Chapter Seven – The Land of Monochrome

The final Saturday morning of the Christmas holiday had arrived. Most of the students at Hogwarts would be returning by the end of the weekend at the latest, leaving Harry and Ron to eagerly await the advent of their friends. Waiting in the main hall the two boys sat with their goblets of pumpkin juice, keeping track of which students arrived at what times. It wasn't until almost three in the afternoon that Neville arrived, struggling with his suitcases and entering the hall through the smaller door set in one side of the main gate. Ron got up, mostly at Harry's direction, and helped Neville lug his things to Gryffindor Tower, while Harry waited for Hermione and Tracey.

Not five minutes after Neville and Ron were gone, Harry saw two familiar shapes stroll into the hall. Travis and Tracey Davis, both pushing small carts loaded with their things, made their way to the young sorcerer's table and stopped to greet him. Despite Travis's upbeat demeanor, Tracey's melancholy appearance drew Harry's immediate attention. Her eyes were red and her face seemed drawn. When Travis began pushing his cart towards one of the halls branching away from the main chamber, Tracey stayed behind.

"So," Harry began as Tracey sat down beside him, "how was your break?"

The girl looked over at Harry, face tight. "It was really, really long," she said. Tracey reached up and rubbed her eyes, sniffing to fight off a runny nose. "I'm glad to be back."

"Do you want to talk?" asked the sorcerer.

Tracey slowly shifted between nodding and shaking her head, looking very intently at the floor between her feet. "Family issues," she said, again reaching to wipe her eyes. "My dad's being... well a little stubborn."

"About what?" asked Harry. "Is there something I can do to help?"

Both students looked up as heavy footfalls approached their tables. Spotting Lucius and Draco Malfoy, Harry's stomach immediately tied itself in a knot. Seeing either one, much less both, of the elitists around Tracey right now gave the young Potter chills. Draco and Lucius both stopped and bowed politely to Harry and Tracey, Lucius a little lower than his son, while a brute in a green cloak pushed a heavy cart laden with what Harry assumed to be Draco's things.

"Mr Potter, Miss Davis," said Lucius, though he focused on the girl. "Always a pleasure to see both of you."

"Good morning Mr Malfoy," said Tracey.

"Well why so glum?" asked the older man, a serpentine grin lingering on his lip. "Surely this can't be over the relocation."

Tracey nodded. "Yes sir."

"Ah well, don't fret," Lucius smiled. "Marseilles really is a beautiful place. No student in the palace ever wants for any luxury. I'm sure you'll be very happy there."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, turning to Tracey. "Are you leaving Hogwarts?"

Tracey nodded, but it was Lucius who spoke first. "You mean you hadn't heard?" he asked, drawing a scowl masked in curiosity from Harry. "Terry Davis, Tracey's father and a prominent member of the wizarding community, somehow found out that a creature as dangerous as a Cerberus had been lurking in Hogwarts and he immediately went to the Ministry of Magic about it. The whole affair has turned into quite a spectacle down in London, what with the Ministry rightly in an outrage. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if both Dumbledore and Hagrid are called away for a hearing regarding their termination..."

Harry sat dumbfounded by the news, not wanting to stare at the girl beside him, but not particularly able to fight the urge. "I wonder how that got out," the sorcerer muttered, making Tracey twitch and bite her lip.

"However it did," said Draco, his tone notably less polite than his father's. "I'm glad that someone will finally be doing something about it. I'm positive that once the Ministry has possession of the beast they'll euthanize it, just like the rest of its mangy kind."

"Draco," Lucius put a hand on his son's shoulder. "No need to be so blunt." He turned back to Harry and Tracey. "Mr Potter, Miss Davis," he nodded and began walking away, followed by Draco and the cart pushing brute.

Sitting quietly until Draco and Lucius had gone, the two Slytherin students made great efforts not to look at one another. Her breath catching, still pressing her lips closed and squinting through tears, Tracy got up from the table and began walking away, abandoning her cart completely. Harry jumped up after her, looking between her luggage and the girl for a second, before picking up his pace and chasing Tracey down one of the exits.

"Hold up," he said, catching her and grabbing her arm. Both students skidded to a halt in the narrow corridor and Harry turned Tracey around to look at him. "What's the matter?" he asked, "Why are you crying?"

Tracey shook her head and looked down. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to tell him, it just slipped out. And now my dad is trying to get Dumbledore fired and he's taking me out of Hogwarts, and it's all fallen apart!" She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to fight back a few sobs. "It's my fault, but I'm sorry," she said.

"Not at all," said Harry, stepping forward and hugging her. He took a deep breath to suppress the frustration building in his chest as his mind began to race. Wondering how in the world the Stone would remain safe if Dumbledore left the castle made Harry's brain ache. "Stuff happens. Don't beat yourself up over it." Harry made sure she couldn't see his face and the mask of twitching anger thereupon.

Tracey cried into Harry's shoulder for several minutes before her sobbing began to let up and she leaned back a little. "Sorry," the girl repeated. She looked at Harry's clothes and the big wet patch she'd left on the shoulder of his robe. "I can get you a towel if you'd like," she laughed though the last few tears.

Harry grinned and shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said, turning and tugging on her robe a little. "Let's get back to the main hall before Draco gets back and robs your cart."

Making no effort to hurry, the pair trekked back to the main hall, where they found a fairly confused Hermione Granger standing by Tracey's cart. When the Slytherins arrived, Hermione greeted them both with hugs and questions about their holidays, leading Harry to quickly make himself the center of Hermione's attention while Tracey, much to her own relief, could stand back quietly while Harry talked. When the young sorcerer had filibustered all he could, Harry suggested that the three students meet up for one last dinner before classes resumed, an idea readily agreed to by both girls.

While Hermione ran off with her light load of luggage to inform Ron and Neville, Harry and Tracey both made their way down to the sewers. Pushing the girl's cart for her through the dank tunnels, Harry made an effort to keep Tracey talking about whatever crossed her mind, simply because it seemed the more she spoke, the stronger her voice became. To Harry the connection between talking and feeling better seemed obvious.

"But I'll at least be finishing up the year," said Tracey with an uneasy grin. "So you all will have to put up with me for a few more months. But after that, whoosh," she slapped her hands together, trying to make light of the subject, "off to Beauxbatons for me." Her lip fluttered.

"You'll make sure to write though?" Harry asked.

"Of course," she answered, "every day if I can. And I'll make sure to tell everyone there that first years at Hogwarts aren't even considered real students until they kill a troll."

Laughing, Harry stopped in front of the portrait hanging within the small recessed frame of the sewer wall. "Pure-blood," he said, stepping through as the wall opened up into the Slytherin common room. He turned Tracey's cart back to her. She hugged him one more time, thanking Harry for understanding, before wheeling her luggage back to her room. He waited in the common room, laying out on one of the couches and staring up at the ceiling for almost half an hour, absorbed in thought. The new problem presented by Dumbledore's possible absence ate at him, and the young sorcerer found his mind working just as hard on what could be done to protect it from whoever was trying to get it.

"Quirrell," he muttered. "Not Snape, Quirrell," Harry made himself think aloud. It's not professor Snape that's after the Stone... probably. Still, all I know is that professor Dumbledore is trustworthy... unfortunately I can't afford to let that extend to professor Snape without concrete evidence, so I'll just have to assume neither of them can be trusted...

Harry's brow furrowed as he studied a particularly perfect example of a right angle in the brickwork of the ceiling. Completely imperceptible to all means of visual detection, both magical and mundane. The human eye will overlook you, divination will not be able to predict your actions, scrying will not find you, and wards will not detect you, Snape's words concerning Harry's cloak echoed in his head. Completely undetectable, he thought. I wonder...

SC

"So what are we looking for," Ron whispered.

"Anything incriminating... anything at all," Harry whispered back.

"You mean besides half the junk in this office?" Ron replied, looking about the room through the hazy, refracting filter of the invisibility cloak. "I don't see why I had to come along for this."

"Because the cloak is more than big enough to hide both of us," Harry answered, "and an extra set of eyes never hurts."

Hidden beneath the perfect concealment of the invisibility cloak, Harry and Ron tiptoed around the numerous benches and workspaces scattered throughout professor Quirrell's office, picking their way by boxes of exotic trappings that had yet to be put up. The nighttime illumination, more moonlight than starlight by this point, filtered in through the windows set in the western ceiling and brought out the stark contrasts in the professor's personal room. Minotaur heads glared at the boys from their plaques on the walls, a great skeletal cat, flanked by unopened cardboard boxes sat eerily motionless as the cloak passed imperceptibly by.

When the boys reached the teacher's desk, Harry stepped forward while Ron held the corners of the cloak and put up his hands, forming a wall of invisibility between Harry the boys and the door. Harry had learned, through some experimentation, that someone need not be completely wrapped in the cloak to be hidden by it. Two people standing on either side of the stretched out garment, he'd learned with Dumbledore, could see right through the cloak to the opposite side of the room without seeing each other. Somehow the cloak seemed to differentiate between objects, making invisible only the things in the cloak's immediate vicinity, while leaving the inanimate scenery exposed.

"You sure he's really running late?" Ron asked. "'Cause if he's not-"

"Then we're in more trouble than we can imagine," Harry finished Ron's sentence, beginning to riffle through papers. "Trust me, professor McGonagall said that Quirrell was running late from Albania and wouldn't be back until Wednesday."

"That's in an hour," said Ron.

"I know," said Harry. "Maybe he'll be tardy or we'll find something in time to- Snape?" he muttered.

"Snape?" Ron asked.

"Snape," Harry repeated. "Or a letter from him to Lucius Malfoy." Harry examined the manilla envelope, noting the wax seal had already been torn away, and carefully withdrew the single page. Scanning the paper, Harry read as quickly as he could, while Ron focused on holding the cloak high.

"What does it say?" whispered the redhead.

"My dear Lucius," Harry read, "I've found a way to retrieve the object. The spell is keyed to Harry Potter's Dweomer as anticipated. Given enough time I can fool it. I don't trust Quirrell. He claims to be on our side. I find his story unconvincing. Be well until HE rises again. Your friend, Severus."

Ron and Harry both went silent as Harry quickly replaced the letter in the envelope and put it back exactly where he found it. By unspoken consent, Ron and Harry both moved in unison to hide beneath the cloak and make for the door. Exiting the room, harry pointed his wand through the cloak and whispered the word Hermione had taught him. The lock clicked and both boys walked as quickly as they could down the hall.

"Well if that isn't incriminating evidence," Ron muttered as the pair reached the entrance to the sewers.

"Nothing is," Harry finished the thought. "It seems too convenient," he said, looking up at Ron. "Like it's supposed to be incriminating. Do you think Quirrell forged it?"

"I think you're reading too much into it," Ron answered. "It seems pretty clear that Snape is the bad guy here."

"But it doesn't add up," said Harry. "There's too much circumstantial evidence pointing the other way... I'm still not convinced."

"Then you won't be until Snape makes you a sacrifice to You-Know-Who," Ron whispered, looking around as a gust of wind blew through the hall. "We really need to get going," he said.

Harry stepped out from under the cloak. "Use it to get back to Gryffindor's common room," Harry whispered, looking around to get a clearer picture of his surroundings.

"You sure?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "You can give it back to me tomorrow at dinner." No answer came, but the sound of nearly silent footsteps quickly vanished down the hall. Harry waited until he was sure Ron had gone, then ducked into the sewers. Drawing on a good deal of magic, the boy vanished from sight into the darkness, not even disturbing the surface of the water as he made for the common room. Sneaking in the door, through the empty room, Harry hovered invisibly down the hall and slunk through his door. Shutting it behind himself and turning around, the sorcerer gasped to see a the great shadow on his wall and whirled towards the candle on his desk.

With a flick of his tongue, Bacid turned to Harry from his spot on the desk. "Where have you been, I wonder," hissed the snake.

Harry exhaled and withered against the door as Bacid coiled up. "What are you doing here?" asked the sorcerer, taking a steadying breath.

"Got bored and wondered if you wanted to go hunting," said the snake. "Your owl makes for pleasant conversation when she's not threatening to eat me."

Harry glanced at Hedwig who appeared unbothered by the ophidian animal's presence. "Actually, I just got in from the sewers," said Harry, "but I think I've got an idea."

"Oh?" muttered the snake, raising its head in curiosity. "What would that be?"

"Well, if you can promise not to bite me..."

SC

"What do you mean?" asked Harry after raising his hand and waiting for professor McGonagall to call on him.

"Cotton in your ears?" asked the older woman. "I said the professor Snape won't be here today, so you'll be having study hall with the Ravenclaws instead, now everybody up," she raised her hands and motioned for the students to move. "And follow me."

Harry went silent, anxiety tearing away at his calm as he followed McGonagall and the other students down towards the main hall. So distracted that he didn't notice when Draco stepped up beside him, Harry literately jumped when Draco poked his shoulder. The young sorcerer whirled on Draco and glared at him.

"Don't do that," he growled. Harry's eyes flitted to his flowing sleeve, where the coils of the snake flexed almost imperceptibly, and shook his head to silently answer Bacid's question.

"What's the matter, Potter?" asked Draco with a smug grin. "Scared of me are you?"

"I saw you and thought another troll had gotten loose," Harry retorted.

Draco shrugged off the insult. "Funny thing that both Snape and the bumbling idiot Quirrell go missing on the same day," said Malfoy. But it also presents you and me with an opportunity."

"Wait," said Harry, checking to make sure McGonagall wasn't listening. "How do you know professor Quirrell is missing?"

"We're having study hall with the first year Ravenclaws," said Draco. "They have Defense Against the Dark Arts right now. That means that their teacher, old towel head, is missing and no one can cover. Now about a little deal..."

Harry shrugged. "What is it?" he asked.

Draco grinned. "There's this second year Ravenclaw I've got eating out of the palm of my hand," he said. "She does all my homework for me and if you want I'll have her do yours too, for a price."

Harry's turn to smirk had arrived and he glanced at Draco. "I knew you couldn't be getting all those C's by yourself," he whispered. "Somebody had to be holding you up."

Draco's face soured. "Stuff it," he sneered. "Do you want in or not?"

Harry shook his head. "I've got more help than I need right now anyway, thanks though."

Draco walked to the front of the line with a muttered obscenity directed at Harry, leaving the young sorcerer to grin to himself. His mind quickly turned to the fact that both Snape and Quirrell were unaccounted for. Harry quickly found a spot and and sat down with his bag. Pulling out his spellbook and endeavoring to look busy, he stared down at the page and tried to think of a reason for Snape and Quirrell to both be gone. As the thoughts turned over and over in his mind, and as much as he tried to reject the notion, the only contingency that fit with all the evidence was that one of the teachers was going for the Stone and the other was moving to stop them.

And I haven't had a chance to talk to Dumbledore... Harry fretted, wishing he'd gone immediately after breakfast to see the headmaster. I can't believe it would come to a head this quickly! He reached inside his bag, groping for the invisibility cloak that usually never left his possession. Shit! he almost yelled, realizing he'd given the cloak to Ron. Harry's hand thrust into the air, waving furiously for McGonagall's attention.

"What's the matter?" asked the professor, stopping behind Harry. "You look like Miss Granger during an extra credit quiz."

Harry produced a small copper token from his robe and held it out for McGonagall to see. "Very sorry professor," he said. "But I needed to return this to professor Dumbledore yesterday. It's important that he gets it back immediately."

McGonagall straightened up and folded her hands. "Well then I'm afraid you've missed your chance," she said. "Professor Dumbledore left late last night for London. He and Hagrid are to speak before the Ministry of Magic on … a rather important matter."

Harry's face went completely blank. Realizing that he had just run out of options, Harry turned away from the professor in red and stared intently down at his spellbook. "Oh," he said. "I see. Well thank you."

McGonagall looked down her nose at the student for a moment, before shrugging and walking away, leaving the young sorcerer frozen in place. A cold sweat broke out across Harry's forehead and trembles ran down his arms. Think, think, think, think... he tried to jump start his brain, but the very idea that either Snape or Quirrell was making a move for the Stone paralyzed him with fear. He reached instinctively for his cloak one more time, desperately wanting to disappear without expending his own energy, but his hand met with nothing but the bottom his bag. That's it! he exclaimed in his mind. I need the cloak!

Two hours later the tallest tower of Hogwarts echoed with the drum of the great iron bells, alerting the entire school to the time. Almost immediately the doors to professor Sprout's burst open and a great flood of students clad in red and gold spilled into the hall. Neville, Hermione, and Ron walked among them, talking and joking amongst themselves.Quick as a thought, Harry, dressed in Gryffindor robes, walked out of an alcove and joined the procession of students.

"Ron," he said, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and continuing forward, not giving him the chance to stop moving. "Where's my cloak?"

"Harry?" Ron muttered in disbelief. "What are you- why are you dressed like-"

"Where's my cloak?" Harry interrupted. By now Hermione and Neville had noticed him though both kept walking.

"What are you doing here?' asked Hermione. "Shouldn't you be with Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore's gone. Whoever is going after the Stone is making their move. Ron, I need my cloak right now."

Ron stammered for a second, but Hermione beat him to speaking. "You're not going down the trapdoor," she hissed, casting about to ensure no unnecessary attention had fallen on them. "Not no but never."

"I'm out of options, Hermione," Harry answered. "With Dumbledore gone I can't trust anyone but you three and I need to get that Stone before Snape or Quirrell. Now Ron, where is my cloak?"

Slowing down so the group of four students fell back to the rear of the procession, Ron turned to Harry. "I left it in my room," he answered, his expression growing deadly serious. "And I'll only get it for you on one condition."

Neville tried to interrupt, stepping between harry and Ron. "What are you two talking about?" he broke in.

"Quit joking," Harry growled, ignoring Neville.

"We're going with you," said Hermione. "If you're going down the trapdoor, then so are we. Don't bother telling us we can't," she said before Harry could answer.

"Where are you two talking about?" Neville interjected, grabbing both Hermione and Harry by the wrists and catching both by surprise. "Quit butting me out of this."

Hermione looked at Ron and nodded to Neville. Almost immediately Ron put a hand on Neville's shoulder and pulled him away.

"C'mon, I'll explain on the way," said the Weasley before turning to Hermione and Harry. "Meet you two at the trapdoor. "

Hermione looked up at Harry as Neville and Ron split away from the group. "This is all happening awfully fast," she said nonchalantly, scanning the students ahead of them and watching for a good chance to disappear into a side hall.

"I worried that it might," he answered as the two of them ducked down a narrow passage and walked to the stairwell at the end. "But that doesn't matter. All that counts is getting to the Stone first and hiding it."

"How do you plan on doing that?" asked the girl, quickly ascending the stairs with Harry.

"My cloak of invisibility should work," he answered. "Snape said it could keep anyone from scrying on the wearer or divining their location, which Dumbledore confirmed. So, I'm just going to get the Stone wrap it in the cloak, and bury it until Dumbledore gets back. He can take it from there."

"Sounds good," said Hermione, leading the way down another narrow corridor and doubling back down a flight of stairs.

"You and Ron sure seemed prepared," said Harry, walking out into the main chamber of Gryffindor Tower. Looking up and down from the landing on which he stood, counting the number of moving stairways in both directions, he quickly judged that they were on the fifth floor. "Have the two of you talked this over much?"

Hermione nodded and shifted her bag on her back. "We both suspected you might try to investigate what the dog was guarding," she said. "And we both agreed that we'd go with you if you did."

Harry sighed as a flight of stairs, leading down, crunched into place at his feet. Following Hermione down, the young Sorcerer realized he'd left his spellbook in study hall. He shrugged and continued on, knowing no one could open it without his first undoing the lock with his own magic. "I wish you wouldn't insist," he muttered.

"Too bad," said the girl as they arrived at the third floor corridor and ran to the end. Hermione stopped at the single door at the end of the hall and pressed her ear to the wood. Closing her eyes and listening for a moment, she stepped back. "I don't hear anything."

"I'll bet they moved it out," said Harry. "Probably took it to London."

Hermione sat in the hall and pulled her bag up beside her, drawing out her spellbook and setting it in her lap. While Harry leaned against the wall, Hermione opened the massive volume and began silently reading over one of the pages of runes. Ash she prepared a series of spells, Harry closed his eyes and tried to center himself, gathering up and taking stock of the magical energy boiling just beneath the surface of his skin. As they waited for Ron and possibly Neville, both spellcasters prepared themselves in their own ways.

Hermione closed her book with a heavy thud and looked up at Harry. "I know you're a sorcerer," she said.

The declaration stabbed into Harry like a knife and he squirmed to remain calm. Breathing deeply, he kept his eyes closed and focused on readying as much energy as he could. "Very funny," he said. "What brought that on?"

A moment passed before Hermione answered. "When we fought the troll together, you worked spells no first year should know, that was the first big tip off," she said. "And that made me watch more closely so I started picking up on little mistakes and clues."

"Such as?" Harry asked.

"When you cast a spell you never get the verbal component right," she said. "You just mutter some random Latin word to cover it up. You try to hide the material components after you're done with a spell, but I've noticed you using the same components over and over in class. You don't handle your wand right, and all of your spells go off with a green hue to them and without any hint of arcane heat... trademarks of sorcery."

Harry grinned nervously. "I thought you probably knew," he said. "You're too smart not to pick up on any of it. But why tell me now?"

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and ran her hands over the cover of the book in her lap. "I want you to know you can trust me," she said. "Your secret's safe... and," she paused and looked up at him. "And you really need to work on keeping your secret better. It might work right now, but if you don't learn to hide your tells then someone will notice. Honestly I can't believe the teachers haven't picked up on it."

"Alright, alright," said, opening one eye and glancing between Hermione and the door. "If you insist, I promise I'll work on it."

"I do," Hermione said. "Now where is Ron?"

"If he lost my cloak, I'll-" Harry stopped and put his hands behind his back. "Probably survive it and move on," he joked.

The pair waited in silence for several minutes until two figures came jogging around the corner to the hallway. Harry and Hermione got to their feet as Neville and Ron stopped in front of them. Triumphantly grinning, Ron reached into his bag and handed the warping cloak over to Harry.

"Sorry," said the Weasley. "Neville insisted that we prepare a few cantrips if nothing else."

Neville scowled at Ron. "Because if you're going to do this then it would be better to come as prepared as we can be and not have to lug around a bunch of heavy spellbooks." He turned to Harry and Hermione. "I still don't know what's going on here," he said. "But I'm not letting you do this alone."

Harry grinned, looking around at the three other students. "I don't know what I did to deserve three friends as good as you guys," he said, drawing his wand, "but I'm glad you're all here."

Hermione cleared her throat and turned to face the door, drawing from her robe a small wire twisted into the shape of a key. Pointing her wand at the lock and whispering a word, she held out the imitation of a key and braced herself. In a searing flash, the wire burned up and the tip of Hermione's wand glowed a dull purple. She gritted her teeth as the reaction, but held her hand steady as the lock clicked.

"Alright," Harry said, holding up the invisibility cloak, ready to throw it over their clustered group. "Ron, care to have a look?"

The Weasley nodded and stepped forward while Hermione positioned herself behind Harry. Ron grasped the handle and took a steadying breath, hand shaking as he pulled on the latch. The hall filled with a quiet creak as the door's hinges shifted and a small seam of dark appeared along the side of the iron frame. Ron poked his head around and studied the scene for a second.

"I can't see anything," he whispered back. "And it's quiet... give me a second." The boy popped open one of the buttoned leather pouches on his belt and drew out a the remains of a small insect, a firefly Harry guessed. "Anyone got a stone or something?"

"Gotcha," Neville said, handing Neville a marble from his component pouch. "I hadn't planned on needing to transmute anything anyway."

Ron held the marble and the dead firefly in one hand and pointed his wand at the two objects. Muttering a command, the firefly winked out of existence in a puff of wispy smoke, and the marble flickered with an inner light. Quickly shifting his hand through the door, Ron tossed the marble into the dark room just before the little glass sphere lit up like a torch, casting a bright enough light to clearly illuminate the empty room beyond the portal.

"There's nothing," said Ron. "The dog is gone," he pulled the door open and stepped inside, quickly followed by the others. As Harry shut the door behind them, Ron walked to the center of the room where the glowing marble sat, and picked up the little orb. "We've got about ten minutes before this goes out," he said.

"Better hurry then," Harry added, walking to the trapdoor and searching for a latch until his fingers fumbled across the metal keyhole. "Great," he sighed. "This one's locked too," he gave it a quick tug and found the door firmly shut, then looked up to Hermione. "Any more Open spells ready to go?" he asked.

"I only prepared two," she said. "If I use this one here then that'll be it."

"Hold on," said Neville, stepping forward while Ron held the light high. The bigger boy knelt down by the trapdoor and reached into his robe. He grinned, looking up at Ron and pulled out a small vial of a sickly green substance. "And you didn't want to take the time to get ready," he said, popping the cork on the vial. Carefully, Neville dripped a single globule into the locking mechanism on the trapdoor and pointed his wand down at the latch.

A command word escaped the boy's lips and the lock instantly began to fizz and hiss. Sounding more like boiling water than melting metal, the lock deformed and began to cave in. "Now," Neville ordered, and Harry heaved on the door. Giving a little before snapping like a twig, the weakened lock broke and Harry jerked the trapdoor open.

"My grandmother taught me that one over break," said Longbottom. "I didn't think I'd be using it so early." He rubbed his hands together and put the vial back in his robe.

Harry scooted to the edge of the wide pit in the floor and peered over the edge, down into the inky depths. "So," he said, "who wants climb down the dark hole in the castle full of things that want to kill us?"

Stepping up next to Harry, Ron held the shining glass sphere over the black, illuminating a shaft running straight down for farther than the light could reach. The redhead looked over at Harry, then turned back to the hole and dropped the marble. Falling and lighting up the perfectly walls as it descended, the marble seemed to hang suspended for only a second before falling into a patch of green. All four students now gathered around the pit peered down at the mass of what looked like green vines.

"What do you think?" said Hermione, kneeling down and reaching into her bag. "Thirty feet?"

"Sounds about right," Harry answered, still staring down the pit. "Maybe a little less, but I still wouldn't want to jump it."

"Won't have to,"said the girl, pulling out a coil of silk rope.

"Just carry that around with you, do you?" asked Ron.

Hermione smirked. "You thought you came prepared," she said. "I've read about great wizards being brought down by situations simpler than this. Sometimes the most mundane necessities are the most important. Besides," she tossed one end of the rope down the pit and handed the other to Harry, "what's wrong with a girl walking around with fifteen feet of rope in her pack, just in case?"

Harry shook his head and looked down the pit, fingers tightly grasping the rope. "It's not long enough," he said.

"Which is where magic does come in handy," she pointed her wand at the rope and whispered an order.

Growing warm, hot even, in Harry's hands, the rope began writhing like a snake. Harry had to tighten his grip as the slick cord seemed to grow thinner, but expand down the pit, dangling off only a few feet from the green floor beneath the pit's exit.

"It should be about twenty-three feet long now," Hermione pointed out, "we can drop the rest without too much trouble."

"Alright," Harry wound the rope around his hands another time and braced his feet, readying to hold the rope secure. Drawing on a small portion of magic, Harry directed the energy into his arms and his feet. He felt his muscles tighten, passed the point where they would normally ache, and his feet grow unnaturally heavy. "I can hold it on this end."

"Then I'll go first," said Ron, stepping up in front of Harry, motioning to Neville for aide, and dropping one leg down over the edge. "See you on the other side." He carefully lowered himself down on the ledge, until both feet dangled in the pit and only Neville holding his hands held him up. Gingerly gripping the rope to avoid throwing Harry off balance, Ron transferred his weight to the silk lifeline and began letting himself slide himself down.

"No worries!" Ron called up the shaft after a moment. He'd almost reached the end of the rope. "It looks perfectly stable," he said, "but there's some giant plant down here!" he yelled, now hanging freely in the room below, not supported by any walls. "It covers the entire floor and I don't see a door."

"Hold tight," Harry shouted down the shaft. "I'm going to pull you up!"

"Don't worry," Ron answered. "I think it's safe," he let go of the rope. Above, Harry pitched backwards until Hermione and Neville caught him, while below Ron dropped onto the floor of thick green vines with a muffled creak. "It's alright!" he called up the shaft, holding his arms out beside him to keep his balance. "This things as soft as a pillow! We probably don't really need the rope!"

"Still," Harry muttered, frowning and repositioning by the end of the pit. "Not taking any chances. Whose next?"

Neville lowered himself partway down the shaft, just as Ron had, before letting go of the ledge and shifting his weight onto the rope. While Harry held him steady and Hermione watched with a readied wand in one hand and a down feather in the other, Neville slid down the rope. A case-study of control, Neville maintained a steady pace, looking up and down at regular intervals to check his distances from the top and bottom.

"Neville's so much braver than people know," Harry grinned as he felt the rope go slack and heard Neville land on the vine covered floor.

"You think?" Hermione mumbled.

Harry nodded. "It's buried pretty deep, but he's got real courage. Just look at how far he's come in less than a year... going from the crying boy on the Hogwarts Express to someone willing, no, insistent on following his friends into very real danger."

"True," said Hermione, leaning over and grabbing the rope. "You've got a plan to get down?"

Harry grinned. "You know me," he said.

Sliding down the rope, Hermione smirked back. "Better believe it," she said, before turning her attention to the slowly approaching floor. Reaching the bottom of the rope she let go and dropped onto the vines. Both Ron and Neville were there to steady her as the vines almost pitched her down.

"Harry?" Neville called up. "How are you going to get down."

Harry felt the serpent hiding in his sleeve, tighten its coils around his arm to get his attention. "That's a very good question," Bacid hissed. "How do you plan on-" Harry jumped over the edge without a thought and began falling to the floor below. He felt Bacid wrap around his arm like a vice in response, and Harry snapped his fingers. As soon as the three students below called out or gasped in surprise, a puff of magic left Harry's chest and his plummet slowed to a lazy crawl. The sorcerer grinned and tapped his sleeve.

"Feather Fall," he said as the rope fell passed him down the pit. "It's a wonderful spell for a Quidditch Seeker to learn."

"Never," Bacid hissed, his voice as oily calm as ever, "do that again."

Harry landed on the green floor as Hermione coiled the rope and Ron walked to pick up the glowing marble. "Well that was fun," Harry began. "Where's the-"

Hermione screamed and Ron shouted in surprise. A green blur of motion knocked Neville to the ground and Harry's feet shot out from under him. In an instant the green vines exploded into a writhing, flowing mass of tendrils that threw the students down and rose up like a arms made massed snakes. Shell shocked, laying on his back, Harry tried to roll out of the way as one of the arms of vines came crashing down on him, but found the air knocked from his chest as the rock hard vines smashed him to the ground.

"Devil's Snare!" Hermione screamed. "Fire! We need fire or sunlight right- Gack!" She choked on the last word as the churning mass of vines sucked the students into its inky core.

Harry felt himself being crushed from every angle as the vines ground him wrapped around him like enormous constricting snakes. Over the deafening drone of the grinding plant, Harry could hear Ron shouting that they were all dead. Fighting panic in the dark, Harry reached for his magic and forced his hand up, finding nothing but more of the coiling, writing plant.

"Burn!" screamed the sorcerer, using the last breath in his lungs.

Lighting up the interior of the plant like noontime sunlight, throwing heat and twisting shadows in all directions, a ball of searing light as intense as the sun leapt to life in Harry's outstretched hand. The Devil's Snare shrieked like a wounded animal as the miniature sun instantly burned away several of its tendrils, and the rest of the tentacles scurried away from Harry. The sorcerer dropped through the plant as it retreated from him, landing by sheer luck on his feet when he found the floor a meter beneath him.

"Burn!" he shouted again, pouring more energy into the little sun. The fiery orb exploded out to the size of a large beach ball, and Harry shoved it into the core of the plant. Shrieking again, the Devil's Snare seemed to catch fire all at once as if it were made of dry brush and burn to cinders in a flash. Losing control of the magic, Harry instinctively mentally heaved to dominate the spell and force much of the energy back into his reserves, releasing the rest in a blast of hot smoke.

Shouting in surprise, Hermione, Ron, and Neville all dropped to the ground below, amidst a steady snow of Ash. They collapsed in a heap around Harry, who swooned and stumbled to catch himself on the wall. As the other students took a moment to get up, Harry leaned against the concrete surface, putting his hand up to his head as if the motion would easy the throbbing wracking his brain.

"Way too much," he muttered.

Neville, clearing his throat before he spoke and still unable not to sound frightened, approached the young sorcerer. "What in the world was that?" he asked.

"A weakened Wizard's Dawn," said Harry. "Dumbledore taught it to me..." He straightened up and looked around at the other students, wincing in sympathy pain. Ron, Neville, and Hermione had all been ground up fairly bad by the Devil's Snare. None of them had escaped without most of their exposed skin rubbed completely raw by the vines, and their robes all but shredded. Feeling a stinging pain wrapping around him like a hot wind, Harry looked at his hands, which were raw all over and bleeding at the knuckles.

"I feel like we just went through a meat grinder," Hermione muttered, touching her cheek and drawing her fingertips away bloody. "Thanks," she smiled at Harry. "The Devil's Snare was masticating us."

"Ew," Ron's face went sour and he shifted awkwardly away.

"Masticating," Hermione groaned. "Like chewing your food."

"Oh," Ron muttered. "I knew that."

Hermione shook her head. "Pervert."

Neville took a long look around the room, looking through the falling Ash and point off to the far end of the chamber. "Well there's the door," he said, crossing the room and stepping up to the closed iron portal. As he listened intently, pressing his ear against the cold surface, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all stepped up beside him.

"Hear anything?" Harry asked, still wincing through the stinging. A quick spark of realization striking him, Harry tapped his sleeve, luckily one of the only parts of his robe not to be shredded beyond repair. He felt Bacid coil a little tighter and whisper that he was fine.

Neville pulled away from the door and shrugged. "No. Not with my ears still ringing."

"Let's see what's waiting for us now," Harry said, taking the handle and pulling on the door.

The heavy iron plate, cast in a checkered pattern, opened in silent hinges into an enormous room lit by flameless torches set in the walls. Stepping inside, the students cautiously looked about as their footsteps echoed off the checkered black and white marble beneath their feet. Statues, some as standing as tall as ten feet high, stood motionless on the enormous squares of marble, like two armies silently facing one another.

"It's a giant chessboard." Ron muttered, pointing to the statues of castles, horses, and humanoid figures. "Only the white side is missing a few pieces..."

"And there's the door," Harry grinned, pointing towards the opposite wall and walking passed the white figures. He got to roughly the center of the board, the others following behind him, before it occurred to the young sorcerer that he was currently in a castle stocked to the brim all manner of dangerous magical artifacts, searching through one of the most dangerous sections of that castle, looking for a powerful item guarded by nightmarish monsters.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Wait," he said, bringing the others to a halt. "There's no way it's this easy..."

"I was thinking the same thing," muttered Neville. "There's got to be some trick to this."

"Like what?" asked Hermione, she took a step forward. "What could-"

A metallic ring filled the air as the line of pawns, hunched figures each bearing a pair of scimitars, all drew their swords and formed an interlocking wall of metal between the students and the exit. Hermione gasped and jumped back as the three boys all took cautious steps away from the pawns. As they stepped back the line of statues, stretching from one wall all the way to the other, relaxed and went back to a less threatening stance.

"It's a game," Neville muttered. "We have to play."

The four students looked at each other and turned back to the white statues opposite the darker ones.

"A bishop, and the queen are missing," Ron muttered, grinning through the anxiety building in his mind, before glancing at the black side before turning back to the white. "And both of our knights are missing their riders. One for each of us, how convenient."

Ron walked back to the white statues and walked between them for a moment, before stopping at the king's knight, and climbing into the saddle of the rearing marble horse. "Neville," Ron ordered, voice growing firmer. "You take queen's knight, Hermione, you take bishop, and Harry, you take the queen's position."

Neville walked up to the other horse without complaint and slung himself into the saddle. Hermione walked to the queen bishop's spot and Harry stepped into the queen's position.

"Why do I have to play the queen?" asked Harry.

Ron looked around as the glowing orange lights along the walls shifted to a deep red and grew brighter, filling the expansive chamber with an infernal hue. "Does it really matter?" he asked, his heart rate rising as chamber grew hotter, as if in answer to the lights turning red. "Just get ready because white goes first. C2 to C4!" Ron ordered.

In spite of expecting it, all four students twitched in surprise as the heavy marble statue to Neville's right shifted forward, sliding across two squares and covering ten feet in all. A moment passed and a pawn on the opposite side of the board slid forward I answer to the move.

"E2 to E4!" Ron ordered, prompting another pawn to slide forward.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Hermione whispered to Harry as the black side made its move, positioning a knight.

Harry shrugged. "Ron's the best I know," he said. "If anyone can beat whoever we're playing, he can." Both Harry and Hermione turned as the black side's queen, a tall figure carrying a halberd took several steps at an angle across the board and stood in front of Ron's pawn. Lifting the halberd, the queen smashed down on the pawn with the hammer fixed to the end of the pole, crushing the statue with a resounding boom. The queen took several more strikes at the destroyed figure, pulverizing it into dust before moving into its square.

The four students all watched in horror as the queen raised her halberd over her head triumphantly. A ghostly wail filled the room as she screamed a war cry and plunged the butt of her weapon into the ground beside her. Slowly, Hermione, Harry, and Neville all turned to look at a petrified Ron. The Weasley sat wide-eyed in the saddle and swallowed hard.

"Great..." he muttered. "We're playing for keeps..."

"Ron," Harry called. "Are you sure you've got this?"

Turning quickly to the young sorcerer, Ron took a second before he nodded. "I'll keep you all out of the way," he answered. "I'll just have to think a little harder is all."

Over the next hour, Ron and the invisible will guiding the enemy pieces exchanged blows and moves. Each time one piece claimed another, smashing or hacking it to rubble, a guttural or baleful scream filled the room, shaking the student's to their cores. More than once, Ron had to move one of his friends into a position directly beside an enemy piece but Harry, Neville, and Hermione all obeyed without complaint and took their places. The only comfort Harry could take was that he only had to move up next to a piece Ron ordered his to capture, and the opposing statue would crumble and give up its place to the young sorcerer.

Dragging on into its second hour, the board gradually cleared. Neither side was quick to risk its tokens, and Ron especially took great pains to keep his friends away from dangerous positions, never gambling with their safety. Often, Ron would sacrifice a decisive advantage over the black side to keep Hermione or Neville safe, but the toll began to wear on the young wizard. His expendable forces were failing him faster than he could push the other side back, and Ron kept discovering his plans had to risk one of his comrades.

"Harry!" Ron shouted from the far end of the board. "Move to E7!"

Harry spotted the position and he sucked in a truncated breath. "Are you joking?" he called back, spotting the square flanked by his opponents bishop and threatened by its knight.

"Trust me!" Ron called out. "It will be alright!"

Harry steeled himself and walked forward, passed Hermione, and stood next to the black bishop. The statue wearing the miter turned its head and looked down at him, gripping its glaive in both hands and staring at him with an eyeless face. The young sorcerer felt his blood go cold as the bishop took a step passed him and positioned itself to threaten Ron's king, reinforced by the dark rook.

"Alright, alright," said Ron, out of breath. "All according to plan..." He ordered Neville to step in and destroy the bishop, to which the black knight responded by shifting away and destroying Ron's last rook. "This is it then," the young wizard muttered, looking between Hermione, whose line of threat now passed directly by the opposing king. "Harry," Ron shouted. "You see what I want you to do when I move to take the king's other bishop?"

The sorcerer looked at the board, taking a moment to study the possible outcomes of such a move, and immediately turned back to Ron. "No!" he shouted. "Ron, that's out of the question!"

"You see what you can do," Ron straightened up in his saddle, lip quivering. "Put the king in checkmate!" he ordered, before telling his mount to move forward and attack the dark king's bishop.

Watching with his breath held, Harry felt his heart leap into his mouth as Ron's horse reared up and smashed the bishop with its hooves. He ignored Hermione as she called out to ask what was going on, focusing instead on the enemies queen as she turned to glare at Ron.

"Check!" Ron shouted.

Without hesitation, the enemy queen gripped her halberd and stomped across the board, clearing the way to the king for Harry as she stalked towards Ron. The Weasley boy's facade of resolve crumbled and he squeezed his eyes shut as the queen raised her halberd over her head with an earsplitting howl. Swiping down, she smashed the axehead of the weapon into the pommel of the knight's saddle, pulverizing the horse in an instant and throwing Ron to the ground in a heap.

Hermione's face went pale. "No!" she screamed, starting forward.

"Stop!" Harry shouted, filling his voice with a compelling magic and freezing Hermione where she stood. "Don't move."

"Ron!" she answered, pointing to the fallen wizard but unable to run to him.

"Wait, just wait!" Harry shouted back, barely finishing his sentence before running from his square to the position next to the enemy king. "Checkmate!"

The king, easily the tallest figure on the board and carved in the image of an armored soldier with an enormous clamor, dropped to one knee with a thud, and released its sword. The weapon fell squarely at Harry's feet and a mournful cry sounded inside the king's armor, echoing out into the chamber. The cry seemed to quench the harsh red torches, as they returned to their more subdued green hue. Without waiting another second, Hermione ran to Ron and Neville jumped down from his horse.

"He's bleeding," Hermione stammered, holding the unconscious wizard in her arms and cradling his head. "He must have fallen hard."

"I'm just glad he's not dead," Harry sighed, kneeling down and examining their wounded companion. "Looks like he hit his head," he went on as he spotted the bloody mat of hair on the back of Ron's skull. "That could be nasty."

"But he's alive," said Neville, turning and looking across the room at the door set in the opposite wall. "Should we go back?"

Harry shook his head. "We can't now, we've come too far."

"We can't leave him," Hermione looked up at Harry, tears in her eyes.

"I wouldn't ask you to," he answered, staring across the checkered floor to the door on the other side of the room. "Hermione, you stay here with Ron. Neville and I will keep going."

"What?" Hermione and Neville both turned to him.

"Unless you want to leave him stranded," Harry gestured to Ron, "then it's the only option, because I'm going to go get the Philosopher's Stone, no matter what."

Neville lowered his chin and reached up to rub his eyes, as if to wipe away the fear painted on his face. "I've come this far," he answered. "I won't quit now."

Hermione took a deep breath and looked down at Ron. "I'll wait here," she said. "You two need to promise to come back though."

Helping Hermione move Ron to the comparative safety of the corner of the room, Neville and Harry carried their helpless companion as carefully as they could, before leaving him exclusively in Hermione's care. The two boys crossed the room one last time, coming to the door opposite that through which they'd come, and Harry put his hand on the knob.

"You sure you're ready?" Harry asked, the doorknob clicking in his hand.

Neville's eyes darted between Harry and the door. Pursing his lips and sucking in a breath through his nose, Neville nodded quickly. "We shouldn't let anything on the other side see Hermione or Ron," the boy whispered.

Pulling the door open, Harry and Neville stepped through immediately and shut the iron hatch behind them, only stopping to look around once they'd entered the chamber beyond. Wands drawn the students took a few careful steps into the dim sewer of a chamber. Walking down a shallow ramp that faded away into a pool of stagnant and inky water, the boys could see only by the light of a torch, set in a sconch on the room's far wall. As they walked farther, only the sound of their wading in the silent pool breaking the silence, the water gradually deepened until Neville and Harry found themselves knee deep in the obsidian pool.

Neville gasped and froze. "Something bumped my leg," he hissed.

The sound of a single drop of water striking the pool rung like a bell in the chamber. Harry stood motionless only a pace ahead of Neville as the plip echoed off the distant walls, growing quieter but remaining eerily audible.

"Keep walking," said Harry, taking another step and motioning for Neville to do the same.

"There is is again," Neville croaked. "Harry there's something in the water."

Looking towards the door and the torch, Harry guessed the distance to be less than twenty meters, but given the water's steadily increasing depth, it seemed to the sorcerer entirely possible that they'd have to swim before the end. He looked at Neville, pointed to his eyes and motioned to the far door. Neville nodded and tensed.

"On three," Harry muttered, turning in the unnaturally still pool, hearing a another plip of water somewhere in the distance. "One... two... Three!"

Shattering the silence in a torrent of splashing,Neville and Harry dashed for the door. The ground beneath their feet dropped off as the invisible plateau ended, and both boys splashed completely beneath the surface. Harry instinctively tried to scream as something sharp snagged his ankle. His whole left leg burned as a sudden jerk sucked him downwards and drove the barb farther into his ankle. Mind swirling in terror, Harry clutched at his wand and pointed it down towards his foot.

As a burst of magic left his chest, Harry felt an explosive shockwave tear through the water. The claws jabbing into his ankle went slack for a second, and Harry felt Bacid tighten his grip. As realization dawned on him that he didn't know which way was up, Harry simply kicked and flailed his arms to swim away from the monster in the darkness, but the claw in his leg again held him back. A stabbing pain erupted in his thigh as a second and possibly a third barb dug into his flesh and began yanking him down.

His lungs burning, Harry again pointed his want down towards his leg and unleashed another ray of magic. The dim bolt of green energy flashed and crushed into Harry's leg, driving the three barbs he saw in even deeper, but severing them from whatever thick appendage to which they had been attached. Harry spotted for only a second the nebulous shape farther down in the incalculably deep pool before the next tendril racing up to grab him faded into the darkening water as the light from the spell faded.

Heart racing, Harry turned and tried to kick for the surface, feeling his fingers poke through the ceiling of water only an instant before a bone crushing force crashed in on his leg and sucked him back down into the darkness. Harry couldn't even tell if his eyes were open as they throbbed in their sockets. His whole body screamed for want of air, and a third time he took aim with his wand. Expelling the last stale breath in his lungs Harry cried out and unleashed a prismatic spray of energy from his wand. The weaving band of light washed his already burning leg in fiery pain, but again severed the tendrils and illuminated the two appendages retreating back towards the shape in the deep below.

Harry gasped in a breath of air as his head broke through the water. His hair dripping down his face and blinding him, Harry reached out randomly and felt for anything solid he could grab. Just as his fingers struck a stone ledge, a tight grasp closed around his wrist and began pulling him out of the water. He recognized Neville's voice as the Gryffindor student pulled him from the water and away from the ledge.

"I've got you Harry," Neville barked, his voice sounding far away to the sorcerer. "Are you alright?"

Laying on his back, Harry reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He tried for a breath, but could only roll onto his side and heave the water out of his airways. "I've been better," Harry coughed before gagging and spitting up another mouthful of water. "Glad you're alright," he looked up at Neville.

"What was that thing?" Longbottom asked, pressing his back to the wall by the door and staring intently at the once again unbroken surface of the obsidian pool.

Harry wiped his mouth and nose on his sleeve. "I don't know and I don't care," he muttered, pushing himself up to his feet. "You tried the door?"

Neville shook his head. "I wanted to get you out first."

Looking back across the surface of the water for only a second, Harry quickly made sure he hadn't lost anything in the water. Satisfied that all of his possessions were still in place, he turned back to Neville and nodded to the door. "Let's just get this over with," he said.

"What happened to your leg?" asked Neville.

Pausing, Harry looked down at the black barbs, not dissimilar from fishhooks the size of eagle talons, poking out of his robe and pinning the fabric to his leg. As soon as he saw the wounds they began to sting, then burn. Harry reached for the magic in his chest, knowing he couldn't use the energy to heal the wounds, and bent it with his will to deaden the pain.

"I can keep going," said the young sorcerer as the puncture wounds went numb. "Let's move."