Harry Potter was up in the morning, again, running laps around the castle. He'd have invited Neville, if he figured the notoriously late sleeper could actually manage to get up this early. As it was, Harry ran with senses pricked - at the sound of a cracked twig from behind him, he tucked himself into a roll, mourning the mud he was splattering all over his robes. He felt rather than saw the stunner going over him, and his hand reached out, casting a spell without his wand drawn. Harry heard Snape curse, as he flung himself over the wicked blade that Harry'd sent out. Snape was still disillusioned, of course, so it would look like Harry was fighting imaginary enemies. Harry sprang to his feet and launched himself into a full-out sprint, knowing there was a decent secret entrance just around the way. He could almost hear Snape following - with that long legged, leaping lope of his. Just the slightest of crunches - far too quiet for Harry to actually hear over his own breathing.
There! Harry flung himself into the entrance, hitting the secret stones with his full bodyweight, and plummeting inside. He watched as Snape's footprints danced past him. Harry grinned, satisfied.
[a/n: Someone reviewed this story, so I had to write something. Next up: hermione on the warpath
Leave a review, and I'll write more!]