Tension crackles throughout the group as Blaise pushes the door open. Hermione is glaring at Ron, Draco, and Professor Squirrel intermittently, angry that they'd weaseled their way into tonight's plans and also because Professor Squirrel is a crappy teacher who has apparently been bullying Argus Filch. Draco is glaring at Neville, angry that the blonde had managed to steal his henchmen away from him, while Ron is glaring at Neville for not letting them in on whatever was happening even though they live in the same dorm. Neville is glaring at Draco and Ron for having followed him without him noticing. Millicent is glaring at Professor Squirrel for being such a douchebag, and at Greg and Vince for joining their group even though they're total morons. Vince and Greg aren't glaring at anybody, choosing instead to just stand around with stupid looks on their faces. Professor Squirrel is absentmindedly scratching himself. Daphne is glaring at everyone for dragging her into this mess. And Blaise is glaring at the room, which has miraculously filled itself with corn.

"Damnit, I chose the wrong door again!" he complains.

Blaise yanks the door shut and storms over to the next room over, where he pulls the door open. They're greeted by loud barking which swiftly quiets when the Cerebus heads recognize Blaise.

"Blaise!" Winnie yips.

"Hi Blaise!" Kevin joins in.

"Hi!" Paul says.

The heads all approach for pets and nuzzles, which Blaise happily gives as the rest of their group files in. As the last few enter, the trio start to pay attention to the newcomers.

"So what's all this then?" Paul asks, interested.

"Oh, these are some friends of ours–" Blaise starts to say.

"We're here for the treasure," Millicent interrupts.

The Cerebus draws back, affronted.

"Excuse me?" Winnie asks.

"Are you serious?" Paul says at the same time.

"No way!" Kevin exclaims simultaneously.

The group looks confused. This is a normal reaction when three Cerebus heads say three different things all at the same time.

"You! Shall! Not! Pass!" Paul declares. He chuckles. "I always wanted to say that."

"Nerd," Winnie ribs him gently.

"Aw, c'mon," Blaise says. "Please? Just let us by?"

"No!" Kevin declares. "And there's nothing you can do to change our minds!"

"Are you sure?" Ron asks. "There's nothing we can do?"

"Nothing at all?" Draco adds.

Hermione glares at them. "What do you care? You're not even part of this group!"

"Well, they kind of are now," Blaise points out. Hermione turns her glare on him, and he puts his hands up defensively. "I'm just saying!"

"Well..." Winnie drawls.

"Oh no," Kevin says.

"I suppose there is one thing..." Winnie continues.

"No no no," Kevin dissuades her.

"I mean, if you think you can.. ." Winnie continues.

"No!" Kevin says. "No! No! NO!"

"It's part of the Cerebus code, Kevin!" Winnie protests. "If they do it, we have to fulfill their request!"

"But that doesn't mean you have to tell them about it!" Kevin complains.

"Tell us about what?" Millicent asks.

"Well, you see–" Winnie starts.

"C'mon, Winnie!" Paul whines. "I did the You Shall Not Pass thing and everything!"

"Well then you're just going to have to un-do it," Winnie says. She draws herself up, attempting to look more regal than her two compatriots. "If any of you can dazzle us with an amazing display of skill, we'll fulfill any request. Even if it means you want to go down in the basement."

"The basement?" Draco blurts out. "I don't wanna go down to the basement!"

Blaise doesn't look at him. He just nods at the Cerberus.

"Fine. Give us a moment?"

"Take your time," Paul says.

And with that, they lie down and rest their heads on their paws.

"Alright!" Blaise calls to everyone there. "Huddle up!"

Amazingly, everyone obeys him, even Professor Squirrel.

"Okay," Blaise says. "Does anyone have some special skill that they're really good at?"

"I can jack a car!" Professor Squirrel pipes up.

Everyone stares at him. Blaise's mouth opens and closes a few times.

"Okay," Blaise says as calmly as he can manage. "Leaving aside the fact that that's not really a skill you want to brag about, there aren't any cars here for you to jack."

"Oh," Professor Squirrel says. "Well, uh, maybe I could get one, and bring it here, and then show them my carjacking skills!"

"...how would you even fit it in the door?" Hermione asks, flabbergasted.

"I don't think that's really the big issue here," Blaise points out.

"Maybe it's not the issue, but it's an issue!" Hermione complains. "It's an issue!"

"What if I turned it on its side?" Professor Squirrel asks. "Maybe then it could fit?"

"...and now I'm wondering how you would get it on its side," Blaise says. He shakes his head. "Why are we still discussing this?"

"Well, maybe I could–"

"Forget it!" Millicent interrupts. "He's out of the question. Hermione, you're out–"

"Wait, why?" Hermione interrupts.

Millicent levels her with an unimpressed stare. "You maybe the smartest person at this school, but your skills are more academic, less...what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Performative?" Hermione guesses.

"Exactly," Millicent says. "And you knowing that just proves my point. Draco?"

Draco crosses his arms smugly. "I'm rich."

"That's not a skill, that's an attribute," Millicent says. "How about you, Ron?"

"I can play chess," Ron says.

"Are there any chessboards around here?" Millicent asks.

Ron's face falls. "No."

"Crap," Millicent says. "Fine. Crabbe, Goyle...yeah, no. Blaise?"

"My thing's table hockey," Blaise says. "You should know that, with how frequently we've played."

"Wait wait wait," Ron interrupts. "When the hell have you two played table hockey?"

Blaise rolls his eyes. "Like all the time. There's a table in the Hufflepuff common room."

"They let you into the Hufflepuff common room?" Ron and Draco both blurt out.

Millicent looks at them oddly. "Uh, yeah?"

"But we're not allowed in each other's common rooms!" Draco and Ron say, shocked.

"Uh, yeah we are," Blaise says.

"That's totally allowed," Daphne agrees.

"You seriously didn't know that?" Neville asks.

Ron and Draco just gape at their compatriots.

"Moving on!" Millicent says. "Neville?"

"I can lay down a sick rap track," Neville says.

Millicent squeezes her eyes shut. "Thank you, next."

She is met with a stone wall of silence. Or rather a silent wall of silence. Silence is not made of stone, and can't form walls anyway. So it's just a silent of silence.

"...you're the only one of us left," Hermione points out gently.

Millicent takes a deep breath. "Fine."

She turns back to face the Cerberus. "I'm ready."

The Cerberus sits up.

"Great!" Winnie chirps. "Show us what you're made of!"

Millicent begins hamboning.

She hambones to the north. She hambones to the south. She hambones with her feet. She hambones with her mouth. She hambones with her knees. She hambones with her hands. She hambones with her head. She hambones with her glands. She hambones with the wind. She hambones with the dirt. She hambones with the rain. She hambones till it hurts. She hambones like a master. She hambones with great skill. She hambones like a hero. Her hamboning can kill. She hambones with her kidneys. She hambones with her toes. She hambones with her elbows. She hambones with her nose. She hambones for the future. She hambones for the past. She hambones for the present. She hambones with a blast.

And when she finishes hamboning, the Cerberus simply shifts backwards, allowing the group passage to the trapdoor.

"You're welcome," Millicent says smugly.

"Wait wait wait," Professor Squirrel says. "You're going down into that hole?"

"Yes," Hermione says flatly.

Professor Squirrel shrugs. "Okey-doke."

He walks over to the trapdoor, pulls it open, and leaps inside. He lands a few seconds later with a wet squelch.

"Hey guys!" he calls up. "C'mon down! It's soft and warm and inviting!"

The first-years look at each other and shrug.

"Like a pussy!" Squirrel adds.

Suddenly, everyone else in the room is a lot less inclined to jump.

"And it's tight!" Squirrel calls up. "Like a pussy!"

The students stare at each other.

"Okay, are we sure we want to go through with this?" Millicent asks.

"A few hours ago I would have said yes," Blaise says. "Now I'm reconsidering."

"So am I," Hermione says. "I mean, on the one hand I really want to know what's up with this place. But on the other hand..."

"Well, it's our last chance to turn back," Millicent points out. "If we go down there, we might not have a way back up."

"What if there's a ladder?" Draco suggests.

"Yeah," Ron says. "There's gotta be a ladder down there so we can climb back out."

Daphne looks at them quizzically. "Why would they leave us a ladder to get out?"

"Because if they didn't, that'd be a major safety violation," Ron says. "Duh!"

Daphne stares straight ahead. "That's either a good point, or a stupid point."

"Maybe it's both," Blaise says. "A stupid point, but a good one."

"Hey!" Ron and Draco both complain. "We're not stupid!"

"Look," Neville interrupts. "I'm going."

And with that, Neville walks over to the trapdoor and drops down. He also lands with a squelch. Predictably, Vince and Greg follow him, and soon everybody else has dropped down into the unknown.

"Okay," Daphne says flatly. "I now understand why Squirrel didn't say what anything looked like."

"And why he said it was tight," Millicent adds.

"And now we're all going to die," Blaise says, annoyed.

"...is it too much to say that I hate Professor Squirrel?" Hermione asks.

"No," everyone but the professor agrees.

"Now that's not fair!" Professor Squirrel protests. "How was I supposed to know we'd be eaten by a plant?"

"Wait," Neville says. "This is a plant?"

"Uh, yeah," Squirrel says. "What'd you think it was?"

"I know how to deal with this," Neville says confidently. "BURNING HANDS!"

Neville lays his hands on the plant, and it begins to smoke before bursting into flames. Soon, the plant has burned to a dried husk, and the room is filled with smoke. The group stumbles out the exit, coughing and choking, and collapses on the floor of the next room.

"How–" Hermione finally chokes out. "How did you know that would work?"

Neville snaps his fingers, and the floating disembodied holographic head of Snoop Dogg appears.

"Smoke weed every day," the floating head and Neville intone.

"I smoke rocks," Squirrel says unhelpfully.

Millicent stares at him. "That explains so much."

"Okay," Blaise says, heaving himself to his feet. "Where the hell are we?"

The group is in a large room, cluttered with mannequins, paintings, rubber sculptures, and cheap plastic submarines. On the walls of the room, strange films are playing, the images canted and overlapping each other before abruptly cutting to other films at random moments. A goat's eyeball rots in fast motion in one; in another, a hummingbird is born, grows to an adult, then shrinks into being a chick before returning to the egg.

"...I think it's a junkyard," Draco ventures.

Ron shakes his head. "No. My brother runs one of those, and it looks nothing like this."

"Well who says all junkyards have to look the same?" Blaise asks. "Maybe this is just one of those weird junkyards."

Hermione glares at him. "Are you disagreeing because you honestly think that, or because you find it amusing?"

"Socratic method," Blaise shoots back.

"Socrates was a dickhead," Millicent says flatly.

"Millicent, you wound me," Blaise says. "Are you accusing me of being a dickhead?"

"Yes," Millicent says flatly.

"Haven't you heard?" Blaise asks. "Being a dickhead is cool."

"Is that your way of arguing you're not a dickhead?" Hermione asks. "Because that is a novel tactic."

"And now you're teaming up on me?" Blaise complains. "I thought you were my friends!"

"You can think?" Millicent asks. "I thought you just went through set routines. Like some sort of human automaton."

"Please," Hermione scoffs. "Robots are cool."

"...oh. My. God," Blaise says slowly. "Could we please get back on topic? Seriously, what is this place?"

"It's an art gallery," Daphne says.

Everybody turns to stare at her, except for Crabbe and Goyle, who are transfixed by .

"...what?" Ron finally asks.

"The ones we've been through so far have been made by the professors," Daphne explains. "The Cerberus obviously belonged to Hagrid, the plant to Sprout, and this place was clearly designed by Man Ray."

"Okay, that makes sense," Draco admits. "But how do we get out?"

"Well, Man Ray was a Dada artist, which means his works thrived on chaos, incomprehensibility, and outright nonsense," Daphne says. "Therefore, the exit can only be in the least likely place. Therefore, I'd suggest that we try the door under the exit sign first."

Everybody else looks where she's pointing and sees a clearly marked exit door at the end of the room.

"...how did we miss that?" Hermione asks, baffled.

Daphne smirks. "Everyone knows to properly appreciate art, you must see without looking. But since we were all so preoccupied with that, we forgot to look without seeing, which is necessary for finding the exit."

The rest of the group follows her in silence into the next room, which is completely dark until everyone arrives at it. At that point, the door slams shut behind them and intensely bright fluorescent lights flash on. When the group finally manages to blink the spots away from their eyes, they come upon a terrifying sight:

The troll from Halloween.

"Well, well, well," the troll says in a sickening voice. "Look what we have here!"

"Okay," Blaise hisses. "Does anyone have any ideas for how we can get through this?"

"Stand aside!" Draco says proudly as he strides to the front of the group. "For I know how to defeat this monster!"

"Oh really, blondie?" the troll asks scornfully. "The only think you've ever defeated is a tube of hair gel."

Draco simply smirks and pulls out his wallet. "You're forgetting something important, troll?"

"Oh?" the troll asks indulgently. "And what's that?"

Draco pulls out several hundred-dollar bills. "I'm rich, bitch."

The troll scowls as he looks at the bills before taking them and stomping off into a corner of the room.

Hermione stares at him, flabbergasted. "HOW DID THAT WORK?"

Neville looks surprised. "You mean you don't know about the toll?"

"What toll?" Hermione asks.

"The troll toll," Blaise says.

"Yeah," Vince says. "Everyone knows about the troll toll."

"What's the troll toll?" Hermione asks.

"It's the toll you pay to trolls," Greg says.

"Seriously, you've got the highest grade in every class," Daphne adds. "How'd you never come across the troll toll?"

Hermione glares.

"Don't feel bad," Professor Squirrel interjects. "I didn't know about the troll toll either."

Millicent nods. "Somehow that's not surprising."

"Okay, but, what is the troll toll?" Hermione asks. "I mean, how does it work? And what do trolls need with money anyway?"

"Everybody needs money," Millicent scoffs.

Blaise nods sagely. "Money changes everything."

"Money makes the world go round," Draco adds.

"We could all use a little more cash," Ron agrees.

"I like money," Greg says.

"No I like money!" Vince says.

"I do!"

"I do!"

"I do!"

"I do!"

"Who do?"

"You do!"

"I do what?"

"Remind me of the babe."

"What babe?"

"The one with the power."

"What power?"

"The power of voodoo."

"Who do?"

"You do."

"I do what?"

"Remind me of the babe."

"What babe?"

"The one with the power."

"What power?"

"The power of voodoo."

"Who do?"

"You do."

"I do what?"

"Remind me of the babe."

"What babe?"

"OKAY!" Daphne interrupts. "Enough! What were we even talking about?"

"Straight cash homie," Neville says.

"No," Hermione says. "I just wanted to know how the troll toll works."

Ron gives her a patronizing look. "Well then, allow us to explain."

Draco cuts in. "You've got to pay the troll toll to get into that boy's hole. You've gotta pay the troll toll to get in."

"You want the baby boy's hole, you gotta pay the troll toll," Ron adds. "You gotta pay the troll toll to get in."

Hermione's face wrinkles up. "Baby boy's hole?"

"It's a metaphor," Blaise explains.

"For what?" Hermione asks, flabbergasted.

"Pedophilia," Blaise says.

Hermione buries her face in her hands and groans. "That's not a metaphor! That's not a metaphor at all!"

"Why is that what disturbs you?" Daphne asks.

Blaise casts her a wry look. "Not familiar with our dynamic, are you?"

"I wasn't even supposed to be here tonight!" Daphne complains.

"Neither was I!" Professor Squirrel adds.

"Neither were they!" Neville says, glaring at Draco and Ron.

"We have as much right to be here as you!" Draco and Ron complain.

"Shouldn't we get through that doorway before another stupid argument breaks out?" Millicent interrupts.

Blaise rolls his eyes. "Millicent, you of all people should know that stupid arguments are going to break out regardless of whether or not we go through holes."

"Do you have to keep referring to it as a hole?" Hermione groans.

"Doors are holes too," Squirrel says, trying to sound wise. The effect is ruined by the fact that it's him. "Doors are holes too."

"NOBODY wants to hear you talk about holes," Neville points out. "NOBODY."

"Or doors, either," Blaise says. "Not after what you did to Filch."

"Wait, what'd he do to Filch?" Vince asks.

"He shat on his doorstep," Daphne says flatly.

"Oh," Greg says. "Why'd he do that?"

"Because he's a turdloaf!" Blaise says angrily. "You know what, Millicent, I'm with you. Let's go."

"Go?" Squirrel asks. "Yeah, I could drop one."

And with that, Professor Squirrel lets his pants fall to his ankles and squats down. This naturally doesn't sit well with the troll, who roars, raises his Little League Louisville Slugger, and charges at the professor. Naturally, everyone else scrambles, except for Greg and Vince, each of whom grab one of the professor's arms and drag him out of the room. As they run, he leaves a trail of watery poops on the floor behind him, a trail that thankfully peters off just before they reach the door and fall through.

The group spends the next minute gasping for air and trying not to have adrenaline-fueled heart attacks–except, of course, for Professor Squirrel.

"Hey, anyone have some TP?" he asks vacantly. "I need TP for my bunghole."

"What you need–" Hermione says, eyes on fire but breath still ragged, "–is to DIE."

Squirrel scratches his chest absentmindedly. "That's rude."

"YOU CRAPPED ON THE FLOOR!" Hermione explodes. "YOU CRAPPED ON THE FLOOR AND MADE US RUN FOR OUR LIVES FROM A TROLL DRACO ALREADY PAID OFF, YOU'VE APPARENTLY BEEN BULLYING FILCH ALL YEAR, AND YOU'RE A HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, HOR-RI-BLE TEACHER! I'VE LEARNED MORE DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS FROM THE BACK OF A BOX OF HONEY NUT CHEERIOS THIS YEAR THAN I DID FROM YOU! YOU'RE SO INCOMPETENT, YOU CAN'T EVEN DO A ROLL CALL CORRECTLY! YOU HAVE WASTED TWO HOURS A DAY, TWO DAYS A WEEK, EVERY WEEK, THIS WHOLE YEAR! I'VE SPENT EVERY CLASS WITH YOU READING FAULKNER, BECAUSE EVEN WITH HIS INABILITY TO STATE A THOUGHT CLEARLY, PLAINLY, OR CONCISELY, HE'S STILL A HELL OF A LOT MORE INTERESTING AND INFORMATIVE THAN YOU ARE! I'VE READ MOBY DICK, AND SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT THEM, AT LEAST THE HUNDREDS OF PAGES WHERE MELVILLE RAMBLES ABOUT THE PROPER WAY TO TIE A SAIL TELL YOU HOW! TO TIE! A SAIL! YOU COULDN'T TIE UP A PHONE LINE! YOU COULDN'T TIE A KNOT! YOU COULDN'T EVEN TIE A TIE! AND THAT'S THE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS! YOU FAIL SO UTTERLY, SO COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY, SO MAGNIFICENTLY, THAT YOU ARE EASILY THE WORST! TEACHER! I HAVE EVER! HAD! THE DISPLEASURE! OF HAVING TO DEAL WITH! AND THAT INCLUDES THE WOMAN WHO THOUGHT THAT BULLYING WAS THE FAULT OF THE BULLIED! AT LEAST SHE DIDN'T DROP HER PANTS IN FRONT OF ME!"

Greg and Vince start laughing. Hermione whirls around to look at them.

"And what," she asks viciously, "is so funny?"

Vince points at Squirrel. "He turded!"

"On Filch's door!" Greg adds.

This brings Hermione's rage up short. "Did it really take you two until now to realize that?"

Daphne sighs. "Yes. It did."

Hermione blinks a couple times. "My god. They really are stupid."

"Try sharing a dorm with them," Daphne says bitterly.

Hermione nods. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," Daphne says. "So what's all this?"

In front of them is a large chessboard. The side they're on has the black pieces, and the other side has the white pieces.

"Well, Draco," Ron says proudly, "stand aside. You may have the money to take care of trolls, but chess is my game."

"Wait, really?" Daphne asks. "You can play chess?"

"Yes," Ron says defensively.

Daphne shrugs. "Fine. Go ahead."

Ron steps up to the board and clears his throat. "I'm ready."

None of the pieces move.

"Go?" he guesses. "Start? Play? Begin?"

Neville groans. "This is one of those games where we all have to take the place of a piece, isn't it?"

Everyone looks at him oddly.

"How do you figure that?" Hermione asks.

"It would be annoying," Neville says. "And this whole course is nothing if not annoying."

Blaise shrugs. "He makes a good point."

"Fine," Hermione huffs. "We'll all take a spot. But I call queen."

"Yas queen," Blaise draws.

Hermione flips him off.

"Fine, but I have to be king," Ron says. "It offers the best vantage point."

"You just don't want to get your ass pounded," Draco says.

Ron glares at him. "And where are you going?"

"I'll be your closest advisor," Draco says. "The pointy-headed guy over there."

"Bishop, Draco," Hermione sighs. "It's called a bishop."

"I'll take the other bishop," Daphne says. "You could use some sanity nearby."

"Alright," Ron says with a nod. "Crabbe, Goyle, take the pawns on the edge of the board."

"Why pawns?" Neville asks indignantly.

"Would you trust them with a more powerful position?" Ron asks.

Neville shrugs. "Fair point. I call rook."

"I'll take the other rook then," Millicent says.

"And as for Professor Squirrel," Ron says. He grins wickedly. "You take the pawn in front of the king."

"What about me?" Blaise asks.

"Knight," Ron says. "Either side. I don't really care which."

Everyone takes their places. Ron takes a deep breath, looks at the board, and then nods.

The game starts with the seventh pawn moving forward two spaces.

Ron grins. "Pawn to e5."

Nothing happens.

"I said, pawn to e5!" Ron repeats.

Once again, nothing happens.

Ron growls. "Squirrel! Move forward two spaces!"

"Oh," Squirrel says, absentmindedly scratching his neck. "Right."

Squirrel moves to the appointed place then stops. "Now what?"

"Stay there!" Ron barks.

The kingside bishop's pawn moves forward to confront Squirrel.

Ron stares at the board, confounded.

"No," he breathes. "It can't possibly be this easy."

"What?" Hermione asks. "What is it?"

Ron's brow furrows. "Just hold on a minute."

They have to hold on for several minutes as Ron stares at the board before shaking his head.

"Queen to h4," he says.

Hermione looks at him, confused. "What?"

"Just–just move diagonally to the edge of the board," Ron says. He shakes his head. "It can't be this easy."

Hermione does as requested, and the checkmate is complete.

The chess pieces all shuffle to the sides of the board, and the group of 10 is allowed to walk through unhindered. They enter a room that has several bottles sitting on a shelf side-by-side, a door made of white flames, and nothing else.

"...okay what," Blaise says flatly.

"There's a note," Millicent points out.

Hermione snatches it up.

"If you really think you're getting through here, you're a complete dunderhead," she reads. "Sincerely, S. Snape."