Neville Longbottom and The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 7: The Midnight Walk

Neville's uneasy slumber was abruptly interrupted by the sound of hushed whispers and approaching footsteps. Startled, he shot up from the cold stone floor and squinted into the dim light to see three familiar figures, Harry, Ron and Hermione standing before him.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours. I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed," Neville exclaimed, relief flooding through him at the sight of his friends.
"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout,' but it won't help you now. The Fat Lady's gone off somewhere. How's your arm?" Harry's voice was low and urgent as he spoke.
Neville nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Fine," he replied, holding up his arm. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."
Harry's expression softened with relief. "Good. Well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere. We'll see you later," he said, starting to turn away.
Panic gripped Neville as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear. "Don't leave me!" he pleaded, his voice quivering. "I don't want to stay here alone. The Bloody Baron's been past twice already."
Ron looked down at his watch and looked directly at Hermione and Neville "If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learnt that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and use it on you," he hissed.
Neville felt a heap of anxiety at Ron's words, but before Hermione could retort, Harry silenced her with a sharp hiss, urging them all to stay focused and silent as they pressed on.

The corridors they passed through were bathed in silvery moonlight streaming in through the tall windows, casting eerie shadows and adding to the sense of urgency that propelled them forward. Neville's heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement as he followed his friends, unsure of their destination or the purpose of their late-night escapade.

Neville's breath got caught in his throat as he entered the trophy room with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, his eyes widening at the sight that greeted him. The crystal trophy cases glimmered in the moonlight, casting a magical glow over the room. Cups, shields, plates, and statues sparkled in silver and gold hues, creating a mesmerizing display that seemed to come alive in the darkness.
As they edged along the walls, Neville's gaze flitted nervously to the doors at either end of the room, his heart pounding in his chest. Harry drew his wand, the soft glow casting flickering shadows across their faces. Neville couldn't help but wonder if there were truly dangerous things lurking in the shadows of Hogwarts at night, unseen and waiting.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron's whispered words broke the tense silence, his voice tinged with a hint of impatience and concern.
Just as Neville's nerves were reaching a fever pitch, a noise from the next room shattered the stillness, causing them all to jump in surprise. Harry's wand was poised, ready to defend, when they heard a voice that sent a chill down Neville's spine.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner," Filch's voice carried through the darkness, accompanied by the soft padding of Mrs Norris' paws.
Neville's blood ran cold as he realized they were not alone in the trophy room. Filch, the ever-watchful caretaker, was close by.

Without a second thought, Neville scurried after Harry, his friends close behind, as they made a silent dash towards the door, desperate to escape the approaching footsteps of Filch.
Neville's robes billowed around him as he rounded the corner, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The sound of Filch's entrance into the trophy room echoed in the corridor behind them.
"They're in here somewhere, probably hiding," Filch's gruff voice carried through the air, sending a wave of dread through Neville and his friends. Harry's urgent gesture towards a different direction spurred them on, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Neville followed as they crept down a long gallery lined with suits of Armor, their metal forms looming ominously in the dim light.

As they moved cautiously through the gallery, the sound of Filch's footsteps growing closer and closer, Neville's nerves got the better of him. A sudden surge of fear gripped him, and in a moment of panic, he let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. Before he knew it, he stumbled, reaching out instinctively to grab Ron around the waist for support, but they careened into a suit of Armor with a resounding crash.
The clangourous noise reverberated through the corridor, a cacophony that seemed to shake the very walls of Hogwarts. "RUN!" Harry's urgent cry pierced the chaos, and without hesitation, the four of them sprinted down the gallery, their footsteps pounding against the stone floor as they fled, their hearts racing with adrenaline.
Neville didn't dare look back to see if Filch was following, focusing only on putting as much distance between them and the caretaker as possible.

The pounding of their footsteps echoed off the stone walls, the urgency of their flight lending an edge of desperation to their escape.
Through twists and turns, they tore through a tapestry and stumbled into a hidden passageway. Emerging near their Charms classroom.