Outside the trophy room.
Ron crept to the corner and tapped Harry's shoulder.
"Harry..."
"Quiet."
Harry spun around. Pressed a finger to his lips.
The corridor was dead silent except for crackling torches. Every sound amplified in the darkness.
Sweat dripped down Harry's face. Ron held his breath, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Is he coming?"
"Not yet."
Too dark to see clearly. Harry listened for footsteps instead.
"Soon though."
"Is Hermione ready?"
Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and shook it out.
"She's waiting. I'll move fast—don't wait for me. Meet at the tapestry."
Ron peeked around the corner.
Nothing. Just torchlight flickering on stone walls.
The homemade Polyjuice wasn't stable. To save time, Hermione had dragged both boys into this.
Fresh from Myrtle's bathroom, they'd returned to Gryffindor soaking wet.
When they heard Tiger was involved, both heads shook violently. Already pale faces went whiter.
Hermione had to bargain—she'd ask Tiger about the Chamber herself.
"Deal!"
"Let me change first."
Harry was sold. The Gryffindor rumors were killing him. He needed answers about the Chamber.
Ron kept shaking his head. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
A chittering sound. Fuzzy legs crawled up her shoulder.
The tiny Acromantula waved its front legs at Ron.
"I just wanted to say..."
"I don't need to change."
Ron caved instantly.
Cold wind swept through. Shadows danced wildly. Heavy footsteps echoed closer—like something massive stalking through darkness.
Tiger's here.
Harry and Ron looked up.
Curfew. Those bold footsteps could only be one person.
Harry threw on the cloak and shoved Ron.
"Tell Hermione."
His job was different. If someone followed Tiger, Harry would lead them away.
Harry took a breath and slipped into an abandoned classroom...
Inside the trophy room.
Hermione stared at the plate, smiling. Something sinister lurked in that smile.
Candied carrots. Celery-endive puree. Honey-chocolate lamb chops.
Beautiful presentation. Every ingredient Tiger hated.
Just step one...
Ron burst in, scanning for Hermione. Out of breath.
"Hermione—quick!"
"Tiger's almost here!"
Hermione snapped back.
Flashed an OK sign. Covered the plate.
"Got it!"
"Watch the door."
The door closed.
Hermione pulled out an oversized Slytherin robe and changed quickly.
Cold air hit her chest.
Her face flushed red, eyes flashing with annoyance.
"That damn—"
"Tiger doesn't even like that type!"
She stuffed her clothes away and grabbed the last Polyjuice vial. Carefully dropped in the hair she'd stolen at the dance.
Pale smoke rose. Hermione closed her eyes and drank.
Awful taste. Her face scrunched up.
Seconds later.
Heat spread through her body. Then itching everywhere.
Hermione's eyes flew open.
This felt completely wrong!
Damn! I've been tricked!
Outside, Ron paced. Footsteps grew louder down the hall. Each one hammered his heart.
Hermione stayed silent inside. That eerie quiet crushed down on him.
"Ron..."
Hermione's voice. Ron pushed the door. Locked.
"Don't come in yet!"
Her voice sounded faint, muffled. Every word strained.
"What are you doing?"
"Tiger's almost here!"
Ron hissed, glancing down the dark corridor.
Silence. Then a trembling plea: "Can you lead Tiger away?"
Filch had locked the main doors. This was the only exit.
Ron froze.
"What? Lead Tiger away?!"
Like someone ordered him to fight Dumbledore. Ron nearly lost it.
"Are you joking?"
"What happened?!"
"No... nothing..."
The voice stumbled, words stuck.
Tiger's shadow appeared at the corner. Ron's heart jumped.
"Okay... okay..."
"For friendship..."
Sensing Hermione's distress, Ron couldn't ask more. Deep breath. Walked forward with grim determination.
"Hey... Tiger... evening..."
Tiger spotted Ron. Paused. Took in his appearance.
Not weird to see him at night.
Weird that he was shaking badly, face ghost-white.
Tiger didn't overthink it. Just nodded.
"Not safe lately. Head back. Tell Hermione not to wander at night."
He noticed Ron's fear. Glanced at the big cat behind him.
"Don't worry."
"She won't hurt you."
Tiger walked past frozen Ron toward the trophy room. The crushing pressure faded.
The cat tilted her head at Ron.
His pale face looked ready to cry. Her green eyes gleamed.
Foolish mouse. Not everyone can face this beast...
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