Chapter 29: Night Wandering Observations
“60 points! How many questions do I have to answer in class to get such a score?”
“Harry! Potter! You didn’t run into Malfoy, you ran into the House Cup! God almighty—”
“Who is God?” Ron mumbled beside him.
Hermione glared at him furiously.
Harry was distressed, but the thrilling encounter that afternoon, and Professor McGonagall’s scolding for several hours, still left him in a state of shock, afraid to retort.
Every Gryffindor student who passed him would grin and ask:
“Potter, we lost 60 points, what did you do?”
“Harry, I heard you knocked over Malfoy? Good job, but how are you going to get the points back?”
Most of them were teasing; few were as serious as Hermione—60 points were nothing compared to making Slytherin look bad!
Harry didn’t want to answer, burying his face in the long table and eating his now-cold pie.
He was starving.
Ron swallowed and couldn’t help but pick up a pie, but Hermione swatted him with her wand.
“That’s Harry’s, didn’t you already eat?”
“I saw Harry eating it with gusto…”
Hermione couldn’t be bothered to reply.
While Harry was eating, she had been chattering on, but when they returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, she started worrying again: “You and Malfoy are going to be in detention together? Where?”
“The Trophy Room, to polish the trophies,” Harry mumbled.
“Just the two of you?”
“And Madam Filch, she’s responsible for watching us.”
Madam Filch was Filch’s cat, and very clever.
She often roamed the halls of Hogwarts at night, catching young wizards out on night wanderings.
Even a cat-lover like Hermione was a bit scared of her, because she looked too frightening.
Skinny as a rake, with dull grey fur and bulging eyes, at first glance, you might even think you were seeing a ghost.
Ron shivered and instinctively hugged Scabbers tighter in his arms.
His summer experiences had made him afraid of cats too.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go, Harry,” he said. “Or talk to a professor about it, change the location. At least you shouldn’t be with Malfoy.”
Hermione nodded repeatedly. She agreed; Malfoy was so cunning, how could Harry possibly outsmart him!
“I want to go…”
Harry said glumly. “Professor McGonagall said my father was a Quidditch player too, and his old trophies are still in the Trophy Room. I want to see them.”
His two friends fell silent, no longer trying to dissuade him.
But when Harry finished his homework that night and prepared to go to the Trophy Room, Ron and Hermione quietly followed him.
“Why are you following me?”
“We’re afraid Malfoy will bully you,” Ron said loyally.
Hermione, with a stern face, said, “I’m afraid you two will start fighting again. If Gryffindor loses any more points, we’ll be down to zero.”
Harry was touched.
He knew his two friends were worried about him!
Harry didn’t want to refuse them, so he said, “Then you have to be sneaky. Don’t let Filch and Madam Filch see you. And don’t let Malfoy see you either; that guy will definitely yell and accuse you of night wandering.”
The two agreed.
Harry walked ahead, holding a torch, with Hermione and Ron tiptoeing behind him. The group went to the third floor and could see the light of the Trophy Room from afar.
Filch stood at the door, holding a torch. Hermione and Ron quickly ducked into a corner, listening to his hoarse, high-pitched voice shout: “Harry Potter, get over here! Don’t think you can escape your detention. You should be glad detention isn’t as harsh as it used to be; they used to use torture devices… Hand over your wands!”
And Malfoy’s furious shout: “Here, you old waste of space! Be careful, if there’s a single scratch on that wand, I’ll have my father fire you, he’s a governor!”
The Trophy Room was noisy. After a while, Filch came out limping and went in another direction, leaving Madam Filch at the door.
Hermione and Ron waited at the corner of the corridor, peeking out, constantly watching that area.
They were ready to rush in and rescue Harry at the slightest unusual sound.
But they were startled first—
A voice suddenly came from behind them: “What are you doing?”
Ron clutched his chest, his mouth agape in terror, like an opera singer about to hit a high note.
“Silencio!”
The spell hit him accurately, rendering him mute.
Hermione, however, had already covered her mouth and turned around, looking at the person behind them with surprise—
Vaughn!
In the dim corridor light, Vaughn was wearing a woolen pajama set, with Guo Guo Cha sitting at his feet.
He was also holding a rope, the other end of which dangled in the air, tethered to… Peeves!
Peeves, as if under some spell, bared his teeth and glared, but couldn’t move at all. He floated around Vaughn’s head like a balloon.
“Vaughn, what are you doing here? And Peeves—”
“I’m taking Peeves for a walk…”
Vaughn explained with a smile.
“Last time I changed the writing on the Slytherin Common Room door, this guy spread it everywhere and caused me trouble. I think he misunderstood me, so I’ve been communicating with him these past few days. Now, we’re friends, right, Peeves?”
As he spoke, he tugged the rope, and Peeves nodded up and down, rolling his eyes.
This scene made Ron press his back tightly against the wall, trying to minimize his presence, afraid of being noticed by Vaughn.
Hermione was also momentarily speechless.
Peeves was the most disliked creature by all students, yet they couldn’t do anything about him. He was neither a ghost nor a living being, but a kind of “non-existent” entity, existing between life and death.
Many spells had little effect on this peculiar sprite.
Hermione’s eyes began to sparkle, eager to ask Vaughn how he did it.
Vaughn seemed to know what she was thinking and smiled at her. “I found it in the library. I’ll teach you when I have time, but for now, we need to deal with another problem.”
As he spoke, a furtive figure had already slid past Ron’s feet, his large eyes scanning the group.
It was Madam Filch.
The ugly cat, as grim as a skeleton, was repulsive to look at.
But Hermione and Ron saw that Vaughn showed no aversion. He took a piece of dried fish from his bag and offered it to Madam Filch.
“Meow—”
Madam Filch let out a chilling cry.
Just as Hermione and Ron worried she would turn and run to find Filch, they were surprised to see the cat obediently lower its head and nibble on the dried fish.
Only Guo Guo Cha flicked its tail in displeasure.
Watching this scene, Ron urgently waved his arms. Vaughn glanced at him and released him from the spell.
“Merlin’s Beard!” Ron exclaimed, his freckles turning red with excitement. “Vaughn, how did you do that? Teach me!”
