Midnight. The Castle.
Four figures pressed against the wall, moving through the pitch-black corridor.
Rove was in the lead.
> [Racial Trait Active: Hobbit Stealth Lv2]
> [Footstep Sound: -100%]
Harry and Ron didn't have such convenient talents. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. Even though they were trying to be quiet, to Rove, it sounded like Trolls tap-dancing.
"Shh!" Rove stopped abruptly and made a hand signal.
Hermione, wearing a pink bathrobe, followed at the rear, looking reluctant and nervous.
"We're here," Harry whispered.
Ahead lay the Trophy Room. Moonlight spilled in through the high windows.
Rove narrowed his eyes, scanning every corner of the room.
No Malfoy. No Crabbe. No Goyle.
"Did he get scared?" Ron whispered excitedly.
"No. It's a trap."
Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps came from the other end of the corridor. Accompanied by a wheezing, sniffing sound.
> [WARNING! Hostile Unit Detected!]
> [True Name Identification: Orc Taskmaster Filch]
> [Weapons: Lantern (Illumination), Torture Devices]
"Sniff around, my sweet," a raspy voice croaked. "They're nearby... I can smell their fear..."
Filch was talking to his cat.
Harry's eyes went wide with terror.
"Hide!" Hermione shrieked in a whisper.
Rove didn't waste words. He flashed behind a large suit of armor instantly. Then, he reached out with both hands, grabbed Harry and Ron, and yanked them into the shadows.
Hermione smartly ducked behind a trophy cabinet.
Seconds later, Filch entered the room.
He held a dim oil lamp, his wrinkled face looking twisted and hideous in the flickering light.
At his feet, his pet, the cat Mrs. Norris, was scanning the room with bulbous, lamp-like red eyes.
> [WARNING! Avatar of the Eye of Sauron is scanning the area...]
> [Concealment Value: 50%... 40%...]
Rove held his breath.
If they were discovered... If a fight broke out...
In a split second, Rove simulated three different ambush plans in his mind (like knocking him out with the frying pan?), but immediately rejected them all.
At this moment, the cat stopped in front of the suit of armor, lingered for a moment, and was just about to leave.
Suddenly!
"Aha!"
A shrill, piercing voice exploded in mid-air.
Peeves.
Hogwarts' most troublesome poltergeist was floating in the air, grinning down at the hiding students.
"Ickle Firsties! Wandering about at midnight! Tut, tut, tut!"
> [WARNING! Elite Monster Encounter: Screaming Wraith]
> [Attribute: Ethereal (Physical Immunity)]
> [Skill: Scream Summon]
"Shut up, Peeves!" Ron hissed. "Please!"
"Don't want me to tell Filch, eh?" Peeves grinned wickedly, then took a deep breath and screamed at a volume that could shatter glass:
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED! IN THE TROPHY ROOM!"
Filch spun around, a flash of ecstatic light in his eyes.
"Where? Where are they?"
"RUN!"
Harry shouted.
There was no point in hiding anymore.
The four of them burst from their hiding spots and sprinted for the door in unison.
Rove ran at the back. He glanced back at Peeves floating in the air, a flash of anger in his eyes.
He yanked out his wand (shortsword), tempted to take a swipe at this evil spirit. But he sadly remembered that he hadn't enchanted his weapon (learned any spells against ghosts) yet.
"I'll remember you, wraith!" Rove roared, turning and running.
They sprinted down the corridor. Filch's footsteps were hot on their heels, getting closer and closer.
"This way!" Harry led the charge toward a hidden door.
They burst through a tapestry, rushed down a secret passage, and emerged into a long gallery.
Just as they thought they had shaken Filch off, a dark shape suddenly appeared in front of them.
"Oof!"
Harry crashed into something soft.
It was a ball of flesh curled up on the floor.
Neville Longbottom.
He had forgotten the password to get into the common room and had fallen asleep in the corridor.
"Harry?" Neville rubbed his eyes, waking up. "Am I dreaming?"
"Stop dreaming! Run!"
Rove rushed over, grabbed the dazed Neville off the floor with one hand.
"Friendly unit recovered! Continue retreat!"
The five of them stumbled to the end of the third-floor corridor.
Dead end.
In front of them was a locked wooden door.
Harry pushed it, but it wouldn't budge.
"We're done for!" Ron yelled in despair. "We're going to get caught!"
The footsteps behind them were clearly audible now. Filch was closing in.
"Move aside!"
Rove tossed Neville to Ron, took a step back, and raised his frying pan.
> [Skill Prep: Door Breaker Strike]
> [Judgment: Physical Breach]
"No!" Hermione rushed forward, shoving Rove aside. "Alohomora!"
She tapped the lock with her wand.
Click.
The sound of the lock springing open.
Rove froze for a second.
This... this is magic?
No ramming? No lockpicking? Just a spell?
That's... that's cheating!
But now wasn't the time for reflection. They piled inside, slammed the door shut, and pressed their ears against the wood.
Outside, Filch arrived.
"They're in here somewhere..." Filch's voice prowled outside the door. "I guess they're hiding..."
"Or turned into thin air," Peeves cackled gloatingly nearby.
Filch walked away, cursing. The sound faded into the distance.
Inside the door, the five of them collapsed on the floor, gasping for air.
"We... we're saved..." Neville said with a sob.
Rove suddenly felt a chill.
A chill far more terrifying than Filch.
This chill was coming from behind them.
> [WARNING! Super-Giant Biological Reaction Detected!]
> [Danger Level: Skull Class (Certain Death)]
> [True Name Identification: Carcharoth the Wolf]
Rove turned around stiffly.
By the moonlight filtering in through the window, he saw it.
Behind them, filling the massive room from floor to ceiling, stood a monster.
It was colossal.
It had three heads.
Three pairs of mad, yellow eyes.
Three drooling, fang-filled maws.
It was looking down at the five little snacks that had intruded into its territory.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned around slowly.
They didn't even have the strength to scream.
Rove's fingers were trembling.
He slowly, very slowly, reached into his robes, where he had hidden a steak intended for a midnight snack.
"Calm down, Baggins," he told himself internally. "It's just a dog. A slightly larger dog."
"As long as it's not Smaug... we have a chance."