ever have expected it. There they go! After them, now! But Mrs.

Norris half turned back toward James, her baleful orange eyes narrowed, her slit pupils flared wide. She raised her paw again. Go, Mrs. Norris, go! Filch said, his mood swinging to annoyance. He shoved her with his foot, scooching her away from James and toward the mice, which had disappeared further along the corridor. Filchs foot caught the edge of the cloak, pulling it away from James feet. He felt cool air on his toes.

Mrs. Norris looked back toward James and hissed again. Filch, however, was too sodden to take heed. They went that way, you blind old thing. Id have never guessed a pair of dumb animals would get the jump on you. Lets go, lets go. Therere always more near the kitchens. He ambled on into the shadows of the corridor and eventually Mrs. Norris followed, throwing occasional rankled glances back towards James. When they turned the corner, he exhaled shakily, composed himself, then continued down the corridor, running lightly and feeling extremely lucky. When he reached the door to the Americans quarters it was closed and bolted. In the darkness, James could hear the voices of his dad and Franklyn inside, but they were muffled and unintelligible. He was about to give up and head downstairs, thinking he might perhaps find Cedrics ghost again, or even the Muggle intruder, when the voices inside the door grew louder. The bolt socked back and James scrambled out of the way, forgetting for a moment that he was hidden under the cloak. He pressed himself against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor just as the door creaked open. Franklyn emerged first, talking quietly. Harry followed, closing the door with the practiced stealth of any good Auror. Practice being quiet when you dont need to, Harry had told his son on many occasions, and you wont need to think about it when you do.