James frowned, but the Gryffindor side of him (which was pretty much his only side) would never allow him to do anything else. He nodded tersely, his wand still held steady in his hand. There was something wrong here, he felt it in the sudden churning in his gut, or the hairs that were suddenly standing up on the back of his neck.
Carefully, he walked with Peter along the hallway. The rumbling footsteps were almost on top of them when they reached the bend. Peering round the corner, James froze. It was twelve feet tall, with shoulders as wide as the corridor itself and a slightly baffled look, as if it had no idea what it was doing on the seventh floor. James could relate.
He pulled his head back sharply to stare at Peter, all awkwardness suddenly forgotten in the face of (it had a to be said) this rather strong-smelling encounter.