The name outlined in ink on the map was unmistakably clear: Barty Crouch.
Harry blinked hard, almost wondering whether the stress of the past few days was making him see things.
He remembered perfectly well that earlier that afternoon, in the crowded staff room, Mr Crouch had stiffly announced that he was returning immediately to the Ministry of Magic to deal with a mountain of official work.
Everyone present had heard him say it.
Yet now, the Marauder's Map clearly showed that the man who should have been in his Ministry office in London was inside Hogwarts Castle, specifically in Professor Snape's private Potions storeroom.
Why had he secretly returned to Hogwarts in the middle of the night and entered Snape's territory?
The three held their breath and stared intently at the tiny ink dot labelled "Barty Crouch" as it moved methodically around the small square representing the storeroom, sometimes stopping, sometimes turning, as though carefully searching for or examining something.
It was far too suspicious.
A cold sense of unease crept up their spines.
Then Hermione's earlier words rang through their minds like a delayed warning bell.
"...There was someone else whose behaviour I found rather strange..."
Harry had not thought much of it at the time, but combined with what they were now seeing on the map, Hermione's suspicion suddenly seemed far more substantial.
"Hermione," Harry said, his voice dry with tension, "you suspected him before..."
"Yes," Hermione replied gravely. "It seems I wasn't wrong. There is definitely something suspicious about him."
Intense curiosity, instinctive fear, and the desire to uncover the truth passed silently between them.
One shared glance was enough.
"Should we... tell Professor Dumbledore tomorrow morning?" Ron suggested hesitantly as he swallowed a piece of fried fish.
"No. We're going to see what he's doing right now," Harry said decisively, pulling the shimmering silver Invisibility Cloak from his robes.
"By tomorrow, he might already be gone, or he might have erased every trace. If we look now, perhaps we can find out what he's after."
"Harry, that's too dangerous!" Hermione objected immediately. "If we get caught..."
"We've got the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak," Harry argued, trying to sound confident. "We can avoid everyone as long as we're careful."
Hermione looked once more at the name still moving across the map, then at Harry's determined green eyes.
She knew how stubborn Harry could be, and she also understood that this opportunity might disappear at any moment.
Finally, she took a deep breath, as though making a major decision.
"All right. But we have to be extremely careful. The moment anything feels wrong, we leave immediately. No hesitation."
"Agreed."
Harry quickly tucked the Marauder's Map back inside his robes.
"And we don't need to worry too much. This is Hogwarts. Even if there really is something wrong with him, he wouldn't dare do anything too outrageous here."
With that, he dramatically unfurled the Invisibility Cloak. It flowed over the three of them like a piece of liquid night.
Their figures vanished instantly from head to toe, far more completely than under any Disillusionment Charm.
They silently slipped out of the Gryffindor common room and into the quiet, shadowy corridors of the sleeping Castle.
Moonlight streamed through the high windows, casting cold patches of light across the floor.
They moved on tiptoe, trying not to make a sound, but the old floorboards still creaked faintly beneath them, while the hems of their robes rustled softly beneath the Invisibility Cloak.
Several portraits stirred from sleep and turned their heads towards the apparently empty corridor, looking around in confusion.
At that moment, Hermione remembered something Sagres had emphasised in class earlier that day.
"Sound, scent, even the disturbance you create in the air as you move can all reveal your position."
She immediately drew her wand and, beneath the Invisibility Cloak, carefully aimed it towards herself and the other two.
"Muffliato," she whispered.
A subtle force enveloped them, and the creaking floorboards and rustling fabric immediately became inaudible.
Harry and Ron both looked impressed and silently gave Hermione a thumbs-up.
They successfully made it downstairs, crossed half the corridor, and turned onto a spiral stone staircase leading deeper underground.
However, as they carefully descended, a questioning meow suddenly came from below.
A moment later, the grey-furred Mrs Norris appeared, padding lightly up the stairs.
Her nose twitched, and her amber eyes swept sharply over the seemingly empty staircase before settling precisely on the spot where the Invisibility Cloak concealed them.
In the stillness, one overlooked detail suddenly became obvious: the greasy smell of the fried cod Ron had just eaten.
Mrs Norris began circling the suspicious patch of empty air, purring low in her throat, her tail held high. Every so often, she extended a paw and tried to touch the invisible obstruction.
Under the Invisibility Cloak, the three of them felt as though their hearts might leap out of their chests.
Anxious and frightened, Ron instinctively tried to shoo the troublesome cat away with his foot.
Instead of driving her off, however, his clumsy movement only made Mrs Norris more curious and alert. She let out a louder, sharper warning meow that sounded particularly piercing in the silent dungeon.
"What's the matter, my sweet?"
A hoarse voice approached, accompanied by shuffling footsteps.
A moment later, Filch appeared at the stairwell holding a dim oil lamp, its light illuminating his gloomy face.
Mrs Norris immediately hurried to her master's feet and rubbed her head against his trousers before turning back towards Harry and the others and meowing even more insistently, as though identifying the culprits.
Filch narrowed his cloudy eyes and suspiciously surveyed the empty staircase.
"Who's there?"
His rough voice echoed between the stone walls.
"Is that you, Peeves? Up to your tricks again? Come out! I'll deal with you properly!"
In a flash of inspiration, Ron hurriedly pulled the remaining fried fish from his pocket, not caring about the grease, and threw it through the edge of the Invisibility Cloak towards a distant corner.
The paper-wrapped fish traced a brief arc through the air before landing on the stone floor with a soft thud.
Mrs Norris stopped meowing at once.
Her nose twitched, and the smell of fried fish immediately drew her away. She darted towards the corner and began sniffing it intently.
Filch's attention was drawn there as well. He raised his oil lamp and squinted into the corner.
"Peeves, is this your rubbish again? Don't think you can fool me with that..."
Just then, faint footsteps sounded from another corridor.
Professor Snape glided silently into the light like a black ghost, his dark robes billowing behind him.
"Filch," Snape said in a low, flat voice, "what is all this shouting about? It is long past curfew."
"Professor Snape!"
Filch immediately turned towards him, sounding as though reinforcements had finally arrived.
"It's Peeves! He's causing trouble again, and littering!"
He pointed towards Mrs Norris, who was crouched beside the fried fish in the corner.
Snape's black eyes swept coldly over Filch before moving slowly towards the corner and settling on the golden-brown piece of fried fish.
His lips curled into something close to a sneer.
"It cannot be Peeves," he said dryly, sarcasm colouring his voice. "He is currently being 'disciplined' by our highly 'competent' Professor Greengrass in the floating arena. Peeves cannot leave without his permission."
"But... but Peeves can pass through walls!" Filch protested, clearly unwilling to abandon his favourite suspect. "Who's to say he hasn't escaped?"
"Professor Greengrass's method of confinement is somewhat unusual," Snape replied slowly.
His gaze, however, began sweeping carefully over the staircase and surrounding shadows like a cold blade.
"I am more inclined to believe that certain students are breaking school rules and indulging in late-night excursions. Perhaps they are using magic they ought not to be using while pursuing some inappropriate adventure through the Castle."
The moment he finished speaking, the air in the dungeon seemed to freeze.
Filch appeared to understand as well. Holding his oil lamp aloft, he followed Snape's gaze with malicious anticipation.
Under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood completely still.
They barely dared to breathe, and cold sweat instantly soaked their backs.
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