Night.
The moment Lee Jordan yawned and started climbing the dormitory stairs, the three figures pretending to lounge in a corner of the common room snapped alert.
"He's gone," Ron whispered, barely moving his lips.
The other two said nothing. They simply watched Lee's back disappear, then listened hard until even the last soft footfalls had faded.
Harry let out a quiet breath. "Okay. Let's go."
"We're just… walking out like this?" Hermione asked.
It wasn't a good plan and they all knew it.
"What else are we supposed to do?" Ron gave her a look that said the question itself was ridiculous. "We lost the Invisibility Cloak because of Norbert last time."
"If only Charlie were here," Harry muttered.
"Yeah. He's a night-wandering pro. We already knew that." Ron nodded. "But he's not here. We're on our own."
Harry nodded too—then, without quite knowing why, the conversation from a few days ago surfaced in his mind.
When you next need to find me… eat it.
That was what Charlie had said.
Harry turned and sprinted back up to the dormitory. From the bedside cabinet he pulled out the lollipop. While he was there he also spotted the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas.
It'll make you feel hotter.
He still had no idea what that meant, but he unwrapped it anyway and put it in his mouth as he came back down.
"You're stopping to eat candy?" Ron stared at him in disbelief when he reappeared in the common room. He had assumed Harry was fetching something important.
"Maybe it'll help," Harry said uncertainly.
He kept walking toward the portrait hole, peeling the rest of the wrapper and settling the lollipop against his tongue. The rich strawberry flavor exploded across his mouth, sweet and intense, washing away a surprising amount of the earlier fatigue.
This is weird, he thought. I'm about to do something that might get us all killed, and I'm eating candy.
They had just stepped into the passage when a figure suddenly stepped out from behind a high-backed chair.
"Where do you think you're going?" Neville demanded, staring hard at the three of them.
"Nowhere, Neville. Nowhere," Harry said, automatically taking a step back into the common room.
"You're sneaking out again, aren't you?"
Hermione rushed to deny it. "What? No, of course not. Why would you—"
Neville cut across her. "What are you going out for?"
The three of them froze.
"You can tell me," Neville said, voice steady. "So we don't end up with another accident like last time. If you don't tell me, I'm not letting you leave."
Looking at Neville's stubborn face, Harry felt a sudden spike of impatience. They were already burning time waiting for curfew. Every second counted now. They couldn't waste more of it—
Then he remembered that Neville had been the one who told him about the unicorn in the forest.
Harry exhaled. "Fine. I'll tell you."
He laid out every one of his conclusions. Neville listened carefully until he understood exactly what they intended to do.
"So you're going after the Philosopher's Stone right now—to get it before Snape does?" he confirmed.
"Yes. You've asked your questions. Can you move?" Ron muttered.
None of them wanted anyone else involved. Outsiders would either laugh it off as first-year nonsense or decide the three of them had completely lost their minds and were planning to take on Snape alone.
"How are you getting there?" Neville asked. "I can help."
The common room went dead quiet. All three stared at him. Hermione's eyes were wide.
"Wait… you mean you want to come with us?"
"I don't know if I'll be any use," Neville said, uncertainty clear in his voice. "Do you have a plan?"
Honestly, what could he do? He didn't know. But the memory of the Forbidden Forest was still sharp. If there really was such a thing as fate, then this—right now—was the moment to act.
Harry shook his head. "We don't have a plan. We just need to move fast."
He turned and started for the portrait hole again. Since Neville clearly wasn't going to raise the alarm, there was no point arguing.
"Wait—I'm coming too." Neville hurried after them. The four of them slipped out of the common room together, moving as quietly as they could.
The last time the four of them had gone anywhere as a group had been the midnight duel with Malfoy the previous year—the night they first discovered Fluffy on the third floor.
The castle was unnaturally quiet. Whether it was only their nerves or something more, the place felt colder and more watchful than usual. The usual comfortable night breeze had turned sharp. The stone statues seemed to track them with living eyes.
This might be a path that got them all killed. The thought settled over the three of them at the same moment.
The fourth member of the group was already several steps ahead, footsteps echoing a little too loudly.
Harry.
"Harry!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Keep it down—you'll bring Filch!"
Harry glanced back. For a split second his green eyes flashed an unnatural red. His expression was flat, almost cold, as if something angry was building behind it.
The look startled the other three.
But his footsteps did grow quieter, and he seemed to regain a measure of control.
They finally left the tower. Just as they were about to take the first step onto the staircase, a piercing yowl split the air.
Mrs. Norris stood at the far end of the corridor, staring straight at them. In the darkness her eyes glowed like two red coins.
"Go! Move!" Ron hissed, shoving them toward the stairs.
It was already too late. Filch's heavy footsteps were approaching fast. With Mrs. Norris watching, there was no way they could simply outrun him.
Then Neville suddenly spun and charged down the stairs, feet pounding loudly.
"Neville!" Ron spun around, furious. "Have you lost your mind?!"
"You lot go up," was all Neville said. He planted himself at the bottom of the staircase and jumped twice more, making as much noise as possible.
"Go!" Harry decided instantly. He understood. Without another word he led the charge upward.
The four of them split.
A moment later the corridor was empty.
Filch came thundering around the corner, glared down the stairs at the receding noise, and immediately gave chase.
Only when Filch's shouts had faded into the distance did a second, almost silent set of footsteps appear in the empty passage.
"Phew…"
"Charlie! Charlie!" Fiona zipped through the air. "Where are you? Filch is gone—you can come out now!"
The empty corridor answered with the soft rustle of fabric. Charlie pulled the Invisibility Cloak back just far enough to free his head.
"I'm here."
Fiona landed on his shoulder at once and launched into an excited, whispered account of Neville's deliberate sacrifice.
"Neville, huh?" Charlie murmured. "Didn't see that coming. So they've already gone up."
He started climbing the stairs, fishing another lollipop from his pocket as he walked.
"What's that one, Charlie?" Fiona asked, curious. She had known he was brewing something new, but never what.
"The one that makes you calm," Charlie said after a moment's thought. "Like snow. Like ice. Clears out all the noise and the heat… but it doesn't leave any warm feelings either."
He unwrapped it. The sharp, clean taste of winter snow mixed with strawberry essence bloomed across his tongue.
"Why make them lollipops?" Fiona asked.
"Because they keep giving you sweetness, little by little." Charlie smiled faintly and stepped onto the fourth floor.