Charles saw the four of them to the entrance of the Gryffindor dormitory and stopped at the opposite end of the corridor, watching them go in. The Fat Lady, who had been away wandering, had returned to her portrait by now.
"Where have you all been?" she demanded immediately.
First-years sneaking out at night—especially in only the second week of term—was the sort of scandal that could set all of Gryffindor Tower buzzing.
"Never mind that! Pig snout, pig snout!" Harry snapped. He was in no mood to explain himself, and with that, he muttered the password and crawled into the common room first.
Only after the portrait swung shut behind them did they finally breathe out in relief, slumping limply into the armchairs like ghosts drained of their souls. No one spoke for a long moment.
It was Ron who broke the silence first.
"What were they thinking? Keeping that thing locked up in a school! If there's any dog that needs training, it's that one. If Professor Gold hadn't shown up, we'd be dead meat by now!"
Hermione, whose breathing had finally steadied, quickly regained her temper as well.
"I told you not to go! Now look what's happened—we almost got ourselves killed! And worse, Professor Gold will definitely take points from us—and probably give us detention too!" she fumed. "And you three—what do you even use your eyes for? Didn't any of you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" Harry guessed. "I didn't look at its feet. I was too busy looking at its heads."
"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's guarding something. And Professor Gold—he flew up from under that trapdoor!"
She stood up, glaring furiously at them.
"I hope you're proud of yourselves. We almost got torn apart—and if Professor Gold hadn't promised not to expel us, I'd rather have been bitten to death tonight! Anyway, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
Ron stared after her, mouth wide open.
"Go ahead, we don't mind," he said. "What's her problem? It's not like we dragged her along! And she thinks being expelled is worse than being killed? She's mental."
Harry didn't reply. He was already dreading tomorrow afternoon, when he'd have to report to Professor Gold's office for punishment. Ron, however, seemed to take things more lightly.
"Don't worry," Ron said cheerfully. "Even if we get detention, it's not so bad. Didn't Hagrid say that back when he was a student, he'd go to Professor Gold's detentions on purpose if he could? Anyway, tomorrow's Friday—don't you have Quidditch practice?"
"Not yet," said Harry. "Practice starts next week. Tomorrow Wood and the others are just holding tryouts for new team members."
"Right then. Let's go to bed."
But Hermione's words kept echoing in Harry's head long after he'd drawn the bed curtains around him.
That dog was guarding something…
And what had Hagrid said? Dumbledore had gone to rescue the defeated pure-bloods from Professor Gold—but only to retrieve something important from him.
Something important… what could it be?
The next morning, Harry told Ron everything he'd been thinking. The two of them spent half the day guessing what sort of object would need such heavy protection—something Professor Gold himself would personally escort, and that monstrous dog would be used to guard.
"It's got to be either really valuable, or really dangerous," Ron said.
"Or both," Harry replied.
That afternoon, the two of them went to Professor Gold's office with Hermione and Neville. But the office was empty when they arrived. Remembering what Hagrid had said about the "protected area," Harry and Ron began looking around curiously.
It was a perfectly ordinary room—a desk, several leather chairs, and a large bookshelf. It looked more like an executive's office than one enchanted with an Extension Charm.
Since last night's adventure, Hermione hadn't spoken a word to Harry or Ron. Now, seeing them nosing about Professor Gold's office only made her more annoyed.
"Could you two please stop poking around? What do you think the professor would say if he saw you doing that?"
"I just—wanted to see the sanctuary Hagrid mentioned," Harry said lamely. But the moment Hermione gave him that glare, he went quiet at once.
The last thing he wanted was to make Professor Gold think even worse of him.
Just then, the inner door opened, and Professor Gold stepped out.
"So, you're here already. Please, sit down. Have you all had lunch?"
"Yes, Professor," they chorused.
They noticed that he wasn't wearing his wizard's robes today. Instead, he was dressed in something more practical, and there was even a bit of dirt on his sleeves.
"Good. Then let's have some dessert," Charles said kindly, gesturing toward the room. A Mr. Mime appeared from the corner at his call. "Bring some sweets, please."
Moments later, the Pokémon came trotting forward, four plates floating gracefully in front of it.
"Moomoo Milk and some homemade Oran cupcakes," Charles said with a faint smile.
The plates landed gently in front of the students.
"Is that—the Levitation Charm?" Ron asked in awe. They hadn't even been allowed to try that in Professor Flitwick's class yet.
"Of course not," Hermione corrected him primly. "That's psychic power!—Oh, thank you!" she added quickly as Mr. Mime handed her a plate.
"Quite right," Charles said with approval. "Mr. Mime is a Psychic- and Fairy-type Pokémon. Their strong mental focus allows them to use telekinesis."
Before Hermione could look too pleased with herself, however, Charles's tone shifted.
"Now then," he said. "Tell me—why were you wandering around the castle after lights-out, and especially near the Third-floor corridor that Headmaster Dumbledore has forbidden anyone to approach?"
Hermione immediately ducked her head, lips pressed tight.
Finally, Harry spoke up. "I'm sorry, Professor. We didn't mean to. It was Malfoy."
"Draco Malfoy?"
"Yes! Malfoy challenged Harry to a wizard's duel! And I was his second!" Ron added proudly, as if it were something to brag about. With the two of them starting the explanation, Hermione took the chance to add her part.
"But Malfoy lied! He never showed up!" Hermione said sharply. "I warned them, but they were foolish enough to fall for it anyway!"
"So you were trying to stop them?" Charles asked mildly. He didn't sound angry. In truth, Hermione hadn't done anything wrong—though in the eyes of two reckless boys, she had simply been meddling.
Then Neville explained his situation. Compared to the other three, he was truly innocent. After breaking his arm earlier that day, he'd barely recovered, didn't know the password to get back in, and the Fat Lady had gone visiting another portrait.
Too timid to wander the castle alone, he had followed Harry and the others instead.
(End of Chapter)