The dorm room was completely dark.
The only sound was the soft, even breathing of the other boys.
Edward lay on his back.
His eyes were wide open.
He waited patiently.
He did not move.
He listened to the castle settle into the night.
A grandfather clock chimed somewhere in the distance.
It rang twelve times.
Midnight.
Edward sat up.
He pushed the warm yellow blankets aside.
He did not bother changing his clothes.
He already wore dark trousers and a dark, long-sleeved shirt.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.
His feet hit the wooden floorboards, but they did not make a single sound.
He moved with quiet steps he practiced every day.
He walked to the round wooden door.
He opened it slowly, making sure the metal hinges did not squeak.
He slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
The Hufflepuff common room sat empty.
The fire in the hearth was just a pile of glowing orange coals.
The shadows stretched long across the yellow walls.
Edward walked past the comfortable armchairs.
He crawled through the dirt tunnel and tapped the wooden barrel from the inside.
The round door swung open.
He stepped out into the cold stone basement corridor.
The castle felt completely different at night.
The daytime noise was gone.
The air felt heavy and cold.
The portraits on the walls slept quietly in their frames.
Edward liked the quiet.
He put his hands in his pockets.
He walked toward the main staircase.
He climbed up to the first floor, then the second, and kept going.
He stayed close to the walls, walking in the deep shadows.
He reached the seventh floor.
He walked down the corridor toward the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Harry and Ron stood near the painting.
They both wore their school robes over their pajamas.
They looked very nervous.
Ron kept looking over his shoulder.
Two other people stood with them.
Hermione Granger wore a pink dressing gown and had a furious look on her face.
Next to her, sitting on the cold stone floor, was Neville Longbottom.
Neville wore his pajamas and clutched a fluffy robe around his shoulders.
He was shaking.
Edward walked right up to them.
Harry jumped.
Ron gasped and grabbed his wand.
Neville let out a tiny squeak and hid his face.
“Don’t do that,” Ron whispered loudly, holding his chest.
“You walk like a ghost.” “Hello,” Edward said simply.
He looked at Hermione and Neville.
“What are you two doing here?” “I tried to stop them from leaving,” Hermione said, crossing her arms.
She looked very angry.
“I told them it was a terrible idea.
Then the Fat Lady left her painting to visit someone else.
I got locked out.
Now I have to follow you so I do not get caught standing in the hallway by myself.” “And I forgot the password,” Neville sniffled from the floor.
He rubbed his eyes.
“I went out for a walk, and when I came back, the painting would not let me in.
I was sleeping on the floor.
Please don’t leave me behind.
The Bloody Baron went past twice already.” Ron rolled his eyes.
“Great.
A whole crowd.
Let’s just go.
Malfoy is waiting.” Harry led the way.
They walked down the stairs.
Nobody talked.
The only sounds were the quiet shuffling of their shoes on the stone.
Every time a floorboard creaked, or a wind blew past a window, Ron and Neville twitched.
Edward walked at the back of the group.
He felt very relaxed.
He breathed the cool night air.
They reached the third floor.
They walked into the trophy room.
The moonlight shone through the tall glass windows.
It lit up the glass cases lining the walls.
Silver cups, gold shields, and shiny medals caught the pale light.
The room smelled like polish and old dust.
Harry stepped into the center of the room.
He looked around.
The room was empty.
“He is not here yet,” Ron whispered.
He pulled his chipped wand out of his pocket.
Edward walked over to a glass case.
He looked at a silver cup awarded for an old spelling contest.
He checked his pocket watch.
It was ten minutes past midnight.
“I told you,” Edward said quietly.
“He is playing you.” Harry frowned.
“Maybe he got lost.” “He did not get lost,” Edward said, turning around.
“He never planned to come.
He is sleeping in his bed right now.
He probably told Filch to come here.” Ron lowered his wand.
He looked worried.
“You really think he told Filch?” A sudden noise answered Ron’s question.
From the hallway right outside the door, they heard a soft, scratching sound.
It was the sound of claws on stone.
Harry froze.
Ron stopped breathing.
Hermione put her hands over her mouth.
Neville grabbed the back of Harry’s robe.
A cat walked slowly into the trophy room.
It had scrawny, dust-colored fur.
Its large, yellow eyes shined like small lamps in the dark.
It looked right at them.
“Mrs.
Norris,” Ron breathed in terror.
“Filch’s cat.” The cat stared at them for a long second.
Then, it turned its head toward the hallway and gave a loud, sharp meow.
“Run,” Ron said.
“Sniff around, my sweet,” a raspy voice called out from the hallway.
“They might be hiding in a corner.” It was Argus Filch.
His footsteps slapped loudly against the stone floor.
He was coming right for the door.
Harry grabbed Ron’s sleeve.
They bolted toward a second door at the far end of the trophy room.
Hermione and Neville ran right behind them.
Edward followed at an easy jog.
They slipped through the door just as Filch entered the trophy room holding a lantern.
“They are in here somewhere,” Filch muttered to his cat.
“I can smell them.” The five kids ran down a long gallery full of old suits of armor.
The metal suits rattled as they ran past them.
Neville tripped over the hem of his own robe and stumbled.
Harry caught him.
“Keep moving,” Harry whispered frantically.
“In here!” Ron hissed.
Ron pointed to a large, dusty tapestry hanging on the stone wall.
He knew the castle had secret passageways hiding behind the tapestries.
He pulled the heavy fabric back.
Behind the tapestry sat a wooden door.
Ron grabbed the brass handle and pulled.
The door did not open.
It was locked.
“It’s stuck!” Ron groaned, pulling on it harder.
“Leave it,” Harry urged, hearing Filch’s footsteps getting closer.
“Keep running!” They abandoned the locked door.
They ran down another dark hallway.
They ducked behind a large stone pillar and stopped to catch their breath.
Neville panted heavily, looking like he wanted to cry.
“Do you think we lost him?” “I don’t hear footsteps,” Harry said, listening closely.
Hermione glared at Ron.
Her bushy hair was a mess.
“I told you this was a trap.
I told you this was a bad idea.
We are all going to get caught because you wanted to play a silly game.” “Shut up,” Ron hissed back.
Edward leaned against the stone pillar.
He looked up toward the ceiling.
He felt a cold shift in the air.
“Someone is up there,” Edward said calmly.
Harry looked up.
A small man with a wicked face hovered in the air right above their heads.
He wore a bright orange hat and a spinning bow tie.
He held three heavy wooden walking sticks in his hands.
He had black eyes and a wide, cruel grin.
It was Peeves the Poltergeist.
“Oooooh!” Peeves cackled loudly.
“Ickle firsties!
Wandering around at midnight!
So naughty, naughty, naughty.
You will get caught!” Peeves raised one of the wooden walking sticks.
He held it like a spear, pointing it right at Neville’s head.
“Want a stick at the head, little boy?” Peeves teased, shaking the heavy wood.
“Be quiet, Peeves,” Harry pleaded, waving his hands.
“Please.
Put the sticks down.” Peeves crossed his arms in the air, still holding the wood.
He flipped upside down and stuck his tongue out.
“Should I tell Filch?
Yes, I think I should.
It is for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” Ron snapped.
He tried to swat the ghost away with his hand.
That was the wrong move.
Peeves’ grin got much wider.
He took a deep breath.
“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves screamed at the top of his lungs, dropping the walking sticks onto the stone floor with a loud clatter.
His voice echoed down the long stone halls like a fire alarm.
“STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” “Run!” Harry yelled.
They ran again.
They sprinted down the hall.
Behind them, they heard the heavy, fast footsteps of Filch running toward the noise.
“Over here!” Filch shouted.
“I’m coming, Peeves!” The kids burst through a set of heavy doors.
They ran right onto one of the grand marble staircases.
“Up here!” Harry said, leading them up the stairs.
They ran halfway up the long flight of steps.
Suddenly, a deep, heavy rumbling sound shook the stone beneath their feet.
“What is happening?” Neville screamed, grabbing the railing.
The grand staircase detached from the floor below.
With a loud grinding noise, the entire massive staircase began to swing through the empty air.
It moved away from the door they just came through.
It shifted slowly across the vast, open space of the stairwell.
Harry and Ron gripped the handrails tightly.
Hermione closed her eyes.
Edward just stood perfectly balanced on the moving step, watching the stairs turn.
The staircase bumped into a new landing.
The stone locked into place with a heavy thud.
“Come on!” Harry said.
“Filch is going to catch us on the stairs!” They jumped off the stairs and ran through the new doorway.
They sprinted down a long, dark hallway.
They reached the end and slammed right into a solid, heavy wooden door.
Harry grabbed the brass handle.
He pushed it.
He pulled it.
The door did not move.
It was locked.
“We are trapped,” Ron groaned, hitting the heavy wood with his hand.
“We are done for.” They heard footsteps echoing up the nearby stairs.
Filch was coming.
Hermione shoved Ron out of the way.
She looked annoyed.
“Move over,” Hermione ordered.
She pulled her wand out of her pocket.
She pointed it at the keyhole in the brass lock.
“Alohomora!” The lock gave a loud click.
The heavy door swung open.
They all pushed their way inside.
Harry quickly shut the door behind them.
They leaned against the thick wood, breathing hard.
Outside in the hallway, the footsteps stopped.
“Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch asked through the thick wood.
His voice sounded angry and out of breath.
“Say ‘please’,” Peeves giggled.
“Don’t mess with me, Peeves.
Where did they go?” “Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” Peeves sang happily.
“Alright.
Please.” “NOTHING!
Ha haaa!” They heard Peeves zoom away, laughing loudly.
Filch cursed under his breath.
His footsteps slowly faded away down the hall.
Harry let out a massive sigh of relief.
“He is gone.” “That was too close,” Neville whispered, wiping his forehead.
“I cannot believe you dragged me into this,” Hermione said, crossing her arms again in the dark.
Edward did not lean against the door.
He stood in the middle of the room.
He looked around.
The room was incredibly dark.
The only light came from a single window high up on the wall.
The room smelled terrible.
It smelled like wet fur and old, rotting meat.
Edward looked at the floor.
He saw three giant shadows stretching across the stone.
He heard a very deep, wet rumbling sound.
It was the sound of something breathing.
Something very large.
“Harry,” Ron whispered.
His voice shook.
Harry turned around.
“What?” Ron raised his hand slowly.
He pointed toward the shadows.
“Look.” Harry, Neville, and Hermione turned to look.
Hermione let out a tiny gasp.
Neville whimpered.
A monstrous dog stood in the shadows.
It was so large it touched the ceiling.
It had paws the size of dinner plates.
But that was not the worst part.
The dog had three heads.
Three massive heads with terrible, yellow eyes.
The dog was awake.
It stared right at them.
Thick drool dripped from three sets of sharp, yellow teeth.
The drool hit the stone floor with heavy splatters.
The deep rumbling sound was a growl coming from three throats at once.
Ron and Neville were frozen in fear.
Harry grabbed the door handle behind his back.
Edward stood there and looked at the beast.
He did not feel any fear.
He tilted his head.
He looked at the three heads.
He looked at the thick neck.
He saw exactly where the dog could not see.
He knew his own strength.
If the beast attacked, he knew he could hit those blind spots easily and bring the animal down in seconds.
He felt a relaxed smile touch his lips.
He actually thought the giant dog looked a bit silly.
The dog stopped growling.
It let out a deafening bark that shook the walls.
All three heads lunged forward, snapping their giant jaws at the kids.
“Go!” Harry yelled.
He ripped the door open.
Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione tumbled backward out into the hallway.
Edward stayed for a second longer.
He watched the dog snap at the empty air.
Then, he simply turned around and walked out the door.
He closed the heavy wood behind him, hearing the lock click back into place.
They ran.
They did not care about the noise anymore.
They did not care about Filch.
They ran as fast as they could back down the halls.
They found another staircase and ran until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
Harry, Ron, and Neville leaned against the wall, holding their sides.
They gasped for air.
They looked completely pale and terrified.
“What do they think they are doing?” Ron panted.
“Keeping a thing like that locked in a school?
Do they want to kill us?” Hermione got her breath back first.
She stood up straight.
She looked at Harry and Ron with absolute anger.
“You do not use your eyes, do you?” Hermione snapped.
“Did you not see what the dog was standing on?” “The floor?” Harry asked, looking confused.
“I was a bit busy looking at its heads.” “No, not the floor,” Hermione said.
“It was standing on a trapdoor.
It is guarding something.” She turned around and faced the portrait of the Fat Lady.
“Now if you two don’t mind, I’m going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed…
or worse, expelled.” She said the password to the portrait.
The painting swung open, and she climbed inside, ignoring the boys entirely.
Neville hurried in right behind her, eager to be safe in his bed.
Ron looks at Harry and says, “She needs to sort out her priorities.” Suddenly, Harry stopped panting.
He stood up straight.
His eyes went wide.
He looked at Ron, and then he looked at Edward.
“The package,” Harry said quietly.
“What package?” Ron asked.
“When I went to London with Hagrid to get my school things, we went to Gringotts Bank,” Harry explained quickly.
His face looked very serious.
“Hagrid emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen.
He took a little, grimy package wrapped in brown paper.
He told me it was top secret Hogwarts business.” Ron’s mouth fell open.
“Hermione is right,” Harry said, looking down the dark hallway.
“The dog is guarding a trapdoor.
It is guarding whatever Hagrid took out of the bank.” Edward leaned casually against the stone wall.
He listened to Harry figure out the puzzle.
He did not look tired or scared.
He just looked like he was waiting for a bus.
“Are you okay, Ed?” Harry asked, noticing Edward’s calm face.
“I am fine,” Edward said.
He put his hands back into his pockets.
“That was a good run.” Ron stared at him.
“A good run?
We almost got eaten by a monster!” “We were fine,” Edward said simply.
He pushed himself off the wall.
“I will see you guys tomorrow.
Try to get some sleep.” Edward nodded to them both.
He turned around and walked away from the portrait.
He went all the way back down the quiet stairs into the basement.
He tapped the wooden barrel.
The door opened.
He walked into his quiet room and climbed back into his warm bed.
He closed his eyes.
The castle was quiet once again.