"What's wrong?" Fred called out with concern, his voice was sharp with curiosity.
Both twins immediately rushed over with hurried footsteps, their earlier caution was forgotten in their eagerness to see what Morris had discovered.
Morris pointed at the wooden door that had just closed, keeping his hand steady and his tone remarkably even given the circumstances. "There's a dog inside. Very big—enormous, actually. And a bit smelly. Well, more than a bit."
A very plain and simple description that failed to capture the full horror of what lay beyond that door.
"What's so special about a dog?" Fred asked with a dismissive shrug, clearly unimpressed by this.
He stepped forward and pushed the door open without hesitation, expecting perhaps an oversized mastiff or something similar.
Then the air in the corridor seemed to freeze for a suspended second.
Three massive heads, each the size of a large barrel, turned in unison toward the doorway. Six eyes glowed with that same crimson light. Three sets of jaws opened simultaneously, revealing rows of dagger-like fangs glistening with saliva.
"Run—!" Fred shrieked with terror.
Fred had never reacted so quickly in his entire life, his survival instincts were overriding all of his rational thought.
He slammed the door shut with a bang, and without even waiting for George and Morris to react, he grabbed both their arms and ran with desperate speed.
George stumbled badly from being pulled so violently, his feet were tangling as he was yanked forward. He nearly fell completely flat on his face, saved only by Fred's bruising grip on his arm.
"Calm down, Fred!" Morris managed to explain while being dragged along at a full sprint. "That thing is chained up! It can't chase us!"
This crucial statement made Fred stop in his tracks so suddenly that George crashed into his back.
He turned around slowly, still visibly shaken and breathing hard, staring fixedly at that innocent-looking door with wide, frightened eyes.
No sound came from behind the closed door.
It seemed they hadn't actually disturbed the beast enough to provoke a full aggressive response. Perhaps it was used to occasional visitors.
Morris shook his arm which had been twisted uncomfortably red by Fred's panicked grip, and said with patient helplessness, "That dog has a heavy chain around its neck. It's secured to something solid. We can go back and look properly now that we know what to expect."
'It was just a dog, wasn't it?' Morris thought to himself.
Although it was admittedly a bit large and had three separate heads, and had some terrible breath that could probably wilt flowers... there was still no need to be quite so frightened.
The three cautious conspirators returned to the doorway, moving more slowly this time, and Morris was first to push the door open again.
Fred and George also followed behind him, but considerably more cautiously than before.
Now Morris could finally get a proper, detailed look at this uniquely featured big fellow without the pressure of panic.
Under the dim yellow glow of a single wall lamp, a three-headed dog easily the size of a full-grown elephant lay sprawling across the stone floor. Its massive body took up most of the available space. Its three heads were all drooping at the moment, heavy with sleep, eyes half-closed to slits, emitting deep, rumbling snoring sounds that vibrated through the floor.
The commotion from moments earlier seemed only to have made it shift slightly and change its sleeping position to something marginally more comfortable.
On its neck, a shiny iron chain was particularly conspicuous even in the poor lighting. The links were each as thick as Morris's wrist, and the chain was secured to a massive iron ring bolted into the wall.
"Merlin's beard..." George whispered with awe. "They actually keep this kind of dangerous magical creature here. In a school with children everywhere."
Fred also drew in a sharp breath of amazement mixed with understanding. "Now I finally understand why Professor Dumbledore specifically told us not to come to this corridor."
Morris stood with his arms crossed calmly, observing the sleeping beast with interest rather than fear. "Looks like your curiosity is thoroughly satisfied now. By the way," he added, "when exactly are we leaving? It looks like it's about to wake up."
As if his words had been prophetic, as soon as he finished speaking, the rightmost head of the three-headed dog suddenly twitched its broad nose, sampling the air. Its eyelid lifted slowly, revealing a crack of glowing crimson underneath.
The crimson pupil visible through that crack focused with precision in the darkness, instantly locking onto the three uninvited guests who'd dared to disturb its rest.
Deep, threatening growls emerged simultaneously from all three of its throats, creating a rumbling harmony of menace that made the air vibrate.
"See, it's already showing us out," Morris said dryly, maintaining his composure. "We should respect its wishes and leave."
He really didn't want to stay any longer in this foul-smelling room where the stench of old meat and dog breath was making his eyes water.
Fred didn't understand why Morris could remain so remarkably calm in the face of a monster that could easily swallow them whole, but he had to admit that leaving immediately was indeed the wisest decision.
"Let's go outside first," he agreed quickly, already turning toward escape.
As he spoke with relief, he turned to pull open the door and make their exit.
However, at precisely that unfortunate moment, George beside him spoke up with sudden urgency. "Wait! Fred, stop! Someone's coming! Right there in the corridor outside!"
His voice had a tone of panic that made them all freeze.
Morris looked sharply in George's indicated direction and discovered that at some point during their adventure; George had produced a piece of parchment in his hand. It looked like some kind of map, covered in moving ink lines and writing.
"Who is it?" Fred asked with anxiety. "Filch? A professor?"
"Professor Dumbledore," George answered with grave seriousness, staring at the parchment with wide eyes. "And he's getting closer and closer to our position! Based on his trajectory, this room might very well be his destination."
Fred's face turned ugly, the color was draining from his face as he processed this terrible news. He immediately waved his wand, casting Disillusionment Charms on all three of them.
Now things were becoming troublesome.
He could only hope desperately that Dumbledore had no actual intention of entering this particular room, that he was just passing by on other business. If the headmaster did come inside, the Disillusionment Charm would probably be nothing more than pathetic self-deception.
For a wizard of Dumbledore's legendary skill and power, seeing through a third-year student's Disillusionment Charm would be extremely easy.
And moreover, Fred thought with growing dread...
He glanced nervously toward the three-headed dog, whose three pairs of glowing eyes were still staring at exactly where they stood.
Even with the Disillusionment Charm active and working!
The beast could clearly still see them, smell them, or sense them somehow.
What should they possibly do?
Morris moved closer to George with slow steps, looking with intense interest at the mysterious map in his hand.
It was a detailed castle structure diagram composed of simple lines that seemed to move and shift slightly.
An ink dot clearly labeled "Albus Dumbledore" was steadily advancing along the corridor directly in front of them, the dot was moving across the parchment. The labeled point was almost at the door of the very room they currently occupied.
At the same time, as if confirming the map's accuracy, clear and steady footsteps came from outside the door.
The footsteps eventually stopped just outside the wooden door, mere feet from where they stood invisible and terrified.
He's definitely coming in!
Fred and George's faces instantly tensed with matching expressions of absolute dread, their bodies went stiff.
Getting caught by the Headmaster himself while sneaking around forbidden corridors at night? That was no simple detention or point deduction, that was potential expulsion. That was owls sent home to parents. That was disaster.
Morris knew instinctively that he should do something, take some action to protect them all.
"Relax," he said softly.
He reached out and grabbed both twins' arms firmly. "Best close your eyes. It might be a bit cramped and uncomfortable in the next few moments."
Before Fred and George could react or ask what he meant:
"Shadow Concealment!" Morris whispered the incantation.
A flowing black shroud of darkness covered all three of them like liquid night, and they instantly twisted and compressed, disappearing completely from the visible world as if they'd never existed.
Fred and George felt the extremely unpleasant sensation of being forcibly stuffed into a narrow, cramped box far too small for three people. The pressure was overwhelming, claustrophobic, suffocating.
They looked around desperately but could see absolutely nothing but only impenetrable darkness before their eyes.
"Where is this? What happened?" Fred and George both asked simultaneously by pure instinct. They felt uncomfortably short of breath, as if the air itself had been compressed along with their bodies.
"Don't talk," Morris's voice sounded in the darkness surrounding them. "We'll be discovered if you make noise. Stay completely silent."
Hearing Morris's familiar voice cutting through the oppressive darkness, the two felt slightly reassured despite their discomfort.
Indeed, Morris's Shadow Concealment technique possessed the capability to bring other people into the shadows with him, pulling them into that dark dimensional space between reality and void.
However, those brought along had to maintain constant physical contact with him. If he released his grip or they pulled away, the Weasley twins would immediately be expelled from this shadow and dumped back into normal reality.
Besides this crucial contact requirement, while existing in this strange shadow realm, Morris could actually "see outside" in a manner of speaking.
In his unique perception, the scene from the outside world was being reconstructed in his mind in a completely different way, it wasn't true vision with light and color, but something else.
He could sense the outlines and shapes of the floor, the walls, the massive form of the three-headed dog, and the person who pushed the door open to enter.
It was a tall person, unusually tall, with a very long beard that seemed to flow down. The figure walked very slowly.
Morris couldn't directly "see" the person's face clearly with any detail—at most, he could tell the person had two eyes positioned normally, a nose, and a mouth.
But based on the information from the mysterious map in George's hand earlier, this person was undoubtedly Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore wandered around the room for several minutes, seemingly conducting a thorough inspection. He checked on the three-headed dog's condition, examined the chain, perhaps looked for signs of intrusion or tampering.
About two tense minutes later, he turned back toward the door and, just as leisurely as when he had arrived, left the room without apparent concern.
Morris silently felt relief.
It seemed that even the Dumbledore, widely considered the most powerful wizard alive couldn't detect or break through his Shadow Concealment technique.
This was very good news indeed.
After another cautious three minutes to ensure Dumbledore was truly gone and not returning, Morris carefully canceled the Shadow Concealment with a thought.
The oppressive darkness was lifted like a curtain being drawn back.
The three figures reappeared in the room gasping slightly.
George immediately glanced down at the map still clutched in his hand, checking the position of various dots. He then led the two others out of the dangerous room and into an abandoned classroom next door, someplace safer for recovery and discussion.
"Whew—" the twins simultaneously let out long, shaking breaths of relief.
The tension and fear were draining away, leaving them slightly shaky.
"Are we safe now?" Morris asked, though he felt reasonably confident they were.
"Very safe," Fred nodded with certainty, having consulted the map again. "No one will come inspect this particular abandoned classroom. It's been unused for years."
Morris's curious gaze fell on the parchment in George's hand, asking about what concerned him most at the moment. "Speaking of which, what exactly is that map? Why can it show other people's names and track their movements in real-time?"
George looked questioningly at Fred, and after receiving his twin's subtle nod of confirmation that sharing was acceptable, he explained carefully, "This is called the Marauder's Map. As for its specific function and capabilities, well, I think you've already witnessed what it can do firsthand."
"Did you make it yourselves?" Morris asked with curiosity and admiration. If they had created such sophisticated magic, they were far more skilled than they let on.
"That's a secret," George said with a mysterious smile, neither confirming nor denying.
"All right, I understand," Morris acknowledged, though he felt somewhat disappointed by the non-answer.
But he wouldn't press the issue or demand information they clearly didn't want to share. Everyone had their secrets.
However, since they deflected that way rather than outright denying creation, the map's origins probably had some questionable aspects, likely stolen or found rather than made.
"So," Fred said, leaning casually against the dust-covered classroom desk and looking at Morris with intense interest, "that thing you just used to hide us... what kind of magic was it? I've never seen or heard of anything like that."
In that desperate situation just moments ago, if it hadn't been for Morris's spell appearing at exactly the right moment, they almost certainly would have been discovered by Dumbledore.
Morris smiled slightly with a knowing expression.
"That's a secret," he replied, imitating George's earlier words with perfect mimicry of tone.
The twins exchanged glances, recognizing their own deflection thrown back at them, and couldn't help but laugh despite everything.