Harry Potter 01 - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

said Ron, ‘quickly as possible.’
    ‘Malfoy tricked you,’ Hermione said to Harry. ‘You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.’
    Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
    ‘Let’s go.’
    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 towards 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 me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ’
    ‘Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,’ said Peeves in his annoying sing-song 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 OK – get off, Neville!’ For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown 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 which 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 backwards – 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 dressing-gowns 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 got both her breath and her bad temper back