Chapter Sixteen

Percy

They stood in front of a large wooden door, and Percy again drew Riptide. It opened to reveal a chamber with a high ceiling, filled with what looked like little birds.

"They're keys!" Said Hermione, and Harry hurriedly picked up a broom from the rack. He took to the air, and soon returned with an old looking key with a crumpled wing. This unlocked the next door, and Percy was less than pleased.

"Wizard chess."breathed Ron. "Looks like we'll have to play our way across." He took the position of one of the black nights, Hermione was a bishop, Percy a rook, and Harry the other knight.

"I suck at chess, and Hermione's too reckless. You're in charge, Ron." Ron nodded, and stood a little straighter.

"Pawn to E-4." The pawn walked forward with heavy steps. Another pawn on the other side moved forward as well.

The game continued, and when Ron took one of the white team's pawns they all paled. It was shattered into pieces.

Ron was doing a wonderful job of keeping his cool. Percy knew how hard it was to hold someone else's fate in your hands, and reassured him where he could.

"You've got this, Ron!" Ron was looking particularly pale, and he appeared to steel himself.

"Uh-uh. I know that look. You're not doing any noble self sacrifice on my watch. " Eon bit his lip, and started to explain.

"If I let the enemy queen take me, Harry takes the queen. Then it's checkmate." Percy and Hermione began to protest, but Ron yelled his command

. "Knight to D-7." He strode forward confidently, and the enemy queen moved when he stopped. She gave him a single punch, and dragged his unconscious self off the board. Harry moved to touch the queen, and she exploded. The king threw his crown to his feet, and the pieces left the board.

The remaining three looked more determined than before, promising to return for Ron. They entered the next room, where two trolls immediately charged at them.

Percy leaped forward, his sword flashing. The left one disappeared with a puff of dust, and the right one landed a punch to Percy's ribs. Standing, he whirled forward again, leaping to behead it. The head remained as the rest vanished. Percy took his flask from his side and took a few sips of nectar. The broken ribs he knew he had began to ache less, and mend. He kicked the head, making Hermione yelp.

"Those are some nasty spoils of war, a pair of troll underwear and a head. I am not keeping them. Let's go." Harry gave him a clap on the back, I forgot he was a crazy Brit for a while, and Percy gave a small yelp. Aeto, who had been following this whole time, jumped into his master's arms.

The hellhound began to heartily lick his face, and Percy placed him back on the floor. They opened the door to the next room, and it filled with purple fire when the door closed. A table had potions in a neat row, and a piece of parchment laid in the middle. Hermione took it, and read aloud the riddle. Percy was terrible with riddles, so he and Harry let her solve it.

"This one lets us out, and this one lets us go forward. There's only enough for one person, though. She stopped when Percy began to talk to Aeto.

"Aeto, are you up for some shadow-travel?" The puppy gave a small twirl, and barked.

"Guess that solves that. Aeto is only able to carry one of us, and one can use the potion. I gotta warn you, shadow-travel is considered Dark magic and is extremely uncomfortable." Harry and Hermione agreed that Percy would go with Aeto, Harry would use the potion, and Hermione would go back for Ron.

Percy picked up Aeto, and stepped into one of the darker corners of the room. He melted into the shadows as Harry drank the potion in one gulp. Percy felt the rushing cold sensation of shadow-travel, and was a little unsteady when they popped out on the other side. Percy gently set Aeto in his hood, and the little dog breathed contentedly next to his ear.

Harry walked through the flames, and together they went forward. Professor Quirrell stood in front of a mirror before them, familiar onion head shaking.

"AHA! Ron owes me five Galleons!" Percy shouted, and Quirrell whipped around.

"Although maybe I should let him off because he did get punched for this."

"What are you two brats doing here?" Quirrell said, his calm lack of stutter unnerving. Ignoring their response, he turned back to the mirror. Another voice hissed across the room, and Harry clutched his head.

"The boy… have the boy look." Quirrell turned his wand on Harry, and Percy deflected the beam of light with his sword.

Leaping forward, he managed to get a cut in before being forced back. Harry went up to the mirror, and the concentration and determination he wore told Percy he knew what he was doing.

"The boy! He has it!" Quirrell whipped towards Harry, and Percy gave chase. Percy grabbed at him, and his turban came off. What he saw had him standing still in shock.

A foul face, noseless with red eyes, was on the back of his head. Percy shook himself out of his stupor when Quirrell's hands touched Harry. Quirrell let out a scream, his hands blistering

. "My Lord, it hurts!" He said. To which the awful face spoke in a hissing voice.

"Pain is of no consequence! Take the stone, I will reward you greatly!"

Harry was nearly unconscious, and Percy slashed with his sword. Quirrell turned to face him, and Harry probably saw the face. Harry gasped in horror, but Percy managed to slash Quirrell across his chest. Instead of blood, foul grayish mud bled from the cut. Percy hit him with the pommel of his sword, and he was down for the count.

Percy undid his shoelaces and used them to tie Quirrell's hands and feet, and pocketed his wand.

Percy helped Harry to his feet, and handed him a bottle of Gatorade.

"Godsdamn it. I'm starting to be as bad as Coach, a Gatorade dispenser." Harry laughed as he drank the red liquid. Percy took a small blue wrapped ambrosia square from his pocket, and ate it. As the chocolate chip cookie taste faded, as did his cuts and burns. His ribs were still sore, but better.

Dumbledore whirled into the room just as Percy stabbed the Stone with his sword. It shattered, and crumbled to dust.

"Good riddance. Why didn't you just break the gods accursed thing to begin with?" Percy said to Dumbledore, sheathing his sword.

"You wizards don't have any common sense."