Hoot!
An owl perched on the windowsill at the end of the eighth-floor corridor, tilting its head as it watched a large group of wizards wandering through the hallway like headless flies. They walked all the way to the window beneath which it sat, turned around, then doubled back at the waist-high vase at the other end. It gave them a friendly greeting, but the wizards all frowned deeply and paid no attention to its call.
This irritated the owl greatly.
When the wizards arrived beneath the window once more, it turned around, stuck up its rear, and dropped a steaming black-and-white lump.
"—Damn it!"
Ron narrowly dodged the bird droppings, muttering a curse before hurrying after Harry. "—Harry, do you know what they're looking for this place for?"
Before Harry could answer, Professor McGonagall's stern voice rang out beside them.
"Mr. Lockhart! Please concentrate!"
The corridor immediately fell silent again.
The foolish Barnabas and the trolls on the tapestry had completely called a truce and were watching this rare, strange scene with great interest.
"Abba abba!"
Foolish Barnabas rubbed the swollen bump on his head, which the trolls had beaten into him, and marveled that there were wizards in the world who looked even more foolish than he did.
"Grrr!"
The trolls snored, agreeing with the ballet teacher.
The group made three rounds through the corridor.
"—Wow!"
Hermione walked behind Zheng Qing and was the second to complete the three return trips, so she was also the second to see the exceptionally smooth door appear in the wall. A faint regret flashed through Harry's heart. One more of his little secrets was no longer a secret. As for Ron, the moment he saw the door, he immediately turned to look at Professor McGonagall. Only after confirming that she was