The School for Scruff: 20.

[Still in Scotland. I think someone got murdered last night, and not by one of us]

I lay there, looking up at Emily's black smoky face, trying to discern any expression on it. No, it looked just like some black smoke, the way it usually does.
"But these are the only dry clothes I have and my arms feel awful!" I protested.
"Scruff!"
"All right," I sat up. It was still only four in the afternoon. "But I don't really feel like wandering around the College dressed like this! They're my pyjamas!"
"I don't mind going around in mine."
"No-one can tell what you're wearing, Emily," I pointed out. Emily laughed.
"Of course not."
Then she vanished. The door opened and Matron looked at me sternly.
"Scruff, I heard voices."
"I was talking to myself."
Matron looked less than convinced. Well, I thought, let her. The Outsider's invisible. No-one can see Emily when she doesn't want to be seen.
"Scruff, you're a troublemaker. Get up!"
I got up. Matron looked down at me, her eyes blazing.
"I'm watching you, young lady. And if you ONCE step out of line, you're mine!"
"She was just being friendly."
Matron turned. Emily had made herself visible again, and her red eyes seemed to be glowing more intensely than ever. Formidable though she was, Matron was obviously afraid.

"It's a trick!"
"No trick," the Outsider moved across the floor. "I'm the Outsider. I walk in the shadows, I observe this wicked world, and I watch your every move! I know your evil plans."
She drew herself up to her full height (shorter than me), and her glowing red eyes looked up into Matron's.
It was then that Matron fainted.
"Go!" Emily said.
I went. I ran from the dorm, just as I was, headed for the Grange. If Sis wanted me there, I was going. She needed me. I'd got into the school, and I was giving her information. I didn't care how many teenage boys there might be between me and the Grange.

I burst into the building and ran into the study.
"So! Our spy!"
Baron Von Zstrongarm faced me. And he was armed, not with a gun, but with a riding-crop. Haupt was there too, and several prefects. It looked very much as though I was trapped.
"Now you will learn why it is a bad idea to make yourself my enemy, Miss Hill," the Baron said. "Come into my parlour."
I had less desire to do that than any fly ever had, but I didn't have much of a choice, and when Von Zstrongarm opened the door I stepped through.