quot;
It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than
a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting
out of a classroom in front of them.
It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal
of delight.
"Shut up, Peeves -- please -- you'll get us thrown out."
Peeves cackled.
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut,
tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."
"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice,
but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."
"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves
this was a big mistake.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED
DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR"
Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end
of the corridor where they slammed into a door -- and it was locked.
"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door,
"We're done for! This is the end!" They could hear footsteps,
Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand,
tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and the door swung open -- they piled through
it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.
"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick,
tell me."
"Say 'please."'
"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in
his annoying singsong voice.
"All right -please."
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you
didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of
Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.
"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think
we'll be okay -- get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging
on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"
Harry turned around -- and saw, quite clearly, what. For a
moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare -- this was too
much, on top of everything that had happened so far.
They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a
corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they
knew why it was forbidden.
They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog,
a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had
three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching
and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva
hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.
It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them,
and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead
was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it
was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those
thunderous growls meant.
Harry groped for the doorknob -- between Filch and death,
he'd take Filch.
They fell backward -- Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran,
they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried
off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him
anywhere, but they hardly cared -- all they wanted to do was put as
much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't
stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on
the seventh floor.
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at
their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed,
sweaty faces.
"Never mind that -- pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and
the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room
and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.
It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville,
indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.
"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that
locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise,
that one does."
Hermione had g