Ginny tiptoed around the corner, nearly crashing into a suit of armour. She held her breath as it swayed precariously and heaved a sigh of relief when it remained standing on its plinth. She shuffled forward, her feet making little sound on the stone floors, her eyes alert for any sign of Mrs Norris. If she could just get to her destination without alerting that cat perhaps she could do this.

Carefully, winding her way past locked doors, broom cupboards and secret passageways hidden by tapestries, Ginny made it to the seventh floor corridor. She peeked around the last corner, her goal nearly in sight. She was already late from trying to dodge the Pink Terror and if she didn’t get there soon she’d miss half the meeting. She was going to kill Corner for not waiting for her. At least if they’d been caught together they could have pretended to be looking for a broom cupboard. On her own she had no recourse.

The expanse of empty corridor that lay between her and the door had no shadows, nowhere to hide. If she went out now would she be safe. She checked her watch, already five minutes late. She cursed running into Filch on the second floor, she’d had to go the long way around and now she didn’t know if she’d gone past all of the I squad goons or if they were going to see her because she’d coe a different way.

Ginny debated. She could pretend she was going to the common room. Hopefully she’d get a dumb one; too dumb to realise she’d just gone past it. If she got Filch, however … he’d know she was up to no good. She needed a better plan. Retreating silently into a shadowed alcove nearby, she leant against the wall and examined her arsenal. Quickly turning out her pockets she found one nougat nosebleed, a fainting fancy and a canary cream. She sighed and rifled through her bag. One fanged Frisbee and a wet start firework. She grimaced. Not exactly the stuff a takeover was made of.

She chewed her Drooble’s idly as she studied the items. Noises nearby made her cautiously poke her head out again to find Crabbe and Goyle swaggering along the corridor self importantly.

“If we catch that Weasley bint for him, Filch is going to overlook next time we fancy a little … alone time,” said Crabbe silkily. Ginny stared at him horrified. If she wasn’t mistaken Crabbe was looking forward to some alone time with … Goyle. She shuddered.

“He’s not here now …” Goyle said hesitantly. Crabbe eyed him carefully and before Ginny could blink a door had appeared in the wall. Ginny groaned. No, no, no, who knew what would happen if the Room tried to do two wishes at once … thinking quickly she threw the contents of her pocket out into the corridor. The greedy pigs saw them flying across the floor and pounced on them. Before long a bleeding Goyle was dragging a fainted, feathered Crabbe in the direction of the hospital wing, howling for Malfoy. The commotion brought Filch. But not before Ginny had prepared herself and armed the corridor.

He skulked up the corridor his eyes twitching left and right. The door had vanished and Filch was hissing her name.

“Miss Weasley, come out, come out, wherever you are.” He looked uncannily like the silly witch on the Muggle movie dad had showed her once and for a moment Ginny thought he was going to say “I’ll get you my pretty.”

He drew level with the primed firework, stuck to the wall at head height by the piece of Drooble’s and Ginny released the fanged Frisbee, it’s points glowing with fiery darts cast there by the best incendiary spell she could muster at a whisper. Flinging itself into the firework the whole corridor was soon ablaze with the lights and sounds of a New Year’s Eve party and Filch was running scared, the blazing fanged Frisbee caught in his coat and the firework bouncing along the hallway after him.

Ginny made a dash to the Room and before she could pace the door was flung open. Fred, geroge and Harry darted outside, wands drawn.

“Ginny!” exclaimed Fred. “What the heck was all that fuss?”

“And where have you been?” asked George.

“I was just decoying Filch,” Ginny replied modestly, “with a Frisbee and fireworks.”

“That’s very inventive,” praised Fred.

“Yeah, best slip I’ve ever given Filch,” Ginny giggled.

“You’ve run Filch off before?” asked Harry.

“Oh yeah, loads of times,” said Ginny breezily as she slipped in the door, smiling to herself at the admiring look Harry was giving her. “It’s a challenge for him. It’s a game for me.”