Chapter 25: Three-Headed Dog

After sprinting down the hall, Silven pushed open the classroom door just before the bell, and answered when the professor called his name.

Yes, though he was a ghost, Professor Binns took attendance every class—no one knew how he recognized the students.

Maybe he didn't recognize them at all, and simply did it out of professional habit.

Once his name was called, Silven slumped onto his desk, his eyelids growing heavy, his vision blurring.

Sunlight streamed through the grid-like windows, strands of light intertwining as if wrapped around runic symbols and silver unicorn tail hairs.

The weather was perfect—not too cold, not too hot—and with the ghost professor's voice, thick as a sleeping draught, not sleeping would be a crime.

But someone else didn't think so.

Silven half-dozed, hearing someone talking; he didn't want to pay attention, but the other person persisted, voice growing louder and louder.

"Did Professor McGonagall really let you onto the Gryffindor team?"

"You're amazing!"

"Did you see Malfoy's face? He was stunned."

"That's a Nimbus 2000—the fastest broom."

"Harry, can I ride it? Just ten minutes?"

The voices buzzed like a hundred Cornish pixies buzzing around Silven's ears; he hesitated whether to tell Ron to quiet down.

But then, suddenly, the two changed the subject.

"Is he asleep?" Still Ron's voice.

"Probably," Harry said. "Neville told me Silven's been busy with something these days—always sleeping past midnight. Yesterday too, right? When we came back last night, his dorm light was still on."

"He's really… working hard," Ron muttered.

"Forget it. As long as he doesn't hear us," Ron seemed to lower his voice.

"Yesterday was terrifying. I never thought Malfoy was such a coward—he challenged us to a duel, then never showed up."

"I suspect Filch was the one he called. Why else would he show up on the exact floor we were on?"

"I was careless," Harry said. "I didn't think Malfoy would be that low."

"His whole family's low," Ron sneered. "We almost got eaten for dinner by that three-headed dog… but honestly, it was thrilling—we actually escaped from beside the three-headed dog."

"Why do you think Dumbledore keeps such a dangerous magical beast on campus?"

"Hermione said it's to guard something, didn't she?"

"Oh, don't bring her up," Ron snapped. "She's crazy—thinks getting expelled is worse than being bitten to death by the three-headed dog."

"Hmm… I think she's right," Harry sounded like he sided with Hermione.

"You're crazy too," Ron said, but dropped the subject.

"Then what do you think it's guarding?"

"I don't know," Harry said, lowering his voice again. "Could it be… something from Vault 713?"

"The one that got robbed?" Ron involuntarily raised his voice.

"Shh," Harry hurriedly warned him. After Ron quieted, he continued: "Yes, that one. Hagrid took something out of the vault, and suddenly Hogwarts has a new room guarded by a three-headed dog. Isn't that obvious?"

Thud!

It sounded like someone swallowing hard.

"It must be something important," Ron said. "I bet it's gold."

"Probably not," Harry said. "I saw it once—it was a dirty little bundle. If it were gold, it wouldn't be worth bringing back to school and guarding with a three-headed dog."

Ron mumbled something, but his voice was too quiet to hear.

Harry didn't hear it either.

"What did you say?"

"Ah… I said, what do you think it is?"

"I don't know," Harry thought of a more plausible answer. "Something that size… maybe diamonds?"

"What's that?"

"A kind of jewel," Harry explained. "More valuable than gold. Aunt Petunia has a necklace with a tiny stone—smaller than a bean—but she treasures it like a relic, only wearing it on the most important days."

"That must be expensive," Ron said. "But Muggle jewelry probably isn't worth much to wizards—goblins haggle hard. I'd say it's the recipe for Chocolate Frogs. Best chocolate ever."

"But why would the Chocolate Frog recipe be in Hogwarts?"

"Maybe someone asked Dumbledore to keep it safe."

…

The two chattered beside him, growing more excited.

Silven had pieced it together.

Yesterday, they'd arranged a wizard's duel with Malfoy at midnight—but Malfoy stood them up.

Malfoy didn't show. They only met Filch. To avoid being caught, they and Hermione, who'd come to stop them, hid in the forbidden room and saw the three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor.

And Harry believed the thing the three-headed dog guarded was connected to the robbed Gringotts vault.

Hmm… three-headed dog…

Silven's drowsiness vanished. He opened his eyes, staring at Harry and Ron, both pale with fear.

"Y-you weren't asleep?" Ron's voice trembled.

"I'd say I was kept awake by you two," Silven yawned. "Next time you whisper secrets, remember to actually whisper."

Harry and Ron turned red and white, mouths opening and closing, staring at Silven.

"Relax. I'll keep it secret," Silven guessed their worry and said outright.

"Th-thanks."

"No problem," Silven waved a hand. "But I'm curious—did you really go inside that room?"

"What?"

"You mean that room on the fourth floor that's been forbidden to enter."

"Ah, yes, that's right," Harry said, with Ron nodding in agreement beside him.

Seeing how interested Silven looked, the two of them gradually lowered their guard.

Eleven years old is just the age for showing off, and they were no exception — the moment Silven pressed them, they spilled everything.

"Looks like the headmaster had a reason for not letting us in there — the three-headed dog inside is ten feet tall."

Ron gestured an exaggerated height with his hands, apparently trying to prove just how harrowing yesterday's experience had really been.

"Quite something," Silven clicked his tongue.

"Just dumb luck — we don't want to go through it a second time."

Though that's what they said, the excitement and the look of not-yet-satisfied on both their faces showed they'd have jumped at the chance to do it again.

"Then how did you get in?" Silven asked, putting on a casual air. "Didn't you run into any professors along the way?"

"No," Harry thought for a moment and said. "Filch chased us for a long time, and we had no choice but to duck into that corridor."

"Right, we had no idea beforehand which floor it was on."

(End of chapter)