"Yes, sir," he said with a would-be-sarcastic-under-normal-circumstances salute, and he once again began sprinting to make his way back to the ninth level. Between Quidditch and all the subsequent running around, his heart was racing in his chest. He felt sweat clinging to his skin as he impatiently made his descent. "We may not have long,’ Granger had said, whatever that meant. His head was starting to ache again. There wasn’t much time, and he forced his tired legs to sprint down the long, dark hallway, all the while coming up with a proper speech to berate Granger with upon his arrival.