Chapter 105. Ron Wants to Make a Contribution!
Night fell, and the bright moon was covered by inky clouds, with only flecks of moonlight falling.
The corridors of the castle gradually sank into dimness, with only a torch here and there burning with a faint, flickering flame.
Duncan was still wandering in the castle and had not yet found any trace of Mori the Kelpie.
Mori seemed to have disappeared completely, leaving not a single trace behind.
Duncan cast several locating spells in succession, but they were of no use.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
In the portrait on the wall, the Fat Lady leaned against a chair and snored sweetly, a snot bubble bobbing at her nose.
Suddenly, the portrait frame was carefully prised open a crack, and a red-haired head poked out.
He looked wary, glancing about in all directions.
"Harry, come out.
There's no one around."
Ron pushed the portrait open fully, scrambled out quickly, and turned to help Harry out behind him.
"Are you sure we have to go now?" Harry looked around, a persistent unease in his heart.
"Of course." Ron nodded firmly.
"We'll keep watch near Professor Snape's office.
If he really means to steal the Philosopher's Stone, night is the time he's most likely to act."
Harry's expression wavered.
"But… how can you be sure he'll go to steal the Philosopher's Stone tonight?
And if he keeps putting it off, won't we have to stand watch outside the whole time?"
Ron's confident look faded.
After a moment's silence, he spoke earnestly.
"Harry, don't be afraid of a bit of hardship!
According to Hermione's deduction, the person who targeted you at the Quidditch match this morning was very likely Snape!
And do you remember?
Last time we were out, we saw a figure in black on the fourth floor.
If I'm not mistaken, that must have been Snape as well.
He went for you because he wanted to silence you!"
"If we don't quickly find proof of Snape's crimes, sooner or later he'll come for you again.
By then, there might not be a professor around to help you, Harry!"
Harry was persuaded by Ron.
He nodded slowly.
"All right.
I hope we can gain something this time…"
Ron patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Don't worry.
Even if he doesn't act tonight, what about tomorrow?
The day after?
He'll lose patience one day.
Sooner or later we'll expose Snape's true colours.
Then the two of us will be the heroes who guarded Hogwarts's treasure!"
"You're right, Ron," Harry replied wearily.
After the intense Quidditch match and the afternoon of brainstorming, he was exhausted, and all he wanted was to lie down and sleep.
But Ron was full of energy.
Ever since learning that someone would steal that unknown treasure on the fourth floor, he had been like this.
He would not allow Harry and Hermione to seek help from Duncan and the others, as if he wanted to prove his own ability through this matter.
Urged on by Ron, Harry dragged his feet with difficulty, following behind Ron and climbing the stairs one slow step at a time.
But halfway up, Ron suddenly halted.
His body went rigid at the bend of the staircase, his head turned toward the corridor.
"Ron, what is it?" Harry gently jabbed Ron's waist, lowering his voice to ask.
"L-look over there—what is that thing?" Ron turned back with difficulty, his eyes full of terror, stammering as he spoke.
Ron's expression made Harry tense up.
He leaned past Ron, letting his gaze slip to the spot Ron had indicated.
A figure as tall and thin as a bamboo pole was moving slowly along the corridor.
Its hair, like waterweed, dragged along the floor, leaving slick, wet tracks.
Its two arms were absurdly long—its elbows nearly reached past its knees.
Most crucially, a chill emanated from the thing's body, as if it were a corpse that had crawled up from the water.
It did not seem like a living creature at all.
Harry felt his heart almost leap into his throat.
Choking back the urge to scream, he whispered to Ron, "Have you heard anyone talk about a monster like this?
What is it?"
Ron shook his head slowly, afraid to make even the slightest sound and startle the creature ahead.
"Harry, let's just go…"
"Aren't we going to keep an eye on Snape?" Harry asked.
"Not tonight," Ron replied.
"With that kind of monster around, Snape probably won't make a move tonight."
Ron was filled with fear and had no mind to care about whether Snape stole the Philosopher's Stone or not.
All he wanted now was to leave, return to the safety of the dormitory, pull the covers over his head, and forget this horrifying scene.
Before either of them could move their feet, a clammy breath suddenly wafted from the side, as if a cold draught were blowing over them.
Harry and Ron shuddered uncontrollably.
Gooseflesh prickled across their skin.
They turned their heads stiffly.
A bizarre face came into view.
Its forehead was broad, and its chin was pointed and long, like a stretched-out triangle.
Its pupils were ashen, dull and lifeless.
Its mouth was thin and long, the teeth like saw blades, stained with a red liquid.
The two boys and the monster stared at one another in silence for a heartbeat.
The monster bared its lips in a smile, its sharp teeth glinting coldly in the torchlight.
It seemed to be asking them, "Were you two just talking about me?"
Then, as the two remained frozen, the monster raised its long hand, its claws like sharp little knives.
Harry and Ron swallowed hard.
They spun around in a scramble and tumbled headlong down the stairs.
"Mum, help me!" Ron cried out in panic, no longer afraid of being discovered by a patrolling professor at night.
The monster straightened up, the horrific smile fading from its face.
It stood where it was for a moment, then set off after them at an unhurried pace.
"Who's there?" came an angry shout from the distance.
It sounded like Filch.
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
For the first time ever, they felt Filch's voice was wonderfully sweet to the ear.
"It's us!" the two of them shouted in delight, sprinting madly toward the direction of Filch's voice.
"Filch?
That very scary person Duncan talked about?" the monster muttered.
After a moment's hesitation, it turned and left quickly.
Argus Filch's limping figure appeared from around the corner, with Mrs Norris meowing at his side.
"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, I see you already.
Don't think you can get away.
Tonight I'm going to—"
As he spoke, Filch's voice grew smaller and smaller, fading almost to nothing.
He realised that Harry and Ron, unlike the students he usually nabbed, did not turn and flee.
Instead, they were running toward him in high spirits, as if he were the saviour who would rescue them both.
Filch was completely baffled by this sight he had never seen before.
He stared ahead blankly, and his brain failed to start for quite a while.
"Do they think I don't dare punish them?
Are they provoking me on purpose with this trick?
These two brats are outrageous!" a thought rose in Filch's mind.
He muttered in anger, feeling he had been disrespected, and decided that this time he would punish Harry and Ron most severely.
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