They had believed tonight's escapade was daring—unique. A once-in-a-lifetime Hogwarts adventure. But apparently, they were just the latest in a long line of curious Gryffindors.