Harry Potter: The Book of Sin

Chapter 15 – A Nighttime Exploration of Hogwarts

Night had fallen, and a slight chill crept through the air. Even inside the towering Hogwarts Castle, the cold hinted that autumn had truly arrived.

Along the corridors, the characters in the paintings were either dozing off, whispering quietly to their neighbors, or had left their frames entirely, leaving only the painted backgrounds behind.

On the eighth floor, the Gryffindor common room was dim and quiet. Most students had already returned to their dormitories. Only the faint, flickering red glow of the fireplace remained, casting long, wavering shadows across the room.

As Harry and Ron tiptoed past a cozy armchair, a sudden voice made them freeze.

"I can't believe you're actually going through with this, Harry."

A lamp flared to life with a soft pop—it was Hermione Granger. She stood in a pink dressing gown, arms crossed and frowning.

She did not look pleased.

"You!" Ron growled. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped back. "Percy is a prefect—he'd put a stop to all this nonsense."

Harry couldn't believe someone could be this much of a busybody.

"Let's go," he said to Ron, pushing open the portrait of the Fat Lady and crawling through the gap behind it.

But Hermione wasn't about to back down that easily. She followed them right through the portrait hole, looking like an angry mother goose as she whispered furiously.

"Do you only care about yourself, and not Gryffindor at all? I don't want Slytherin winning the House Cup again just because you threw away the points I earned from Professor McGonagall with that Switching Spell!"

"Buzz off," Ron muttered irritably.

"Fine—but don't say I didn't warn you. When you're on the train home tomorrow, remember I told you so. You are just so—!"

She turned back toward the portrait hole as she spoke, only to discover that the painting was now empty. The Fat Lady must've wandered off visiting, like the other paintings.

"Oh—what now?" she cried in frustration.

"That's your problem," Ron said briskly. "We've got to go—we're running late."

But before they could make it to the end of the corridor, Hermione came stomping after them.

"I'm coming with you!"

She looked absolutely unwilling as she said it.

"No, you're not," Ron shot back immediately.

"You think I want to?" Hermione retorted. "If I stay here and Filch catches me, what then? If he finds out—!"

"…Then just come," Harry muttered.

Hermione was still mid-rant when suddenly, a voice emerged from the shadows at the corner of the corridor, startling all three of them.

"Maca? And Neville?"

They squinted into the darkness until they could just make out the figures.

Maca didn't acknowledge them immediately. Instead, he clamped a hand over Neville's mouth to keep him from yelping.

"Why are you jumping at shadows?" he whispered. "I've been right beside you the whole time."

"I-I thought it was Filch…" Neville mumbled once he let go.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked, raising a brow.

"Neville forgot the common room password," Maca said with a shrug. "As for me? Just came out for a little walk, to stretch my legs."

"You know I've been buried in my coursework. Gotta loosen up now and then—too much sitting around and you rust up."

"Maca! Are you breaking the rules too?!" Hermione gasped, clearly scandalized.

Maca gave her a teasing smile. "Aren't you coming along as well?"

"That's only because—"

"Alright, alright, no need to explain." Maca gently patted Hermione's shoulder. Dressed in just his pajamas, he looked especially small and endearing in the dim light. "Be careful though—it's chilly tonight. Autumn's really here."

He shrugged off his house robe and draped it around Hermione's shoulders.

"Um… thanks," Hermione murmured, glancing at the robe. Whatever scolding she'd been about to unleash was swallowed with the gesture.

Still just a kid, aren't you? Maca mused inwardly. Not even a blush. He smirked as Hermione turned away, gearing up for another lecture.

Ron checked his watch, shot Hermione another annoyed glance, then turned to Maca with a grin. "If you're coming too, that's even better. You're always helping Fred and George sneak past Mum—I bet you can help us dodge Filch… and that awful cat of his!"

Maca chuckled and shrugged. "Tricking Filch is easy. But Mrs. Norris? Not so much. Animals have sharp senses—especially cats."

As he spoke, he pulled a small glass vial from his pocket and smiled.

"But of course, there's always a way."

"I knew it!" Ron beamed, shooting a smug look at Hermione. "You always have a trick up your sleeve!"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest—but catching Maca's gaze, she thought better of it and said nothing.

---

They walked briskly down the corridor, the moonlight streaming in from the tall windows and laying itself across the floor like a magical carpet.

Every time they turned a corner, Harry thought they were going to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris. But thankfully—whether it was luck or something Maca had done—they made it all the way down the stairs and onto the third floor without a hitch, tiptoeing quietly into the Trophy Room.

There was no sign of Malfoy or Crabbe.

The glass display cases gleamed under the moonlight pouring through the windows. In the dark, the trophies, shields, medals, and statues shimmered with silver and gold light. Silken ribbons floated as if stirred by an invisible breeze.

Maca wandered from case to case, curiously reading the plaques explaining each award—secretly wondering if maybe he should try winning one himself. It'd definitely help with his studies and research.

The others weren't nearly as relaxed. They hugged the wall as they moved, eyes fixed on the doors at both ends of the room. Harry had drawn his wand, just in case Malfoy suddenly burst in, ready to duel.

Time passed, minute by minute. Still, no one came.

"He's late. Maybe he chickened out," Ron whispered. But right then, a noise came from the next room, making them all jump.

Harry raised his wand instantly—only to hear a voice. But it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet. They might be hiding in some corner," Filch was saying to Mrs. Norris.

Harry was terrified. He waved his wand wildly, signaling the others to follow him, fast. But to everyone's horror, Maca grinned mischievously and walked even closer to the source of the sound—only a door separated him from Filch now.

Under the others' panicked stares, Maca pulled out his little bottle once more. After making a motion like he was holding his breath, he carefully unscrewed the cork, not making a single sound.

"Oh, darling! Where are you—" Filch's startled voice called out, followed by the sound of him rushing away, chasing after Mrs. Norris, who for some reason had bolted.

"That was brilliant! What is that stuff?" Ron asked in awe, stepping closer—only to sneeze immediately. "Ugh—what is that smell?"

Maca quickly stuffed the oak cork back into the bottle, stepped away, and finally let out a breath.

"It's not a potion. Just a volatile chemical mixture I whipped up. Strong odor. Very effective on animals with keen senses of smell."

"Is that… Gurlag rattlesnake secretions?" Hermione sniffed the lingering air and covered her nose with a grimace.

"Not just that. You have to adjust the breakdown-neutralization formula, or the smell will linger for days," Maca replied with a grin. "It's way too pungent, and it leaves evidence behind."

"So you planned to break the rules all along!" Hermione finally couldn't take it anymore. She whispered furiously, "You can't keep doing this! Hufflepuff already doesn't have that many points!"

"I don't care about the House Cup. Honor doesn't mean everything," Maca said cheerfully. "Besides, one house has to come last. I think that fits Hufflepuff's low-key philosophy perfectly."

"You can't think like that!" Hermione looked thoroughly annoyed with his attitude.

Suddenly, Maca raised a hand to stop her from continuing.

"Someone's coming. Filch is back," he said quietly, tilting his head to listen.

"Uh, maybe try that bottle again?" Ron suggested instinctively.

"I say we run," Maca shook his head and immediately took off down the dark corridor.

They ran past columns and hallway after hallway. The dim lighting was starting to throw off Maca's sense of direction—he had no idea where they were anymore.

"Oh—we're at the Charms classroom," Hermione said between breaths, spotting the door not far away.

"I think… we've lost him," Harry gasped, leaning against the cold stone wall and wiping sweat from his brow. Neville bent over, panting heavily.

"You guys really need to exercise more," Maca said. The sudden sprint had only left his breathing slightly heavier. A kid scraping by on the margins of society wasn't going to be undone by a bit of running.

"I—told—you—" Hermione wheezed, clutching her shirt front as she tried to catch her breath. "I—told—you all."

"We need to get back to the Gryffindor Tower," Ron said. "The sooner, the better."