"I swear I won't sneak back to the office to sleep tonight, Professor Snape—"
Watching Severus's back disappear around the corner of the staircase, Ares muttered to himself.
"Finding a classroom to sleep in doesn't count as breaking the oath, right?"
So, Ares wrapped his thick cloak around himself and headed up to the fourth floor.
The corridor on the right side of the fourth floor was the restricted area designated by Dumbledore, and the room at the very end of the corridor held a cute, big dog with three heads.
Although Ares was curious about the three-headed dog and hoped to catch a glimpse of it, given that the dog was guarding the Philosopher's Stone, he decided to stay far away from there.
He reached the fourth floor and turned into the corridor on the left.
With winter approaching, Hogwarts was getting chillier late at night!
After the torches were extinguished, the entire ancient castle felt like a deep maze sunk into an icy sea—gloomy, terrifying, and disorienting.
There weren't many rooms currently in use on the fourth floor of the castle.
Apart from the Charms classroom, most of the classrooms were in a state of disuse... dusty and smelling of mold, not exactly ideal places for a comfortable sleep.
Ares couldn't really sneak into a professor's teaching room to sleep... that would be a bit disrespectful.
Of course, the Hospital Wing on the fourth floor was also a good choice, with soft beds and fireplace heating... but unless he was actually sick, he couldn't go there... the provocation would be too obvious!
Hmm—
Considering important factors such as wind shelter, air freshness, humidity, and temperature, Ares, after wandering around for half an hour, selected—
The Trophy Room!
This was a room filled with crystal glass cabinets that glittered in the moonlight. In the dimness, the trophies, shields, medals, and statues in the cabinets shone with silver and gold light.
To preserve these medals, each representing a legendary story, for longer at Hogwarts, this room was very well maintained—the temperature was suitable, and the floor was spotless!
In the silence, Ares looked around at everything in the room and nodded with great satisfaction.
He found a spot sheltered from the wind, far away from the door, spread his thick cloak on the floor, lay down, pulled half of the cloak over himself as a quilt, turned on his side, adjusted his position with his arm under his head, facing a crystal cabinet, and then—
Closed his eyes, sleep time!
........
Moonlight like water projected onto the floor of the quiet Trophy Room, flowing silently.
Suddenly, a hurried, chaotic sound of footsteps came from the corridor outside. Moments later, several sneaky figures slipped into the Trophy Room.
The small figures moved along the aisles separated by crystal cabinets, passing one by one, seeming to be looking for something.
Leading the way was a boy with emerald green eyes and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead—okay, it was Harry.
Harry gripped his wand, looking around, inching forward with cautious steps.
He searched aisle by aisle until he passed a corner, intending to enter the last aisle.
And then—
Hiss!
Instantly, Harry's whole body stiffened, feeling his very soul tremble!
What did he see?
A cold corpse lying on the floor covered with a rag?!
"What is it, did you find Malfoy, Harry?"
Ron, following behind Harry, bumped his nose against Harry's shoulder because Harry stopped abruptly.
Rubbing his nose, he asked alertly while looking over Harry's shoulder.
Hiss!
Ron couldn't help but suck in a cold breath too, goosebumps erupting all over his body!
"Don't scream, Neville!"
Before Neville, seeing the person on the ground, could scream in terror, Granger, whose face was equally pale, covered his mouth!
She practically dragged the three boys out of the Trophy Room.
"Is—is—is he dead?"
In the gloomy corridor, Neville's face was about the same color as the pale moonlight, looking like a dehydrated pufferfish.
"Has to be!"
Every syllable Ron spoke was trembling.
"Did you see his skin color? It was so pale... looked like he'd been dead for days!"
"Oh, stop talking nonsense, Weasley!"
Granger pursed her lips tightly.
"He's just sleeping."
Sleeping... coming to the Trophy Room to sleep on the floor?!
"How do you know?!"
Ron questioned unconvinced, though his face looked a bit better.
"What are you looking at... That's Professor Delfino, didn't you see his face?!"
"How do you know?"
Ron asked again.
"His face was facing down!"
"I saw it through the reflection on the crystal cabinet."
"But why would Professor Delfino..."
Harry opened his mouth in astonishment.
"Do I even need to say it?"
Hermione glared at Harry with a mocking look.
"Professor Delfino must have heard you and Malfoy agreeing to duel in the Trophy Room tonight during Defense Against the Dark Arts class this morning. He's here to catch you!"
Harry moved his lips, unable to find any flaw in Granger's logic.
"Now can you admit I was right?"
Hermione said.
"Malfoy never intended to come out and duel you tonight... He just wanted to get you expelled.
Thinking about it, we're really lucky. Professor Delfino must have waited so long he fell asleep. Otherwise, we could go back to the dormitory to pack our bags right now and prepare to go home tomorrow morning!"
Harry and Ron fell into a gloomy silence.
Although Granger was annoying... her analysis made sense.
After a moment of silence—
"Can we go back to sleep now?"
Neville blinked, speaking pitifully.
"Did you find a student out of bed, Mrs. Norris?"
A raspy, excited voice appeared out of nowhere, and footsteps approached rapidly.
"Sniff around, my dear, they could be hiding in any corner!"
"It's Filch!"
Hermione's eyes widened in horror, her brown pupils contracting to pinpoints. She mouthed,
"And he brought his cat... We're done for, we can't escape!"
"Follow me!"
After a moment of hesitation and panic, Harry's eyes firmed up. Leading everyone, he rushed toward the corridor on the right side of the staircase!
Filch hurried past the Trophy Room, finding nothing.
Ten minutes later—
Clatter, clang, bang, crack!
Four sneaky little figures rushed out from the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor again, screaming as if they had seen a ghost, making some portrait figures roll their eyes at them.
"Mmm—"
In the Trophy Room, the 'dead' person frowned at the noise, yawned, turned over to face the crystal cabinet on the other side, and continued to be 'dead'—
"Hey, brothers, did you hear that commotion? Someone holding a concert?"
In a dusty corridor on the fourth floor, carrying a large bundle and panting heavily as he climbed out of the hump of a one-eyed witch statue, Fred asked with a teasing smile.