CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furor
over the points they’d lost. He half expected Hermione to complain
that this was a whole night of studying lost, but she didn’t say a
word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved what they’d got.
At eleven o’clock that night, they said good-bye to Ron in the
common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville.
Filch was already there — and so was Malfoy. Harry had also for-
gotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.
“Follow me,” said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them out-
side.
“I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again,
won’t you, eh?” he said, leering at them. “Oh yes . . . hard work
and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. . . . It’s just a pity they
let the old punishments die out . . . hang you by your wrists from
the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep
’em well oiled in case they’re ever needed. . . . Right, off we go, and
don’t think of running off, now, it’ll be worse for you if you do.”
They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing.
Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must
be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so de-
lighted.
The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throw-
ing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted win-
dows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout.
“Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.”
Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid
it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, be-
cause Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself
248