fanalis1995: Hello, and thank you for your review. I'm so grateful to hear you're enjoying it. Yes, unbeatable super wizards just aren't realistic in a sense. Alexander definitely has his flaws and shortcomings as well as his skills and strengths. He will influence in minor ways but the same major, essential plotlines will still remain. Thank you for reading.
I contemplated having this as two chapters instead of a long one but felt that it worked better together. So, apologies for its length if you don't like that sort of thing. I hope you enjoy it.
The next day, Harry showed Alexander, Hermione, and Ron his recovered Invisibility Cloak. Someone allegedly had placed it on Harry's bed last night with a note that said: Just in Case. None of them had any clue who could have sent the Cloak back to Harry. Alexander suggested that it was very likely the same person who sent the Cloak in the first place. Who, however, was yet to be uncovered. The Cloak lay untouched in Harry's trunk for at least a couple of weeks. None of the group had a chance to use it again because exams had crept upon the first-years.
For Alexander, there was no chance to consider anything except studying and exams. Much of his time was spent in the library, scouring through textbooks, remembering last-minute details for spells and recipes; stirring clockwise, adding porcupine quills for the finishing touch, flicking the wrist instead of poking. His stomach was balled up with apprehension in anticipating the first test.
Hermione's hair became bushier when her stress levels rose and she'd murmur answers to herself, much to Ron's disgruntlement. The redhead was much more relaxed than anyone should be when it came to exams, in his opinion, but Alexander wasn't somebody to nag, unlike Hermione. Harry's eyes glazed over whenever he read over his notes as if his mind were not truly focused on it. Harry appeared on high-alert constantly and snapped to attention so much as if a door slammed audibly. Alexander couldn't blame him. He'd act the same way if he had a deranged psychopath after him as well; he half-expected Voldemort to burst through the door at any moment, wielding his wand out at Harry, but Alexander would be ready with his own wand, keen to defend his friend. Yet, the days crept by, and Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door and no Voldemorts appeared out of thin air.
The days of the exams were sweltering hot and the sun's rays were at full blast. It was ironic – and slightly cruel according to the majority of the students in the castle who grumbled and moaned to each other and teachers each chance they received – that the few summer days the UK had were spent inside instead of soaking up the warmth. People longed to sprawl out on the grassy areas or take food outside from the Great Hall for picnics but, rather, were bogged down by the imminent tests.
Alexander did not fully mind missing the warm weather as winter was more his season. He found that in the winter he could at least manage his temperature easily by adding layers of clothing or sitting in front of the great fire in the common room. But in the summer, it seemed that no matter how many layers he removed through robes, jumpers, or unbuttoning his collar shirt, he still felt sweaty. It'd probably be simpler to completely remove his top, but Alexander didn't fancy walking around without a shirt on because of the slight discomfort he'd feel if everyone's eyes' were on his bare chest. Besides, he'd probably get into trouble by Filch or Professor McGonagall.
The classrooms in which they undertook their written papers were boiling. Alexander's skin glistened and the nape of his neck was damp. The first-years were given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. The classrooms were quiet as quills scratched against parchment and then came the occasional flicking of paper. The desks were distanced from each other so each student had a table. Alexander's desk was located near the middle because the assigned desks were alphabetically designated. Neville was behind him and the boy's nerves were visibly displayed to those who sat around him.
To Alexander's pleasant surprise, the questions weren't as difficult as he first assumed. His Charms' written exam was a breeze, and he must have been the first person to finish because when he placed his quill down and glanced up, the other Gryffindors were still writing. Transfiguration's written exam was more complicated as envisioned and there were two or three questions that he wasn't completely sure was right, but he completed enough to get a good mark.
Alexander wished Astronomy could have been first to get it over with. He trudged up the Astronomy tower, nerves bubbling in his stomach at the worry that he'd fail. Hermione cast him an encouraging smile and assured that he'd do fine. Taking a deep breath, Alexander's mind moderately cleared; he felt much more at ease when he picked up the special quill. The exam involved the use of a telescope where they had to map the planets and stars, then label the findings on the chart. This reminded him of his Physics lessons in school where they'd learn about the planets and he was never good at science anyways. At times, Alexander felt like he was doing it wrong, yet surprisingly, he discovered that he knew more than he presumed. Hermione's extra help had paid off, and as he persisted, the end of the exam arrived. He finished the paper with a small smile, satisfied that he had done the best he could. A weight lifted off his shoulders as his most feared subject came to an end – for now at least – and a soft relieved laugh escaped his lips as he descended the steps.
They had practical exams as well because this was a magic school after all. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Flitwick beamed at him as he pointed his wand at the object and recited in a clear and confident voice, 'Tarantallegra'; a red glow emitted which caused the pineapple to jiggle up, down, and across the desk. Flitwick clapped at the demonstration.
'You wouldn't mind demonstrating a few other spells, would you, Mr Laurent?' proposed the short Professor, 'it would be a fantastic way to earn extra marks, of course.'
Alexander had no problem with this and felt rather pleased with his proficient display of spells. 'Sure, Professor – what would you like me to do?'
'If you would be so kind as to show the Levitation Charm, the Ice Jinx, and the Engorgio Charm to finish off with.'
They were spells Alexander had practised with Flitwick during their tutoring sessions. The pineapple lifted into the air with the Levitation charm; a small block of ice appeared on the desk with the second charm, and the object enlarged with Engorgio. Alexander felt pride erupt as he accomplished the spells and couldn't help the proud grin from appearing nor the puffing out of his chest.
'Oh, bravo, Mr Laurent,' cheered Professor Flitwick, scribbling on his clipboard, 'you may send Mr Weasley in next after you leave.'
Professor McGonagall watched him turn a mouse into a snuffbox. He visualised a gold snuffbox, one he had seen when he accompanied his Grandfather to a Baron's estate, and his mouse turned into a small, curved snuffbox. Thankfully, his one did not have whiskers, yet he tried to make it noticeably shiny, and his spirits dampened when he couldn't achieve that particular aspect. Professor McGonagall, however, felt that it was perfectly adequate and nodded curtly in his direction.
Snape was a pain when it came to Potions by breathing down their necks while they made a Forgetfulness Potion. Alexander wished for a Cure for Boils Potion instead, which was more doable, but Snape had to be a greasy bastard and chose not to do it. He almost added three mistletoe berries instead of the required four but remembered just as he was about to add the crushed mixture. Harry was distracted easily, and from the corner of Alexander's eye, he saw that Harry was focused on a spot on his cauldron, rather than stirring. Snape noticed as well and had to forcefully nudge Harry as he went around the dingy classroom.
The first-years' last exam was History of Magic, purely a written paper. It was one hour of answering questions about old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and Emeric the Evil. After this, they'd be free for a whole relaxing week of freedom until their exam results came out. History of Magic was almost as bad as Astronomy for Alexander but not because of the context. He wrote sufficiently to ensure that he would pass the subject at least. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Alexander cheered joyfully with the rest of the Gryffindors. It was over. For their other problems, however, it was just beginning and was about to get a whole lot worse.
Alexander was so busy studying the previous weeks that he did not have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to. Most of the other boys in their dormitories thought that Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because he couldn't sleep, but Alexander and Ron knew better. Harry whimpered in his sleep and kept shuffling every few minutes which made him guess that Harry was having a nightmare. It must have been about Voldemort, because who else was it but the old psychopath? He may not have seen whatever it was that Harry saw in the forest or have scars that burned across his forehead, but Alexander could sense that his friend was troubled, more so than usual, and it was likely about the Stone and Snape.
∞ ϟ 9¾
Alexander joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds with his other three friends after placing his book bag into his trunk. A murmur of excited voices buzzed around him and there was a wave of freedom in the air, judging by the carefree grins and mirthful laughter of the students.
Hermione's breezy voice stated, 'That was far easier than I thought it would be. I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager.' Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterwards, which Alexander didn't mind because it meant they could compare answers.
'Yeah, I know, Dieu merci the Werewolf Code of Conduct didn't come up because I don't know enough about that topic,' shrugged Alexander, 'but Emeric the Evil did come up.'
'I hope it was the South of England he terrorised,' Hermione chewed her lip nervously, 'because that's what I put down. I don't know if the specific places were necessary. . .'
'It should be the South, I mean it's what I put down on my paper.' He threw a teasing grin. 'I didn't add the specific places, though.'
'Okay, good,' sighed Hermione, 'what did you put for —'
Ron groaned aloud before she could finish. 'Can we please stop talking about exams? You two are making me feel ill. It's done my head in for the past two weeks and the last thing I want to talk about is more work.'
'Alright, fine.' Hermione didn't look happy but acquiesced to Ron's request.
They had wandered down to the lake, whose dark waters glimmered unnervingly, and flopped under a tree. Alexander stretched his body and flexed both his hands, feeling all the tension melt away. Being ambidextrous was beneficial in the way that he could switch to the other hand during the exams when his muscles became too stiff.
'Ahhh,' relaxed Ron with a lazy grin, 'no more studying.'
'A whole week to ourselves,' said Alexander, back against the tree with his legs spread out in front of him. He and Ron shared a mutual half-smile.
Under half-lidded eyes which drooped with sleep, Alexander watched as the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan tickled the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. The ends of the tentacles looked slimy and curved. He didn't have any energy to join them. Fred and George waved with mischievous leers. Alexander lazily raised two fingers in greeting.
Ron sighed contentedly, spreading his lanky limbs out on the grass. 'You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet.'
While everyone else appeared as blissful as kittens in a yarn shop, Harry Potter, meanwhile, seemed on edge as he had been for the past few weeks. Alexander turned his head to gaze with a slight worry at his friend. He doubted it was the exam results that Harry was so concerned about.
Harry was rubbing his forehead. 'I wish I knew what this means!' he burst out angrily.
'It's your scar that's hurting, isn't it?' inquired Alexander knowingly.
'It's happened before, but never as often as this.' Harry kneaded furiously with his palm.
'Harry, you need to do something about it,' Alexander rose to a sitting position, back still perched against the tree, 'it's obviously bothering you.'
'Go to Madam Pomfrey,' Hermione recommended.
'I'm not ill,' responded Harry in a peevish tone.
'No, but you're hurting,' Alexander pointed out, 'and that's just a good enough reason.'
'No, it's something else. I think it's a warning – it means danger's coming. . .'
Ron could not get worked up, it was too hot for it. His expression was one of tranquillity when he turned his head. 'Harry, relax. Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.'
'Yeah, but Hagrid's not exactly reliable,' said Alexander, raising a hand to block the blinding glare from his eyes, wishing he had his sunglasses with him.
'Dumbledore trusts him, and Hagrid is loyal to Dumbledore,' said Ron resolutely, 'I'm telling you, that Stone is safe as long as Dumbledore's Headmaster.'
Alexander nodded, feeling too sluggish to even conceive a refute. Harry hesitantly accepted this, yet the chewing of his lip and furrowed brows indicated that Harry couldn't shake off his lurking unease.
'Look, there's this weird feeling I have,' revealed Harry, 'like – like I've forgotten to do something. . . something important.'
'Important? Like what?' questioned Alexander in a curious tone.
'I don't know, that's the thing, but it's still there.'
Hermione gave a logical suggestion, 'That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one.'
'Absolutely mental, I'm telling you,' muttered Ron with a snort of laughter. Hermione wasn't happy with his comment that she overheard, and Alexander chuckled lightly as his two friends commenced their bickering, though it was mostly Hermione snapping at Ron while the redhead shook off her remarks.
Alexander turned his gaze skywards, to that vivid blue sky. His hands tugged at the threads of the silky, green grass. An owl fluttered towards the school, a note clamped in its mouth. He should go and visit Apollo now that his studying was over. The owl barely sent letters to Eliot for the past few weeks, because Eliot mentioned that Alexander should be concentrating more on his work than sending letters. Apollo would appreciate his visit and he could bring owl treats as well.
All of a sudden, Harry jumped to his feet, alarming the three of them and clearing the haze of half-slumber from Alexander. He caught Hermione and Ron's startled look and the three of them dashed after Harry, who was speeding across the grassy grounds.
'Harry, where are you going?' asked Alexander, catching sight of Harry's ghastly white features.
'I've just thought of something,' said Harry, rather feverishly. His tone was apprehensive which caused Alexander to sharpen his attention. 'We've got to go and see Hagrid, now.'
'Why?' panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.
'Don't you think it's a bit odd,' explained Harry, scrambling up the verdant slope, 'that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket?'
'Harry, what are you going on about?' huffed Alexander, 'Norbert's gone already.'
Harry turned his head to the side, while panting heavily, to throw a look at him. 'You still don't understand, Alexander? How could we have missed it? It's so obvious.'
'Missed what?' demanded Hermione, her bushy hair flowing behind her as they crossed the grounds.
'How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law?' explained Harry, 'lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?'
'What are you talking about?' said Ron, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the forest, didn't answer. Alexander gritted his teeth and followed after his friend. So much for a relaxing week, he thought. Not when one of his best friends was Harry Potter.
Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.
'Hullo,' he greeted, smiling as they rushed towards him, out of breath from the sprint. 'Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?'
'Yes, please,' said Ron, but Harry cut him off.
'No, we're in a hurry.' Alexander frowned at him but didn't say anything. 'Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?'
'Dunno,' replied Hagrid casually, running a hand through his beard as if in thought, 'he wouldn' take his cloak off.'
Alexander, finally realising Harry's train of thought, straightened in alarm at Hagrid's remark. He shared a shocked glance with the others, then directed his blue eyes on Hagrid, not wanting to miss a word.
Hagrid raised his eyebrows at their behaviour. 'It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head – that's one o' the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.'
Or a thief thought Alexander. A person who hides their face has something to hide, especially considering that it could have been one of those Dark Wizards he's read about.
Harry sank next to the bowl of peas and closed his eyes.
'What did you talk to him about, Hagrid?' pressed Alexander, in a sober tone, 'did you mention Hogwarts at all?'
'Mighta come up,' shrugged Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. 'Yeah, come to thin' of it, he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after, so I told him.'
'All of them?' Hagrid paused between every sentence as he was likely trying to remember. Alexander wished he'd hurry up because this was important.
'I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon, an' then . . . I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted, but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home. So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy.'
Alexander felt like groaning audibly. This was bad. Alcohol and secrets were a dangerous combination. He'd know because he'd seen Eliot cry once during a dinner party after drinking too much wine.
Harry almost looked afraid to ask the next question. 'And did he – did he seem interested in Fluffy?' Harry was trying to keep his voice calm.
'Well – yeah – how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep —'
Alexander dug his nails into his palms at Hagrid's revelation. And to think that they'd been relaxing, completely unaware of this.
Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. 'I shouldn'ta told yeh that!' he blurted out. 'Forget I said it! Hey — where're yeh goin'?'
They rose from their seats and shot towards the castle without saying goodbye to Hagrid. He might have felt guilty later, but right now the Stone was the only persisting thought on his mind. The four didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds. Alexander shivered and didn't think it was because of the draught.
'We've got to go to Dumbledore,' stated Harry. 'Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak – it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?'
Alexander paused, frowning as he spun around for a sign that pointed them in the right direction. He knew every place in the castle by now apart from the Headmaster's office. Even Fred and George didn't know where that was and they knew most of the places, better than Filch did anyway. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him. Where is it? It has to be somewhere in the castle.
'We'll just have to —' Alexander began, but a strict voice suddenly rang across the hall.
'What are you four doing inside?' It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.
'We want to see Professor Dumbledore,' stated Hermione, rather bravely, after taking a deep breath. Alexander pursed his lips to stop his smile at her courage, which Professor McGonagall would not appreciate.
The Professor stared down at them from under her curved spectacles and Alexander resisted the urge to squirm. 'See Professor Dumbledore?' she repeated, as though this was a very dubious thing to desire. 'Why?'
Alexander swallowed. Now, what were they supposed to say?
'It's sort of secret,' Harry said hesitantly, shifting on his feet, but it was the wrong thing to say, causing Alexander to slightly grimace. Wrong move, Harry, he thought.
Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. 'Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,' she informed them coldly. 'He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.'
'Of course, he did,' muttered Alexander quietly, shaking his head.
'He's gone?' replied Harry frantically. 'Now?'
'Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time —'
'Professor, this is important,' snapped Alexander, a tad annoyed that no one was taking them seriously.
'Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Laurent?'
His tone was stiff and unyielding, 'Yes.'
'I hardly doubt that. The Ministry has pressing matters that the Headmaster has to attend to. Whatever it is you want to say has to wait.'
'Look,' burst Harry, throwing caution to the winds, 'Professor – it's – it's about the Philosopher's Stone —'
It was the first time that Alexander witnessed Professor McGonagall dumbstruck. Whatever she had expected them to say, it certainly wasn't supposed to be that. The books she carried, tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.
'How do you know — ?' she spluttered.
'That doesn't matter,' dismissed Alexander, with the wave of his hand, 'the Stone is in danger, right at this moment.'
Harry nodded. 'Professor, I think – I know – that Sn – that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.'
She eyed Harry with a mixture of shock and suspicion. 'Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,' she announced finally. 'I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected.'
'But, Professor —'
'Laurent, I know what I'm talking about,' she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. 'I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine.'
Alexander watched with a discouraged heart as she walked off, leaving the four of them to glance at each other as if to say, 'what now?' None of them took her advice to go outside. He ran a hand through his hair. He had been doing that quite often since he came to Hogwarts.
'It's tonight,' assured Harry, staring after the spot Professor McGonagall disappeared to guarantee that she was out of earshot.
Alexander rubbed a hand across his temple. 'Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight, right? He's going to try and get the Stone.'
'He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way,' agreed Harry, nodding vigorously, 'he sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.'
'But what can we —' Hermione gasped.
Alexander hissed at her to be quiet. Harry and Ron wheeled round. Snape was standing there like a death omen, his black robes fluttering around his frame.
'Good afternoon,' Snape said smoothly.
They stared at him. What does the slimy bastard want now? Did he know that they suspected him?
'You shouldn't be inside on a day like this,' continued the Potions Master, with an odd, twisted smile.
'We were —' Harry began, but words failed him and he struggled to maintain a plausible excuse.
'We wanted to get out of the heat,' fibbed Alexander, as Snape's cold, dark eyes bore into his. 'It's too hot.'
'Is that right?' smirked Snape, 'you want to be more careful, hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?'
Alexander clenched his jaw, and Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.
'Be warned, Potter – any more night-time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.' He strode off in the direction of the staffroom, cloak billowing behind him.
'I honestly hate him,' grumbled Alexander, 'such as a connard.' Hermione nudged him with her elbow and he carelessly shrugged.
Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others. 'Right, here's what we've got to do,' he whispered urgently. 'One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape – wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it.'
'Hermione, I think that's a job more suited to you,' said Alexander
'Why me?'
'It's obvious, Snape doesn't exactly like any of us,' pointed out Alexander, 'though maybe it's not as bad as Harry. He tolerates you more than the rest of us, so you're least likely to get into trouble.'
Ron nodded with a smirk. 'You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know.' He shifted to a high voice, 'Oh, Professor Flitwick, sir, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong.' Alexander snorted and tried to cover his laugh by pursing his lips as Hermione glared at Ron.
'Oh, shut up,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.
'And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor,' Harry told Alexander and Ron. 'Come on.'
Unfortunately, their plan was doomed to fail. They made their way up to the third-floor corridor, praying not to run into any Prefect or teacher along the way. Alexander spoke too soon because as they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school, Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.
'I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!' she seethed.
'Professor, we wanted to —' Alexander tried to explain but McGonagall wasn't having it.
'Enough of this nonsense, Laurent! If I hear any of you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own House!'
Clenching his jaw at the unfairness of it all, Alexander walked back angrily to the common with Harry and Ron. Nobody took them seriously because they were just measly first-years.
Harry spoke up, 'At least Hermione's on Snape's tail.'
Alexander and Ron nodded as they sat down on the armchair. He was too worked up to truly sink properly on the comfortable chairs which were providing anything but comfort right now. Come on, Hermione.
Yet, when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, Hermione came in with a despondent expression on her face. Alexander's heart sank. That was it then.
'I'm sorry, Harry!' she wailed. 'Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went.'
'Don't worry, Hermione, you tried your best,' consoled Alexander, trying to rearrange his mouth to a comforting smile, yet he probably didn't do a good job because Hermione remained dejected.
Harry sighed, his face resigned. Alexander gulped nervously as he realised Harry's intention, his fingers gripping the armrests so tight that his knuckles turned white. No way is he doing what I think he's doing.
'Well, that's it then, isn't it?' came Harry's hard tone. He was grey and his eyes were glittering. 'I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first.'
Alexander shut his eyes and covered his face with two hands. Oh, but Harry was.
'You're mad!' exclaimed Ron in an incredulous tone.
'You can't!' cried Hermione. 'After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!'
'So what?' shouted Harry. 'Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see?'
Alexander ogled, astonished, as Harry continued his speech. House points did seem very trivial compared to the bigger picture.
'D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup?' barked Harry. 'If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing any of you can say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?' He glared at them, breathing deeply after his rant.
Alexander felt weary; resignation settled in his body like the Excalibur Sword in the stone. Harry had made up his mind. There was only one path for his friend.
'You're right, Harry,' replied Hermione in a small voice.
'I'll use the Invisibility Cloak,' announced Harry. 'It's just lucky I got it back.'
'But will it cover all four of us?' said Ron.
For some reason, Grandfather's cold, sharp eyes glared at him in his mind, causing his stomach to churn. This is exactly the type of folly that Grandfather warned him about in his letter. Grandfather unmistakably would not be pleased if Alexander went. Nor would Eliot, who would scold him for putting himself in a dangerous situation.
'All – all four of us?' Harry's tone was one of confusion.
'Oh, come off it,' dismissed Ron, 'you don't think we'd let you go alone?'
'Of course not,' proclaimed Hermione briskly. 'How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful, and Alexander knows some helpful spells that could help us along the way.' The three of them turned to glance at him, waiting.
He chewed on his lip. A battle was waging in his brain. Grandfather had warned him and would most certainly punish him, possibly until he turned eighteen. Alexander didn't want to disappoint him again. But Harry's life was on the line. He couldn't just abandon his friend like some heartless person, he'd never forgive himself. Hermione's brown, soulful eyes bore expectantly into his. Harry looked pale but resolute. Alexander would be damned to see one of his best friends go alone.
'There's a few that might help us,' he admitted, and Harry's face slumped in relief. The scarred boy would never disclose it to Alexander, yet Alexander guessed that Harry was grateful. Anyone would be scared to face a psychopath on their own.
'But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too.'
'Yeah, but this way we'll go out in style at least,' shrugged Alexander, downplaying his nerves by resorting to wit.
'Not if I can help it,' refuted Hermione grimly. 'Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that.'
Alexander whistled. 'That's impressive.' Hermione's cheeks turned pinkish and she gave a proud half-smile.
Harry voiced a pressing thought. 'How are we going to calm Fluffy down? He only calms down for music.'
'Sing, maybe,' offered Ron.
Alexander sat up in his seat, a thought occurring to him. 'I can somewhat play the violin,' he confessed, and Harry's eyes turned eagerly onto his.
'Really? Do you have your instrument with you?' Harry asked.
'I do, yeah.' He had forgotten all about his violin after coming to Hogwarts. It sat in his trunk and hadn't been taken out since. He was going to practise but the excitement of learning magic caused him to overlook it.
'I didn't know you played an instrument.' Hermione narrowed her eyes curiously at him.
Alexander shrugged. 'My Grandfather hired a violinist to teach me since I was five. He wanted me to get a fully rounded education and playing a musical instrument was one of them.'
'Well, that's one of our problems solved,' said Harry.
'Dieu, I can't believe the future of this school lies in the hands of four first-years,' said Alexander in pure disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose, 'you know, I highly doubt that safety checks are a high priority here.'
∞ ϟ 9¾
After dinner, the common room was a tense affair for the four first-years. Alexander bounced his feet restlessly on the floor and perched a hand on the side of his face, elbow bent at an angle on the armrest. His eyes kept drifting to the watch that Grandfather sent him for his birthday. Nobody bothered them which Alexander was thankful for the first time in weeks; the Gryffindors' resentment remained active, apart from Fred and George who waved goodnight as they left to go to their dormitories.
Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. They didn't talk much. Alexander thought about what they were about to do. This would break hundreds of school rules. They'd certainly be expelled if they were ever caught. A small fear had settled in his abdomen ever since he agreed to take on this foolhardy task. He prayed Grandfather would never discover but knew it was in vain. Grandfather would find out. He always did.
Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed, yawning from exhaustion. The older students, expectedly, were the last ones to leave, glancing suspiciously at the four first-years who looked too nervous to be tired.
'Better get the Cloak, and Alexander, remember your violin,' Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching.
Harry and Alexander ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He grabbed the sleek, mahogany instrument from its case along with the bow. They were doing the right thing, he internally reassured. There was no backing out now.
They strode down the stairs, Harry right behind him, Cloak in hand, a tad breathless. 'Got it.'
'Right, we'd better put the Cloak on here and make sure it covers all four of us,' said Alexander, legs unsteady after sitting down for hours, 'if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own —' He was cut off by a voice that came from the corner of the room, which caused the four of them to freeze.
'What are you doing?' Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor, his toad, who squirmed out of his grip as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.
'Neville,' breathed Alexander in relief, 'you scared us.'
'Alex, where are you going at this time?' Neville stared at him questioningly, and Alexander avoided looking directly into his friend's eyes, feeling marginally guilty.
'Nothing, Neville, nothing,' answered Harry instead, hurriedly shoving the Cloak behind his back.
Neville stared at their uncomfortable faces. 'You're going out again, aren't you,' he concluded.
'No, no, no,' denied Hermione, waving her hand in circles. 'No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?'
Alexander checked his watch. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might already be facing Fluffy. Harry appeared irritated at the delay.
'You can't go out,' complained Neville, 'you'll be caught again.
'You don't understand,' snapped Harry, 'this is important.'
'Alex, don't do this,' Neville addressed him, his tone anxious yet pleading. 'Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.'
'Neville, we need to go.' Alexander's stomach churned uneasily. 'It's not about us anymore . . .'
But Neville was decidedly steeling himself to do something desperate. 'I won't let you do it,' he declared, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. 'I'll – I'll fight you!'
'Neville,' Ron exploded, 'get away from that hole and don't be an idiot —'
'Don't you call me an idiot! I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!'
Alexander sighed at the turn of events. Any other day he would have been delighted to see Neville standing up for himself but not right now. This has to be the worst timing ever.
'Yes, but not to us,' said Ron in frustration. 'Neville, you don't know what you're doing.' He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.
'Go on, try and hit me!' said Neville, raising his fists. 'I'm ready!'
'Neville, don't do anything stupid,' warned Alexander, 'you're gonna get hurt.'
'No, I won't,' refuted Neville, 'come on, then – try and get past.' Neville's expression was determined.
Harry addressed Hermione. 'Do something,' he urged desperately.
Hermione stepped forward with a wand clutched at her side.
'Woah, what are you —' Alexander interjected, alarmed.
'Neville,' she ploughed on, as if she hadn't heard him, 'I'm really, really sorry about this.' She raised her wand. 'Petrificus Totalus!' she cried, pointing it at Neville. Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body went rigid; he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.
Alexander looked ruefully down at the frozen body of his friend, running a hand across his temple. He was so going to get a headache after this. The Body-Bind spell. It was rather effective, of course. He just wished the circumstances were different.
Hermione ran to turn Neville over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, staring up at them in horror. Alexander's guilt multiplied ten-fold as Neville's eyes bore into theirs.
'What've you done to him?' Harry whispered, horror-stricken.
'It's the full Body-Bind,' responded Alexander miserably.
'Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry,' apologised Hermione, her voice near to tears.
'We had to, Neville, no time to explain,' said Harry.
Alexander squatted and gently patted Neville's forearm. 'You'll understand later, mate. I'll explain everything.'
He rose and they stepped over him, then pulled on the Invisibility Cloak.
Leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor left Alexander with a guilt-ridden chest. He'll be fine. Though Neville probably hates me now, he thought bitterly. In their tense state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. The group held their breath so much as if a shadow lay at their feet. 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, but Harry shook his head.
'Don't worry, Ron, if we survive this, I'll give her one,' Alexander vowed.
'You mean when we survive it.'
As they carefully climbed around her, Mrs Norris turned her lamp-like 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 halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.
Alexander managed to exhale more softly and heard his heart pumping in his ears.
'Who's there?' Peeves demanded abruptly as they climbed towards 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 in the air and floated there, squinting at them. 'Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen.'
Harry spoke in a hoarse whisper, 'Peeves, the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.'
Alexander's jaw lowered at Harry's brilliant idea. Harry was a good imitator. He sounded just like the Baron.
Peeves agreed because the Poltergeist 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.'
He stared in awe as Peeves grovelled before them, sounding apologetic.
'I have business here, Peeves,' croaked Harry. 'Stay away from this place tonight.'
'I will, sir, I most certainly will,' concurred Peeves, rising in the air again. 'Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you.' And he scooted off.
'Brilliant, Harry!' whispered Alexander, and Harry threw a tiny, pleased grin.
A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor and the door was already ajar. Alexander did not have a good feeling about this and clutched the end of his violin, resting against his chest, tighter. The handle was cold.
'Well, there you are,' Harry said quietly, 'Snape's already got past Fluffy.' Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all four of them what was facing them. Underneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the others. 'If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the Cloak, I won't need it now.'
'No,' said Alexander, tone obstinate. He had doubts before, but there was no way he was about to abandon his best friend now. 'You need us.'
'Don't be stupid,' snorted Ron, in response to Harry.
'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. Alexander gulped, the gravity of the situation finally hitting him like a weight train. This was all kinds of dangerous. Who knew what they'd encounter underneath the trapdoor?
'What's that at its feet?' Hermione whispered.
'Looks like a harp,' responded Ron. 'Snape must have left it there.'
'It must wake up the moment you stop playing,' said Harry, then turned towards Alexander.
'Right then.' Alexander took a deep breath then placed the fiddle on his shoulders with the bow held in the other hand. He decided on a tune, Ode to Joy, a simple classical piece easy enough to play and appropriate for the situation. The bow and his fingers moved across the strings as a smooth tune, like silk, sounded. From the first note, the beast's eyes began to droop. Gradually, the dog's growls ceased – it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, deafening snores fill the chamber. Alexander didn't dare to stop, afraid that the fierce dog would suddenly lunge and swallow them whole if they did. The dog's snores were powerful enough to act as a breeze which blew on the four of them, raising Alexander's hair.
'Keep playing,' cautioned Ron, as they slipped out of the Cloak. The four inched towards the trapdoor, with Alexander still playing the bow across the strings. The dog's hot, putrid breath became intense as they approached the giant heads and Alexander fought the urge to gag. It wasn't on par with the troll's stench, but it was still repulsive.
'I think we'll be able to pull the door open,' said Ron, peering over the dog's back. 'Want to go first, Hermione?'
'No, I don't!' she hissed, quietly as to not wake the dog.
'All right.' Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and opened.
'What can you see?' asked Harry.
'Nothing – just black – there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop.'
'Are you sure? There aren't like grappling hooks on the side of the walls or something,' voiced Alexander, eyes tensely shifting to Ron.
'I'm sure,' said Ron, 'there's no other way.'
'Okay, then I'm going first,' declared Harry boldly.
'You want to go first? Really?' Ron turned to stare at Harry. 'I don't know how deep this thing goes.'
Harry was adamant that he was the first to go down. 'Alexander is gonna have to go last so he can keep Fluffy asleep.'
Alexander motioned with the jerk of his head that it was okay for the others to go before him. Hermione glanced anxiously at him. Harry climbed over the dog's legs and peered down through the trapdoor. He sharply inhaled at whatever it was that he saw, then lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Only Harry's head was visible from where Alexander stood.
Harry's features were one of firm determination, 'If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?'
'Right,' nodded Ron.
'See you in a minute, I hope. . .' And Harry let go. Alexander missed a note but didn't think Fluffy cared enough as thunderous snores still sounded. His ears strained to hear something. Anything that would have indicated that Harry hadn't fallen to his death and this wasn't a stupid idea in the first place. There was a distant FLMUP. Ron peered fearfully down the trapdoor, looking for any sign of Harry.
Harry's voice came like he was speaking through a pipe. 'It's okay!' he called, 'it's a soft landing, you can jump!'
Alexander breathed a sigh of relief. Ron threw him a brusque nod then followed after Harry. Alexander motioned for Hermione to go and with the last bite of her lip, she jumped down.
He crept closer to the trapdoor, over the dog's legs, until he was standing underneath it. He peered down and his stomach twisted at the consuming blackness. It reminded him of the bottomless pouch Grandfather purchased on their visit to Gringotts. He prayed there was a way out for them. He sat down on the edge of the trapdoor, violin still on his shoulder, with his legs dangling over the hole. There was a feeling of vertigo that overcame him, which he ignored. Alexander swiftly threw the violin to the side, away from the dog's grip, then plunged down just as Fluffy's growls began to rumble behind him. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down. With an odd, muffled thump, he landed on something soft. He blinked, adjusting to the gloom, then saw the three of them sprawled around him. Massive vines, long and thick, surrounded every inch; he was sitting on a giant plant.
'What's this stuff?' Ron asked to the right of Alexander.
Alexander turned his head, narrowing his eyes and exploring by lightly placing his hand on the plant, which was soft and springy. 'It's some sort of plant thing, I think, here to break the fall maybe.'
'We must be miles under the school,' noted Hermione, wonder in her tone.
'Lucky this plant thing's here, really,' said Ron.
'Lucky!' shrieked Hermione. 'Look at you three!'
Hermione's sudden panicked outburst caused them to realise that the plant wasn't as docile as they thought it to be. The vines had twisted around the hand Alexander used to touch the plant and now his hand was impossible to move from the plant's grip. No matter how hard he tugged or strained, the vines grew in length and tightened their clutches, gradually pulling him down. Terror quickly encased his throat. How the hell were they going to get out of this?
Hermione had leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. The plant had also started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. Harry and Ron's legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers. Hermione, fortunately, had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. She gazed in fright as the three boys fought to pull the plant off them.
'Stop moving!' Hermione ordered. 'I know what this is – it's Devil's Snare!'
'Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help,' snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.
'Stop moving! Are you insane?' snapped Alexander, 'this plant will drag us down and suffocate us.'
'Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!' said Hermione, and Alexander could see her brain working hard. The vines already spread to the upper parts of both his arms and were crawling towards his chest. In a few minutes, he wouldn't be able to breathe. Keep calm, keep calm. Don't panic.
'Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!' Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.
'Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare . . . what did Professor Sprout say?'
'It likes the dark and the damp –' wheezed Alexander. Thank Dieu for Neville's book on Herbology. The pressure of Devil's Snare was truly coming into effect now and was pressing down on him.
'So light a fire!' said Harry, straining his head to dodge the vines trying to wrap around his neck.
'Yes – of course – but there's no wood!' Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
What? That must have been one of the stupidest comments said by Hermione. Any other time, Alexander would have laughed in incredulity. Instead, he settled on a choked groan.
'Have you gone mad?' bellowed Ron, and rightfully so in Alexander's opinion, 'are you a witch or not?'
'Oh, right!' said Hermione with an embarrassed blush.
She whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the plant loosened its grip from Alexander's arms and chest as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself, and Alexander was able to pull free, gulping down a breath of fresh air, which had never tasted sweeter. He joined Hermione by the wall, a droplet of sweat trickling down the back of his neck.
'Putain d'enfer!' he breathed, light-headed, 'that was one of the enchantments. Professor Sprout, I think.'
'Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,' said Harry.
'Yeah,' said Ron, 'and lucky Alexander and Harry don't lose their heads in a crisis – "there's no wood," honestly.' He shook his head exasperatedly.
'This way,' said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway.
Alexander sighed and walked towards the only way forward. 'Let's go and see what other merde we have to face.'
'Thanks for the positivity, Alex,' remarked Harry.
Apart from their footsteps, the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls echoed against the walls. The passageway sloped downward the farther they walked.
'Can you hear something?' Ron whispered.
Alexander listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.
'Do you think it's a ghost?'
'I don't think so,' answered Alexander in a hesitant whisper, 'sounds like wings. Birds maybe?'
'There's light ahead,' said Harry, pointing with a finger, 'I can see something moving.'
When they reached the end of the passageway, there was a brilliantly lit chamber, with its ceiling arched high. Small, jewel-bright birds, fluttered and soared overhead. A heavy wooden door stood on the opposite side.
'It can't be this easy,' Alexander shook his head. 'There's no way.'
'Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?' said Ron, his gaze fixed anxiously on the birds.
'Possibly. The birds have been charmed. Wait – this must be Flitwick's.'
'They don't look very vicious,' said Harry, 'but I suppose if they all swooped down at once.' He paused then decided, 'Well, there's no other choice. . . I'll run.'
Alexander brandished his wand, ready to blow them away if they attacked Harry. Harry took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. Alexander expected vicious sharp beaks and claws, but nothing happened. Harry reached the door unscathed. He pulled at the handle unsuccessfully.
Alexander joined Harry with the other two. They each yanked and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora Charm.
'Now what?' huffed Ron.
'These can't be just birds for decoration,' observed Hermione.
Alexander squinted at the flock, brows creasing in concentration. The birds glittered, reflecting light. Wait, light?
'They're not birds!' Harry blurted, coming to the same conclusion. 'They're keys! Winged keys – look carefully. So that must mean . . .'
Broomsticks hung in mid-air. 'Yes – look!' Alexander exclaimed, pointing, 'broomsticks! To catch the key to the door!'
'But there are hundreds of them!' Ron examined the lock on the door. 'We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one – probably silver, like the handle.'
'Right,' Alexander nodded, 'you three try and catch the key, and I'll stand here in case something goes wrong.'
Harry, Ron, and Hermione seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. Alexander watched, teeth gritted, as they grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one. Harry's title as youngest Seeker in a century wasn't for show, however, as he proved just now.
'That one!' Harry called. 'That big one – there – no, there – with bright blue wings – the feathers are all crumpled on one side.'
Alexander squinted with a hand across where his forehead and scalp met. He couldn't see very well from his position of the ground but the others must have seen the key. Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom. Alexander winced. That must have hurt.
'We've got to close in on it!' Harry yelled, 'Ron, you come at it from above – Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down, and I'll try and catch it. NOW!'
Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, and Harry streaked after it. They must have missed it because Alexander heard Ron curse in frustration. Then Harry leaned forward and slammed his hand against the stone with one hand. Alexander's delight echoed around the high chamber. It did not last long. He was right before to say that something might go wrong. The other keys jolted and swiftly made a target when Harry's fingers clasped around the key, travelling towards him. Alexander did not like the look of the sharp edge of the other keys.
'Alexander, catch,' yelled Harry, advancing towards him.
Harry threw an object at Alexander who jumped forward to catch it before it hit the ground. He held a large silver key that had a bent wing which struggled to escape from his grasp. Hermione and Ron quickly joined him on the ground. The keys still trailed Harry who was doing his best to stop them from reaching him.
'Hurry, Alexander,' urged Hermione, a note of fear in her voice as she stared at Harry on the broomstick.
He rammed it into the lock and turned, breathing a sigh of relief as it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice. He pulled the door open. He motioned for the other two and they piled after him, then shouted for Harry.
'Harry! Come on!'
Harry made his way towards the door, speeding hurriedly on the broomstick, and when he entered, Alexander quickly slammed the door shut before any of the charmed keys could follow. Harry landed and threw the broomstick towards the side, wiping the sweat off his face.
'Well, that went relatively well,' remarked Alexander.
In the next chamber, Alexander thought that he had suddenly gone blind for a second. It was as dark as the mythical underworld. As they took a step forward, light immersed the room to reveal an astounding sight. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen. The pieces towered over them threateningly and were carved from black stone. Facing them, across the chamber, were the white pieces. Alexander felt so small standing there as if he were in a dollhouse. He shivered despite not feeling cold.
'Now what do we do?' Harry whispered.
'It's obvious, isn't it?' came Ron's unwavering voice. 'We've got to play our way across the room.' Behind the white pieces, they could see another door.
'How?' mumbled Hermione, chewing her lip.
'I think,' said Ron after a slight pause, '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. Immediately, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron. 'Do we – er – have to join you to get across?' The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other three.
'You don't think we can just walk to the door, do you?' said Alexander weakly.
'No,' replied Harry, 'it didn't work for the keys, it won't work here.'
'I thought so,' he grumbled.
'This needs thinking about,' advised Ron. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces.' They watched Ron ponder. Finally, he said, 'Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess- '
'We're not offended,' said Harry. 'Just tell us what to do.'
'Hmm, although Alexander might be good at chess.' Ron turned his gaze thoughtfully at him.
'We'll have a better chance of winning if you guide us,' said Alexander promptly, and Ron curtly nodded.
'Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, Hermione, you go there instead of that castle, and Alex, you take the place of that rook.'
'What about you?' asked Harry.
'I'm going to be a knight,' proclaimed Ron.
The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a rook, a bishop, and a castle, turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares. They took their places, and Alexander watched with bated breath at the other chess pieces.
'White always plays first in chess,' muttered Ron, peering across the board. 'Yes, look.'
A white pawn moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Alexander's knees were shaky. He had a horrible discernment that this was going to be like real wizard chess. He trusted Ron's ability, which had never before failed, but worried what would happen if one of them were taken by the black pieces.
'Harry – move diagonally four squares to the right.'
A shocking incident occurred with further hardened Alexander's worry. When their knight was taken the white queen crushed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown. The stone pieces had shattered to the ground.
'Had to let that happen,' gulped Ron, appearing shaken. 'Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on.'
Ron was in his element. His eyes were bright and focused. Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy.
'Alex, move two steps forward.'
Soon a huddle of limp black pieces slumped along the wall. He darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones. As a rook, Alexander had to wait a while until he could capture the other pieces, shifting vertically and horizontally across the board.
'We're nearly there,' Ron murmured. 'Let me think – let me think.' The white queen turned her blank face towards him.
Alexander's stomach plummeted, and a stone became lodged in his throat. He recognised Ron's next move.
'Ron! No!' he shouted desperately.
'Yes. . .' said Ron, 'it's the only way.'
'Don't be so stupid, there's has to be another strategy.'
'What's he talking about?' demanded Harry.
'I've got to be taken,' answered Ron softly, causing Alexander to shut his eyes.
'NO!' Harry and Hermione shouted.
'Ron, this is fucking absurd! Don't do it.'
'That's chess!' snapped Ron. 'You've got to make some sacrifices! I'll make my move and she'll take me – that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!'
'But – ' protested Harry.
'Do you want to stop Snape or not?'
'Ron –'
'Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!'
Alexander's fear had come true. There was no alternative. He had to watch one of his friends being taken while he uselessly stood there.
'Ready?' Ron declared, his face white but resolute. 'Here I go – now, don't hang around once you've won.' He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor. Alexander bit the inside of his tongue to stop his cry, hard enough to slightly draw blood. Hermione shrieked but stayed on her square. The white queen dragged Ron to one side. Alexander hoped that Ron was just unconscious. He willed himself not to think too much of it. Ron will be fine.
'Go on, Harry,' he pressed, 'we're still playing.'
Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. They had won. With a price, however. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear.
Alexander couldn't look at Ron, because if he did, he would allow the horror to consume him, which was the last thing he wanted. He needed to keep a level head to get through this ordeal. The remaining three friends charged through the door and up the next passageway.
Hermione's voice expressed their worry, 'What if he's – ?'
'He's fine, just knocked out,' Alexander stated firmly, a tad bit trying to convince himself. They had reached another door. He was starting to become jaded with all the doors they had to go through and was close to blasting it off its hinges. Calm down.
'We're close, I can sense it,' said Harry, and pushed the door open. A repulsive smell filled their nostrils. Alexander pulled his shirt up to his nose, trying not to breathe too deeply. Eyes watering, he spotted, flat on the floor in front, an unconscious troll with a bloody lump on its head. It was larger than the one they had fought during Halloween.
'Let's thank our lucky stars we didn't have to fight that one,' Alexander uttered, as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs.
Harry nodded, face rather green. 'Come on, I can't breathe.' Harry pulled open the next door.
Alexander held his breath at what they would encounter next. His muscles were tensed and he gripped his wand securely in case something jumped out at them. But the next room was very distinct from the others. There was a wooden, rectangular table like the ones during medieval feasts yet this one was relatively small. Seven oddly shaped bottles stood on the table in a line.
'What do we have to do?' said Harry.
'Something to do with those bottles,' answered Hermione, eyes narrowed on the objects.
The three stepped over the threshold, and instantly a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't a common fire either, as its flames were purple. Black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward.
'Great, now we're trapped,' groaned Alexander.
'Look!'
Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and Alexander looked over her shoulder to read it:
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
Hermione let out a great sigh, widely smiling, which seemed out of place after all that had occurred.
'Brilliant,' marvelled Hermione.
'You know what to do,' said Alexander, with a knowing tone.
'Yes, this isn't magic – it's logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever.'
'But so will we, won't we?' frowned Harry.
'Of course not, have a little faith, Harry, we have the most logical person we know with us.' Alexander tugged his lips up with a minuscule smirk.
'Everything we need is here on this paper,' explained Hermione. 'Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple.'
'We have to figure out which drink is the right one.'
'But how do we know which to drink?' asked Harry.
'Give me a minute.' Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles.
Alexander grabbed the paper from her and read the riddle again. 'Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides,' he quietly uttered. 'Death. . . poison, dwarf – giant.' He chewed his lip for a few seconds. 'Hermione, I don't think the biggest or the smallest bottle is poison.'
'Yes, I thought so,' she nodded without taking her eyes off the bottles, 'and the first bottle cannot be a wine.' She muttered to herself and pointed at the bottles. At last, she clapped her hands. 'Got it,' she announced triumphantly. 'The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire towards the Stone.'
The tiny bottle was curved with the bottom half jutting out and the top half went inwards. Liquid swirled inside the faintly transparent, purple glass.
'There's not enough for all three of us,' discerned Harry. They all looked at each other. 'Which one will get you back through the purple flames?'
Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.
'You drink that,' said Alexander. 'I'll go with Harry. One of us has to.' Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Harry cut her off.
'No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy, go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. Even if the two of us might be able to hold Snape off together for a while, we're not powerful enough for him, really.'
'Thanks for the vote of confidence.' Alexander raised an eyebrow.
Hermione appeared worried. 'But Harry – what if You-Know-Who's with him?'
'Well – I was lucky once, wasn't I?' hesitated Harry, pointing at his scar. 'I might get lucky again.'
'Who knows, you might get a matching one on the other side as well,' said Alexander wryly.
'Make it equal, right?' weakly smiled Harry.
Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.
'Hermione!'
Alexander suppressed a smile at Harry's flustered face.
'You're both great wizards, you know.'
'She's right, as always,' nodded Alexander.
'I'm not as good as her,' said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.
'Me!' said Hermione. 'Books! And cleverness!'
'Don't sell yourself short,' Alexander informed, giving her a look, 'they're good too.'
'But there are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh!' She turned to envelop Alexander into a hug, catching him off guard, and muffled into his shoulder, 'You'll both be careful, won't you?'
'We'll be okay,' he said awkwardly. Her hugs always unnerved him at first but it was starting to become familiar to him.
She leaned back, her eyes glistening.
'You drink first,' motioned Harry. 'You are sure which is which, aren't you?'
'Positive,' sniffed Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered.
'What's wrong?' hastily demanded Alexander, worried that something had happened. 'It's not poison?'
'No, but it's like ice.'
He breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't hurt.
'Quick, go before it wears off,' said Harry.
'Good luck – take care –'
'Go!'
Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire. It was unnerving to witness the flames enclose around her yet not once did Alexander hear a cry escape her lips.
Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned to face the black flames. 'Ready?' He threw a taut yet courageous look at Alexander.
Sounding braver than he actually felt, Alexander took a deep inhale then bobbed his head. 'Let's get the greasy bastard.'
'We have to go immediately after we've swallowed in case the Potion wears off in seconds,' said Harry.
'Good idea.'
Harry tipped his head back and shivered as he swallowed. He gave the bottle to Alexander then walked straight through the flames. Alexander drained the remaining concoction in one gulp. Hermione hadn't been lying: ice flooded every inch of his body as if it were travelling rapidly through his veins. Placing the bottle down, he marched forward, bracing himself for the scorching pain despite what he had perceived. Yet, there was nothing. He felt nothing as the black flames licked his body. For a moment there was only dark fire then he was on the other side, in the last chamber. Harry stood with his back to him; Alexander knew Harry's mien would be one painted with horror and disbelief. Because in front, on the opposite side, there was someone standing, waiting, probably for Harry. But it wasn't Snape, nor was it the psychopath.
Longest chapter so far. There are only one or two more chapters until this book is finished.