After dinner, in which Dumbledore further failed to make an appearance, the four of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything more to say- only loads of them lingered because they were all talking about the mysterious two hundred points that had seemingly emerged out of nowhere- just like the one hundred and fifty points lost before.
Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try and break. Draco, Harry, and Ron didn't talk much. All of them were thinking about what they were about to do.
Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.
"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Draco watched Harry nod, then disappear up the stairs to the dormitory. Absolutely nothing could stop them from doing this now- they had to- who cares if it even happened the first time, if Potter had really gone down by himself in the other timeline to stop the Stone? Draco wasn't just along for the ride anymore. He had to make sure that this is really what happened, that everything would work out okay. He couldn't leave it to chance.
"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us- if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own-"
"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Longbottom appeared from behind an armchair, clutching his toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom. Treb? Torquil? Trevor?
Bollocks.
Draco stood up in front of Harry, as Harry hurriedly put the cloak behind his back. "Nothing, Longbottom."
Neville stared at their guilty faces.
"You're going out again," he said.
"No, no, no," said Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"
Draco looked at the grandfather clock, ticking over by the portrait hole. They couldn't afford to waste any more time. The Dark Lord could already be playing that dog to sleep.
"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."
"You don't understand," said Harry, nudging Draco. "This is important."
Draco snapped back to attention. Then, he looked at Neville.
Fuck.
Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. "I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll- I'll fight you!" He held his wand out in front of him. Grubby hands shaking.
Draco took a cautious step forward. "Neville," he tried, tentatively, "Put the wand down."
"Yeah, get away from that hole and don't be an idiot-" Ron's voice was desperate.
"Don't you call me an idiot!" exploded Neville. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And it was you blokes that were the ones who told me to stand up to people!"
Draco and Ron exchanged a look.
"Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."
He took a step forward to match Draco's position, and Neville dropped his toad, who leapt out of sight.
"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"
Ron turned to Draco. "Do something," he said desperately.
Draco looked from Hermione to Harry- they were looking at him too. Draco sighed and drew his wand from his pocket. "Longbottom, I'm sorry," Draco said, truly apologetic. "But we've got to do something and you're standing in our way."
But Neville had lunged. Ron cried out and Hermione let out a squeak of surprise. Harry stood stock-still, and Draco acted before Neville could attack him- he didn't think, he just did- Merlin, it was all his fault-
Neville fell, Draco's nonverbal Stupefy seeming to have done its job.
"What did you do?" Hermione squeaked, bending over Neville from where he had dropped like a sack of potatoes.
"What, like you were going to do anything!" Ron protested, as Draco pocketed his wand. Ron looked deeply impressed.
"I was actually going to put him in a Body-Bind-"
And then Draco realised that yes, that was probably the better way to have gone around things. But he'd attacked, and Draco reacted! He wasn't going to end up in a muggle-style brawl with Longbottom tonight.
"Stunned him," Draco said, walking closer to Longbottom's unconscious form. "He'll be alright, usually it takes a couple of hours to regain consciousness if something doesn't wake him up first. Let's go."
Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak from behind his back as they stepped over Neville toward the exit. But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.
"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Draco's ear, but Draco shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.
They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing half-way up, greasing the floor at the top so that people would trip.
"Who's there?" The poltergeist said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"
He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.
"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."
Draco's panic rose further until Harry started talking. What the-
"Peeves," said Harry, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."
Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.
"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, Sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake- I didn't see you- of course I didn't, you're invisible- forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."
"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."
"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."
And he scooted off.
"Brilliant, Harry!" whispered Ron.
A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor- and the door was already ajar. A feeling of intense foreboding seemed to strike Draco at once.
"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly. "Quirrell and Snape have already got past Fluffy."
Seeing the door open somehow seemed to impress upon all four of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned Draco and the other two.
"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."
"Are you mad?" Draco said indignantly.
"Don't be stupid," said Ron.
"We're coming," said Hermione.
Harry pushed the door open.
As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.
"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.
"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Someone must have left it there."
"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Harry. "Well, here goes..."
Draco watched as Harry put the wooden flute he must have gotten from Hagrid on Christmas to his lips, and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Draco hardly dared to breathe, as the flute's sharp and wooden melody washed over it. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased- it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.
"Keep playing," Draco warned Harry as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor, Hermione and Ron just behind them. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. "I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Draco, peering over the dog's back. "I suppose I'll go first."
He felt strange, as if he could do well- anything, right now. He knew it wasn't right, but it was better than letting the solid fear take over. They could very well be facing anything down there! Nevertheless, Draco stepped forward, bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and opened.
"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.
Draco peered below- it was blackness, pure blackness. A deep hole in which he could see no bottom. We'll have to use a slowing charm for sure, he thought as he looked back to the others, who were waiting nervously.
Draco tried to not let any breathiness escape his throat. "Nothing- just black- there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."
Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Draco to get his attention and pointed at himself.
"You want to go first?" asked Draco.
Harry nodded.
Draco nodded back- acting as if he was considering this ludicrous idea- when really he was attempting to calculate whether he'd be able to say Arresto Momentum quietly enough so that the others wouldn't notice. But while Harry continued to play, Draco crouched down low to the trapdoor- opened it, shrugged at Harry, and-
Let go.
Hermione and Ron cried out as they tried to stop him, but Draco was already jumping. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down and—before he could consider whether it was smarter to just land- as the fall was less long than he thought it would be— he whispered "Arresto Momentum!"
And stopped- suspended in midair, for the shortest moment, and landed. On something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.
"Draco!" Hermione called desperately. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah!" he called up to the light, which was the size of a very small portrait (the open trapdoor), "It's a soft landing, you can jump!"
Ron followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to Draco.
"What's this stuff?" were his first words.
Draco looked around, lit his wand with a lumos, and looked down. "Some sort of plant," he frowned. "I suppose it's here to break the fall... Come on, Hermione! And Harry, you next?"
The distant music stopped, and a loud bark from the dog, as Hermione and Harry both jumped, one after the other. Hermione landed on Draco's other side, and Harry-
Well, Harry nearly landed on top of him, but Draco was quicker, and scooted all the way back.
"We must be miles under the school," said Hermione.
"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Draco.
"Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. "Look at you both!"
She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Draco and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.
"Shit," muttered Draco, attempting to pull himself free, but he was already caught.
Harry had managed to free himself before the plant got a firm grip on him. Now, he watched in horror as Draco and Ron fought to pull the giant plant off of them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.
"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is- it's Devil's Snare!"
Draco immediately froze. "What?" he yelped, yanking on a particularly thick tendril that had wound itself around his stomach. "Shit, shit, the plan's gone to shit-"
"I'm so glad we know what it's called now, that's a great help!" snapped Ron, as he attempted to avoid the plant from curling around his neck.
"Shut up, both of you!" said Hermione. "I'm trying to remember how to kill it!"
"Well hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, as he was wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.
"We're all going to be killed by a plant," moaned Ron.
Draco grunted as he fought for his wand arm, which was still free. Meanwhile, Hermione was becoming more trapped- a thick tendrils had wrapped itself around her legs.
"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say—It likes the dark and the damp..."
"So light a fire!" Draco choked.
"Yes—of course—but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
"I'm trapped-"
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"
"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Quirrell at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the three boys felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.
"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," panted Harry as he joined her by the wall, wiping the sweat off his face.
"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Draco doesn't lose his head in a crisis- 'there's no wood,' honestly."
"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.
All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and the thing was more than a cavern- it was practically another set of dungeons-
"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.
Draco listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.
"Do you think... it's a ghost?" Ron asked.
"I don't know... sounds like wings to me," said Draco.
"There's light ahead—I can see something moving," peered Harry.
They reached the end of the passageway, walking in twos, and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" asked Hermione anxiously.
"Probably," said Harry, from in front of Draco and Ron. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run."
Harry took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room.
But nothing happened- he reached the door, untouched. Draco watched him pull the handle, but to no avail.
Draco, Ron, and Hermione followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge- Draco even tried Alohomora.
"Now what?" said Ron.
"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.
Draco watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering—glittering?
"They're not birds!" Draco said suddenly. "They're keys!"
"Draco, I've found broomsticks!" Harry said, while Hermione and Ron were squinting up at the keys. "I think we've got to catch the key to the door!"
"But there are hundreds of them!" said Hermione, interrupting. "How are we supposed to-"
Draco walked back over to the door, and examined the lock. "Make sure to look for a big old fashioned one, then," he suggested, "Like the door. Probably silver like the handle."
Draco seized a broomstick from Harry and they each kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. Ron joined them a moment later. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.
"I've found one!" said Harry. "That big one—there—no, there—with bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side."
Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.
"We've got to close in on it," Harry called. "Ron, you come at it from above—Draco, stay below and stop it from going down and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"
Ron dived, Draco rocketed upward- and Harry snatched the key out of the air, before it could dodge. They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, rammed the key into the lock and turned—it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.
"Ready?" Harry asked Draco, Ron, and Hermione, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. Harry pulled the door open.
The next chamber was so dark that they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.
They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were, and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Draco shivered slightly—the towering white chessmen had no faces.
"Now what do we do?" Draco whispered.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."
Behind the white pieces, they could see another door.
"How?" said Hermione nervously.
"I think," said Ron. "We're going to have to be chessmen."
He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.
"Do we—er—have to join you to get across?" Ron asked, and the black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other three.
"This needs thinking about," he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces..."
"That's a huge handicap, though," Draco pointed out.
"Blimey..." muttered Harry.
After that, they fell silent- watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess—"
Well fuck you too, Weasley.
"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."
"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you can be next to him instead of that castle..." Ron trailed off, while the thought about it.
"What about you?" Harry asked.
"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron, decisively. "And Draco... Draco'll..."
He looked hesitantly between the remaining pieces- the queen side rook and bishop... the pawns... and turned to Draco.
"Draco will have to be the King," said Ron.