“Shh!” Rose hissed, flapping a warning hand toward James, still peering around the statue.
James held his breath and listened. A distant noise grew gradually louder: a sort of lilting rasp, a gravelly voice humming a very old tune that James knew from his grandmother Weasley’s wireless programs, only this version sounded like it was being played on a broken kazoo in a hornet’s nest.
Glancing back, Rose mouthed, “Filch!” She lunged back into the shadows, elbowing James aside.
“Ow!” James gasped. “Get off my foot!”
“Hush!” Rose breathed urgently, elbowing him in the ribs.
Footsteps accompanied the humming song now, shuffling closer, rounding the bend ahead. Amazingly, Filch seemed to have chosen the dungeon corridors to prowl tonight, and was headed right toward them.
Then, worst of all, he began to sing.
“Oh, I’ve got a girl, a beeyotiful girl, the sweetest girl ever could be,” he wheezed under his breath, singing in a near monotone. “And for that sweet girl, with raven-dark curls, I’ll buy her a diamond and tea…”
The old caretaker’s voice came from just past the statue now.
His shadow lengthened along the stone floor, swaying, accompanied by the scratch-shuffle of his boots. Another shadow trotted alongside, and James’ blood went cold. It was the ancient Kneazle cat, Mrs. Norris, sniffing the floor, her claws ticking and clicking lightly as she approached.
Filch’s foot came into sight just beyond the statue’s stone plinth and Mrs. Norris stole ahead of it. She turned immediately, swinging the lamp of her green-gold gaze directly onto James and Rose where they hid. She opened her mouth to hiss at them.
And then, another voice joined in with Filch’s song, this one rough and booming, echoing from behind him.
“An’ we’ll dance, we two, in a big curlicue, by th’ light o’ th’ strawb’ry moon…”
Filch’s boot stuttered in surprise, and then scraped the floor as it withdrew, pivoting back around. Mrs. Norris, however, didn’t blink or turn toward the newcomer. She closed her mouth and a high, feline growl coiled in her throat.
“Rubeus!” Filch called gruffly, covering his surprise with anger.
“Gods, don’t torture me with your singin’. What are you doing about at this hour?”
James heard Hagrid’s clumping footsteps and dared to relax ever so slightly. Next to him, Rose shooed silently at Mrs. Norris with her hands. The cat opened her pink mouth in a low yowl, showing all of her extremely pointy yellow teeth.
“Can’t sleep a wink,” Hagrid answered mournfully. “It’s th’ full moon an’ the snowstorm. Too much white outside. Chases th’ sleep clean away. Thought I’d come down to th’ pool an’ work on Gertrude.”
“Ye gods,” Filch moaned again in disgust. “How many times ‘ave I told you, you can’t name a ship ‘Gertrude’. It’s an embarrassment, it is.”
Hagrid seemed unperturbed. “Tell you what, Argus, I’ll consult you afore namin’ the next one.”
“We’ll both be dead an’ buried before you can afford another boat. O’ that I’m certain,” Filch wheezed. “Go on with you, then. I’ve got rounds to do.”
With Filch’s back turned, Rose dared to aim a kick at Mrs.
Norris. The cat flattened her ears to her skull and swiped at Rose’s trainer, drawing a ragged slash with her claws.
“S’fortunate I came across yeh, actually, Argus,” Hagrid said suddenly, still unseen around the centaur statue. “Er, it seems I’ve come down to th’ dungeons without my ring-key to the Moonpool, fool that I am. Would yeh mind?”
Filch hemmed and hawed, grumbled and scratched at the rough flannel of his trousers. Then, James heard the sound of footsteps shuffling back down the corridor. “You’ll forget your own head one o’ these days, I wager,” Filch muttered.
“Prob’ly right,” Hagrid agreed cheerily. “I suppose I left the ring with my keys in the greenhouse after class.”
“Aye,” Filch muttered, taking the hint. “Professor Hagrid.”
There was a faint jangle, then the clink and scritch of the ring-key slotting into place. A clack of sliding bolts echoed down the corridor.
Rose kicked at Mrs. Norris again, this time connecting with the old kneazle’s hindquarters. She spun, hissed, and battened onto the cuff of Rose’s jeans with her fore-claws. Rose throttled her ankle desperately, trying to shake the cat off, but to no avail.
For lack of a better idea, James drew his wand from his pocket and aimed it at the hissing animal. “Acervespa!” he whispered.
The white lance of the stinging hex struck Mrs. Norris between her bulging eyes and she somersaulted backwards, paws and tail flailing.
She writhed in mid-air and struck the floor facing backwards, her legs splayed, the fur on her back raised into bristling hackles.
“Mrs. Norris!” Filch barked, raising his voice impatiently.
“Come along now. We’re not huntin’ mice this night.”
“True enough, Mrs. Norris,” Hagrid chuckled. “S’matter o’ fact, I’m fairly certain I saw some students making their way t’ the Astronomy tower with mischief in mind. I called after ‘em, but they don’t fear me like they do the two of yeh.”
“That’s because yer a great ol’ softie, Professor,” Filch growled.
“Come along, Missus. We’ve got bigger fish t’ fry this night.”
Mrs. Norris shook herself, snapped her pink jaw at the air as if a cloud of gnats was circling her head, and then darted in a frantic circle, hissing at her own tail. The stinging hex had apparently scrambled the old cat’s brain, at least for the moment. James couldn’t quite bring himself to feel sorry for it. Finally, a little drunkenly, she trotted away, bumping the centaur plinth as she went.
As James listened, still cramped into the statue’s shadow with Rose, he heard Filch’s shuffling departure as the old caretaker hurried back to the stairs, Mrs. Norris clicking along behind. Hagrid resumed his song, singing in a gruff baritone, “An’ happy we’ll be, my Princess an’ me, like the dish what run off with the spoon…”
James and Rose emerged from behind the statue and ran lightly to meet Hagrid, who looked back at them with no surprise, still singing the old song. When they joined him, he bowed his head and muttered, “Saw yer foot kickin’ at ol’ Mrs. Norris, Rosie.” There was a chastising note in his voice.
“She was about to get us caught,” Rose whispered defensively.
“All I did was try to shoo her away. James shot her with a stinging hex!”
She turned and raised her eyebrows at him. He glared back at her reproachfully.
To change the subject, he asked Hagrid, “Did you really forget your ring-key?”