THE MIDNIGHT DUEL
“Good — well, look, Neville, we’ve got to be somewhere, we’ll
see you later —”
“Don’t leave me!” said Neville, scrambling to his feet, “I don’t
want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron’s been past twice al-
ready.”
Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione
and Neville.
“If either of you get us caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learned
that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on
you.
Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how
to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet
and beckoned them all forward.
They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from
the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Filch
or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the
third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.
Malfoy and Crabbe weren’t there yet. The crystal trophy cases
glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields,
plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They
edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end
of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and
started at once. The minutes crept by.
“He’s late, maybe he’s chickened out,” Ron whispered.
Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only
just raised his wand when they heard someone speak — and it
wasn’t Malfoy.
“Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.”
It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry
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