After personally seeing Flitwick back near his own office, Allen still did not turn around and return to the Headmaster's Office. He paused for a few seconds to confirm Hermione's location, then headed downstairs.
Blazing torches lined the stone walls of the corridor. The ceiling was so high its top was almost impossible to see. The people in the portraits along the corridor silently bowed as Allen passed, then began whispering and laughing again after he had gone by—apart from his office, Allen had opened up most of the portraits' speaking permissions everywhere else, except for matters that needed to remain confidential.
Young wizards could be seen hurrying everywhere. The skeletal servants they had summoned followed behind them carrying their schoolbags, the clatter of bones making a distinctive sound. Lions roared, snakes slithered with a rasping friction, little badgers darted out from corners from time to time, and the eagles flying beneath the ceiling added a great deal of life to the campus.
Amid the pinging and banging of exploding and colliding Charms, young wizards dueling for fun could be found at intervals along the corridor. What comforted Allen was that even among the third-years, quite a few could already use a nonverbal Shield Charm skillfully. Spellcasting duels in the corridors inevitably damaged the building, but whether it was broken suits of armor, damaged stone walls, or paintings, the duelists repaired them bit by bit with magic themselves. Judging by their practiced movements, they had clearly done such things more than once. In a sense, this too had become a form of practice.
After leaving Hogwarts Castle, the sky was clear and pale gray because their current altitude was already above the clouds. The grass underfoot was kept soft and damp by magic. Allen walked down the slope to the