Ascension: The Silver Spears

by Define Anachronistic

(AU) Harry Potter is different. No one is more aware of this than him. His relatives acknowledge his existence only when necessary and despite growing up surrounded by creature comforts, everything he has ever owned is either a hand me down, stolen, scavenged or lent to him out of pity. He has no one to rely on. He tells himself that he prefers it that way. But no man is an island.

22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Gauntlet

It was the first relaxing afternoon they had enjoyed in weeks, maybe months.

Now that exams were finally over, Harry, Anthony and Terry had left the school behind them, abandoning their Defence Against the Dark Arts notes for the soft grass underneath the shade of the beech tree by the lake. With their school robes now shed and their ties loosened (or completely discarded like Terry's) they could finally enjoy the tranquil peace that the school grounds had to offer as they discussed their plans for the impending summer.

"I think we might go to Italy this year." Terry was saying as he sat cross legged on the grass. "One of my cousins is getting remarried."

Harry, who was lying flat on his back, lazily pointing his wand repeatedly at the green leaves high above them. "Avifors!" A single leaf broke away from its branch and it began to fold itself into the shape of a swallow. As it fluttered away from its previous home, it joined with the dozen other leaf-birds, forming a flock as they flew around the tree's wide trunk.

"He's got family every- would you knock that off?!" Anthony, who Harry had thought was dozing with his back to the trunk, demanded. "I keep thinking they're going to hit me." Harry was about to deny that, claim that his skill and control was too good, when two of the leaf-birds collided with the side of his head.

Harry winced. "Sorry."

Terry grinned at his brother's misfortune. "If you name a country, I can probably name a cousin or two who lives there." When Harry didn't take him up on his offer, Terry asked him, "What are you doing this summer?"

Harry yawned. "I'm not sure. Probably just hang around town, catch up with the Muggle world, you know." Harry was strangely looking forward to it. He normally spent his summers reading and watching the old television that he had kept in secret in the attic. Vernon had tossed it out when he had purchased a much larger one at Dudley's request, and Harry had just about managed to get it into the attic with copious amounts of magic, physical effort and sweat without anyone realising. The thing was so heavy that it had almost made him pass out, but he had managed it.

Still, the endless hours he spent in front of it, sunrise to sunset during the summer, had been some of the happiest memories of his childhood. Even in the sweltering heat of the stuffy, windowless attic, Harry felt like he was getting a glimpse of the outside world that even his books couldn't provide him with. Places that were far away from Little Whinging, places that he wished to see with his own eyes one day.

Harry was smiling softly, lost in memories of the long-passed nights, where he would sneak up to watch the awfully produced horror movies that would play on the small television, wrapped in his own blanket for protection, when Anthony's next question jogged him out of it.

"What do you think Michael is going to do this summer?" It was an abrupt question, but opening his eyes fully, Harry could see why it was asked. Michael was heading down from the castle, right in their direction. Despite himself, a small part of him was hopeful that he was coming to join them, but that small part died when Michael caught sight of them underneath the beech tree. He froze, then turned to face the sweeping lawn, then the lake shore and finally sloping grassy hill, but they were all inhabited by other students enjoying the good weather and Michael clearly wanted to be alone. He proved this by turning on his heel and returning to the castle.

There was a long moment of silence, as the boys all looked at each other awkwardly, but it was broken by the arrival of the Ravenclaw girls. Harry smiled tersely at Lisa, who sat down next to him with a dramatic huff, carefully ignoring the missing presence in their group.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Term was due to end on the third Friday of June, so for the last two weeks of the year, things got a little bit out of control.

At least, from Harry's perspective they did.

While classes were still in effect for everyone but the departing Seventh Years, this was just for show, as teachers assigned them homework and reading to complete over the summer but left them to their own devices for the most part. If the students wished to complete their work over the summer, that was their prerogative, but it was clear that the staff was giving them the chance to complete their work before term officially ended.

Harry was amongst the few who made the most of this opportunity. After haranguing them for months about exams he knew that there was no way he could get Terry and Anthony to join him in his studies the very moment their tests were finally over. Harry enjoyed a good break as much as anyone, but two days of inactivity was enough to make him feel like he was wasting precious time. Time that he could be using to progress even further.

So, while most of the school went out to enjoy themselves in Hogsmeade or relax in the sun on the grounds, Harry was amongst the few that bunkered away inside the Library Tower. In no time at all, he had managed to complete his summer homework as most of it was reading that he had already completed months ago. This left him with almost two weeks to cram in as much information as possible from the library texts to his own notes, as students were not allowed to remove borrowed books from the castle grounds.

Harry was rather pleased with his own progress. At the beginning of the year, he had doubted if he could even keep up with his classmates, and now he had mastered almost all the recommended Third Year Charms and was halfway through the Second Year curriculum for Transfiguration. He was so far ahead of his peers in Defence Against the Dark Arts that it did not bear thinking about. While he was on a more even footing with the other First Years in every other subject, he felt it would suit him better to keep pushing himself in wand-based subjects and follow the standard curriculum for the others. At least until he felt he had mastered everything Hogwarts had to offer, but he doubted that would happen for another couple of years at least.

In order to capitalise on his academic advantage, he would have to find somewhere quiet and secure to practice magic over the summer. While the Statute of Secrecy prohibited the use of magic in public as the capability of seeing through the Veil and perceiving reality as it truly was could appear randomly in any given Muggle, it did not prohibit the use of magic in non-magical areas.

As the only wizard in Little Whinging, Harry would be held responsible if any Muggle saw him using magic. A lot of adult witches and wizards worked around this by identifying which of their neighbours could see through the Veil and reporting them to the local Ministry so that they could be offered employment as a contact in the Muggle world. If said Muggle refused, their magical neighbours would simply have to obliviate them every time they saw something that they shouldn't have.

Harry didn't have the time to identify if any of the Muggles in Little Whinging could perceive him while he was wearing his Ouroboros, and he wasn't capable of obliviating them even if they were. So, he was stuck finding a place where he couldn't be seen or heard as he practiced his magic over the summer, and it would have to be both safe and clean enough to store his potion ingredients, as he didn't want to lug them to and from Privet Drive every day. Finally, it would also have to be big enough to practice his Martial Spells in with suffering any blowback.

It was a tall order.

Towards the end of term, Harry couldn't help but notice Quirrell's busy schedule. Despite his classes being virtually finished for the year, the Defence Professor kept strange hours, coming and going from his office constantly, and even leaving the castle at strange hours. When Harry finally managed to corner him with help of the Marauder's Map, hoping to get some duelling practice in before the summer holidays, Quirrell brushed him off.

"I'm planning an expedition this summer." Quirrell said, clearly in a hurry. "I need time to prepare."

"Alright then." Harry had kept his face impassive, but his disappointment must have been obvious to a practiced Legilimens, as Quirrell was quick to reassure him. "I haven't forgotten about you. Remember, we still have an extra-credit exam to complete, and you are my W.O.M.B.A.T representative." He smiled kindly down at Harry. "It will be up to you to show Lord Dumbledore just how much you have learned this year with my teaching methods, so practice hard."

Harry took his advice to heart, spending hours and hours practicing hard in the Room of Requirement, both on his own and also with any other Marauder who he could convince to join him. Even with his busy schedule, Cedric made time to train with him, finally teaching him the Impervius Charm that he had been bugging him about for weeks. Harry wasn't even annoyed with the long wait, as Cedric's advice was both useful and well thought out and he also recognised that the two of them were on completely different levels.

Lee didn't have much of a spell repertoire, but he had excellent reflexes and had Harry at his mercy more times than he cared to remember. Fred and George had helped him once, but they were the only ones who he denied a second turn. They only wished to duel as a pair and Harry had been quickly overwhelmed by them. Maria had shown up the most, but she wasn't exactly eager to duel. Harry suspected she was lonely without her best friend as all the other Third Year Ravenclaws had friend groups that had long been established.

What surprised him most of all was Marcus' offer to train with him. He had entered the duelling area of the Marauder's Headquarters looking sheepish and dressed in athletic gear. "Want someone to spar with?" He asked, looking uncharacteristically awkward.

"Err…yeah! Sure." Harry greeted him with an aborted wave, feeling awkward. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the Quidditch Final and, even though the two had never been particularly close, he had still felt a little hurt by the older boy's cold shoulder. Not too hurt, as he seemed to be ignoring everyone else as well, but this wasn't the only reason why he was so surprised at the boy's offer.

"I didn't know you duelled."

Marcus looked like he was about to shrug of the inquiry, before reconsidering it. "You know, I think you're the only person I can tell the truth to. I can't even tell my friends or my parents." Harry's eyebrows rose, but before he could point out that the two of them weren't that close, he continued. "You're the only person who knew about me and Robert." He clarified. "So, you should know that I'm joining the Auror Corps."

Harry was surprised, for a multitude of reasons. "Why?"

Michael clenched his jaw. "I went to visit him, you know? Before his trial." Harry hadn't even been aware that a trail had taken place, but he shouldn't have been. Robert's identity was still being kept under wraps from the media as he was a minor.

However, Harry had to admit to himself that he probably wouldn't have even noticed if it had been printed on the front page of Wizarding World News, as he had been so preoccupied with exams. "I could tell he was lying to me when he told me he was innocent. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner." The frustration was clear in his voice. "But I'm not going to be fooled again."

Harry didn't think joining the Wizarding World's military was going to solve his problems, but it wasn't his place to tell Marcus what to do with his life. He did have one question though. "How can you join now? I thought Aurors only accept recruits as they enter their Third Year at Hogwarts."

Marcus grunted. "That's only the elite squads. The ones led by Captains. If Aurors only accepted Third Years from the premier schools, then we'd only have a few hundred around the world." He shook his head. "Nah, they accept anyone with five N.E. , regardless if they went to a school or not."

"So, you'll be joining after next year then?" Harry asked, feeling excited. When Marcus nodded, Harry grinned up at him. "That's great! I'll be enlisting then too! We can train together. Have you ever read the Auror's Enchiridion? I think a previous Marauder left behind a copy. You should memorise it over the summer, learn the conduct and procedures, and we'll start training properly in September."

Harry walked off to go find it, leaving his new sparring partner to gape at his back.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Two days until the end of term, Quirrell finally made good on his promise to test the most elite student of each level before the end of the year.

One day, Harry awoke to the sound of an owl scratching at his window and a stoic Argos was just staring at it. The owl was frantic in its attempts to deliver the letter, leading Harry to believe that it had been trying to get his attention for a while. He snorted as he rolled out of bed. "Thanks for telling me, buddy." He muttered to his own owl, who turned his head away from him stubbornly. Apparently, alerting Harry to delivery owls was not part of his job description.

Removing the owl of its burden, Harry watched, guiltily amused, as it flew back to the owlery in a sulk. Opening the letter, he found only a single message:

My office. Before breakfast.

Q

Harry, wondering what was so important and time sensitive that he had to be there at such an early hour, went through his morning ablutions as quickly as he could, before leaving his dorm once he was dressed for the day.

Upon entering Quirrell's office, Harry found that he was not the only student to have been invited to this impromptu meeting. Eliza and Tonks were both seated in front of Quirrell's desk, and they had turned to face him when he entered through the door.

Quirrell spoke first. "Well now that we are all here," he gave Harry a very pointed look, "we can finally begin."

Well excuse me for having a lie in, Harry thought sourly.

"I have spoken to you all individually, but now I wish to cement your involvement before we go ahead with tonight's test." Quirrell explained. "Are you all still interested in taking part? Tonight?" Harry and Eliza nodded eagerly, but Tonks hesitated. "Nymphadora?"

Tonks grimaced at the sound of her first name but was unable to reprimand a teacher like she could one of the Marauders. "Tonight? Err…" Her eyes flitted about the office, as though hoping an excuse would appear from thin air.

"It's completely fine if you don't wish to take part. It will have no impact of your prospects." Quirrell reassured her. "After all, you can't make a commitment to something if you don't yet know what it is." Tonks looked relieved, but that expression turned embarrassed when Quirrell continued. "Besides, isn't Charlie Weasley throwing a huge bash in the forest, after hours?"

"What? He is? I wouldn't know anything about that." Tonks tried her best, but she wasn't a great liar. Her facial control was okay, but the fact that her hair turned tomato red gave her away.

Quirrell took mercy on her. "You can go." Harry tried to hold his laughter in, but he had never seen a student flee a teacher's presence so quickly. As the peal of laughter escaped his lips, Tonks shot him a sharp glare before exiting the room.

Quirrell turned his attention to the two of them. "What of the two of you? Will you test yourselves?" Harry wanted to ask more questions, but Eliza's quick nod of assent was enough to make him quickly agree as well. He didn't want to fall even further behind her. Quirrell presented each of them with an envelope, before warning them, "You won't be able to open it until tonight. Eliza at nine, Harry at ten. That should give you enough time to prepare."

"What about curfew?" Harry asked. Eliza snorted and he turned to glare at her. "We can't all be Sentinels." He snapped.

Quirrell shrugged. "If you can't even figure out a way to move without getting caught then you really don't stand a chance in the test that I have designed for you." Harry scowled at him, which only made him sigh before adding. "If you get caught it's an immediate fail, but I will get you out of trouble, alright?" He said this in a tone that was meant to be reassuring, but it only made Harry feel patronised. Judging by Eliza's poorly supressed giggles, she felt the same.

"I'm in." Harry muttered, darkly. He snatched his envelope before leaving the room without another word.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

While his friends were preoccupied with discussions of the end of year party that the teachers were throwing for them in the Small Hall, Harry was preparing himself for tonight's extra credit exam. Harry would be sad to miss the event, as the Second Years had equated it to something of a festival with music, food, games, and dancing. Still, he wanted to prove to Quirrell, Dumbledore and any Auror officiants who would be made privy to his results, that he wasn't just capable of getting good marks, but that he was prepared to sacrifice his personal life for a chance at a successful career. If the other First Years were more worried about what they would be wearing and who would be asking them to dance, then Harry had an even greater advantage over them then his grades would show.

After consuming a quick breakfast in the kitchens, as he wanted to avoid the teachers in the Great Hall, Harry made his way outside of the castle, through the secret passageway hidden behind the statue of the healer, Gunhilda de Gorsemoor, on the third floor. It was the second to last day of term, and Harry would be breaking his perfect attendance record by skiving off lessons for the first time, but he thought it was worth it.

Besides, it wasn't like he was missing out on anything, as the teachers had all but given up on teaching, as the students were too rowdy by the prospect of the summer holiday.

After a long slide down into a tunnel, Harry followed the passageway underneath the school and its grounds, until he reached the entranceway that led him into the Honeydukes basement. This might have been a problem if it wasn't for his trusty Invisibility Cloak.

Harry slipped out of the shop, away from the busy High Street, towards the quieter, residential half of the town. When he came to a stop in front of an apartment building, Harry removed his Cloak. He wore a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up to cover his hair in case anyone was watching from the windows, but he was sure that anyone who could afford to live in an apartment building in such a trendy neighbourhood in Hogsmeade would be at work on a Thursday morning.

Extending his wand into the street, just like Terry had described to him months ago, Harry didn't have to wait too long before there was a loud BANG! and a triple decker purple bus came careening down the street. Despite its incredible speed, it managed to come to a near immediate stop directly in front of him.

Harry was still struggling to control his expression, wanting to make it seem like he was used to sights such as this, when the doors opened and a pimply faced teenager wearing a conductor's uniform popped his head out. After a moment in which they both simply stared at each other, the pimply boy (whose name was Stan, according to his name tag) huffed. "You coming in, or what?"

Startled, as he had expected more confusion as to why a boy his age was travelling alone, Harry quickly climbed onto the bus. "Children's ticket is eight Sickles." Stan said, voice firm. Harry reached into his pocket, exact change at the ready. He didn't want to be remembered by anyone he interacted with today, and few things were more memorable than a child throwing around gold.

Stan handed him a written receipt and allowed Harry onto the bus. Much like the Hogwarts Express, it was much larger on the inside than it had any right to be. It was very well furnished with armchairs for individual passengers and sofas for families. There was even a chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.

Stan guided Harry to an available seat, which definitely wasn't normal for a bus in his experience as Muggle public transport couldn't afford service so nice. Harry sat down, easily sinking into the soft lounger.

"So, where you headed?" Stan asked, leaning against a brass pole.

"Leaky Cauldron."

"Just another one for the Cauldron, Ern!" Stan called out to the driver. Harry couldn't see him from this angle, but he heard him grunt as he began to drive the bus down the street. "Lucky you, Diagon Alley is our sixth stop." The conductor told Harry, but before he could reply, the bus jumped.

It was eerily similar to the sensation he had felt when he had used a Portkey at Christmas, but different, as he was protected by the Knight Bus as it travelled through the same colourful space that the Portkey had created. From outside the windows, Harry caught brief images of buildings, cars, lampposts and even people being pushed out of the way as the bus forcefully created a space in which to move directly to its destination.

Riding the Knight Bus was like riding inside of a Portkey, which felt exactly as bizarre as it sounded.

Before Harry could tear his eyes away from the window, the colourful world outside of the bus's windows flashed white and just like that they were cruising down a coastal road, just outside of a small, rustic town. "St. Andrews!" Stan called, and an elderly man hobbled down from an upper level and climbed off the bus. Once he had disembarked, the exit closed, and the bus took off again.

"This your first time on the Knight Bus?" Stan asked. Harry glanced at him, only to find the pimply boy looking at him in amusement.

Harry had expected to be questioned, so he fell back on his prepared excuse. "Yeah, mum and dad normally take me by Floo, but they reckon I'm old enough to go out on my own." The number of day school students in the British Wizarding Community was in the low thousands, and that didn't even count those who were home schooled, so he knew that he really wouldn't stick out.

"What you going to London on your own for?"

Harry touched the bag he was carrying. "Dad asked me to bring him some of his stuff."

Stan scrunched his eyebrows. "Why didn't he come and get it himself?" Harry gave him a rehearsed uncomfortable look, and the conductor grimaced. "Ah." There was nothing quite like the awkward personal details of a stranger's life to shut down public transport small talk.

When the Knight Bus arrived on Charring Cross Road and stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron, a veritable stream of passengers disembarked onto the pavement and right into the tavern. There were more than enough people entering his tavern all at once that he felt sure that they only person there who could recognise him, Tom the barkeep, would be far too distracted to notice a single child exiting through the back way.

Opening the entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry lowered his hood and strode confidently down the alley, confident in his ability to blend in on such a busy street. When he arrived at the Gringotts he swept right past the guards on either side of the bronze doors and prepared his key while he read the inscription engraved on the silver doors. When he stepped into Gringotts proper, he waited in the shortest queue, eager to complete his business.

Harry couldn't say why, but he was sure that today's transaction was taking longer than it had when he had come here with Hagrid back in July. All he did know was that it took him nearly half an hour to get down to his vault. Opening the large door with his key, he asked the Goblin that had escorted him to wait for him in the cart.

Upon entering his vault, Harry made straight for the stone shelves to his right, precisely to the row of flasks that had identical labels of Felix Felicis. Smiling, Harry removed the one closest to him and placed it inside his cherry wood box. Even though he guessed by the Runes engraved on the crystal that it had been placed inside of an unbreakable flask, Harry didn't want to take the risk, as he wrapped it tight inside of a clean pair of socks. It would be beyond foolish of him to break it, as even Potion Masters struggled to make Liquid Luck, and he only had five more flasks left among his shelves.

He knew it was cheating to use the definitive magical performance enhancer, as it was banned from every official exam and sporting event around the world, but this wasn't official at all. Harry desperately wanted to leave a strong impression on those who would be judging his performance tonight, especially after this morning. He knew that he and Eliza weren't in direct competition, but this was as close as he could get for now, and if he could leave a greater impression than she could then it would be a victory in his mind.

Pausing only to refill his Mokeskin pouch with eight Sickles for the ride home and a handful of Galleons to exchange for Muggle money for the approaching summer holiday, he left his family's vault, closing the door firmly behind him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When he made his return to the castle well after lunch time, Harry spent the rest of the day preparing. He made a quick trip to the Hospital Wing in order to nick two vials of Girding Potion and a single vial of Dreamless Sleep potion, while Madam Pomfrey was preoccupied with fixing a boy's failed self-transfiguration.

As he did so, he couldn't help but overhear a conversation between the school matron and Professor McGonagall who brought the boy in.

"Completely ridiculous." McGonagall was muttering. "Will they ever learn?"

Pomfrey scoffed. "Oh, as if you don't remember being their age. Always unhappy with your looks. Always wanting something to change. Every teenager goes through it, long before we were at this school and long after we leave it."

"Of course, I remember." McGonagall sighed. "But why today? As if I didn't have enough to deal with."

"Albus will return soon." Pomfrey soothed.

"Yes, but while he's gone every member of the Board of Governors thinks they can pull a fast one on me." She shook her head. "As though I didn't teach half of them!"

Harry didn't hear anymore as he exited the infirmary in a hasty manner. Pomfrey would soon realise that something had been stolen from her stores, as Harry's kindjal left obvious evidence behind when it did its work, but he didn't know any other way to break her lock and reach his prize.

After large meal in the kitchens, Harry returned his dormitory in order to sleep for the rest of the day, asking Argos to wake him when the Clock tower chimed nine. He really needed a better alarm clock than his owl, but he had never owned one at Privet Drive, and he had never needed to learn any alarm spells as he always rose early and was steadfastly punctual. His precision may come back to bite him now that he needed to wake at an unusual hour.

Taking a swig of the Dreamless Sleep Potion, Harry settled himself in bed. He was asleep before he could even pull the covers over himself.

It felt like he had only just closed his eyes when there was a loud squawk in his ear. Sitting up abruptly, Harry looked around for the source of the disturbance, only to remember what he had asked his owl to do. Sitting atop his headrest was Argos, looking as proud as a Burrowing owl was capable of. "Thanks." Harry muttered, surveying his now darkening room. It was the blue hour, and the end of year parties were well underway, leaving the rest of the school to him.

Harry prepared himself with a scalding shower to erase his grogginess, before dressing in his Silver Spears duelling uniform and eating one of the sandwiches that he had brought back with him from the kitchens earlier. When he was done with that he checked and double checked his bag for all his equipment, everything he thought he might need, and made sure it was arranged in easy to reach spots. He was as ready as he was ever going to be. All he had to do now was wait.

The next half hour felt like torture. An uneventful, painless sort of torture, but torture, nonetheless. When the Clock Tower finally struck ten, Harry tore the envelope open, to find that it only contained six words:

Beyond the portrait of Headmistress Burke.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Harry was glad that he had thought to bring the Marauder's Map with him. He wouldn't have even been able to find the first door without it.

He had carefully crossed the border, the invisible threshold that lay beyond Headmistress Burke's portrait, underneath the protection of his Invisibility Cloak. Wand out, Harry began to explore the dungeons carefully, wary of both attacks and traps. However, as the minutes dragged and nothing presented itself to him, he begun to feel worried that he had misread Quirrell's message. He would have checked it again, but it had burst into flames when he had finished reading the last word.

Harry had fastened his wind-up watch to the outside of his left bracer, just above his bronze Ouroboros, but he now regretted doing so as he could feel his nerves begin to rise when the long hand hit six. The mere thought of failing before he had even found the test was too embarrassing to consider, so he activated the Marauder's Map and began to search more systemically.

One by one, Harry searched each long, windowless, torchlit corridor, for any sign or clue that Quirrell might have left for him. He did not just rely on his eyes either. Throwing caution to the wind, Harry began to cast the Verdimillious Charm in every corridor that he stepped into, but aside from a few illegal items that had been poorly hidden or lost by the student populace, he found nothing of note.

The dungeons underneath the school seemed like an endless labyrinth, one he would have been lost in if it wasn't for the Map, but it seemed more and more likely that he would simply run out of Mana before he found whatever he was meant to be looking for.

When his watched turned to eleven, Harry noticed the stark absence of the Clock Tower's familiar chimes. He was too far down to hear it. Something about this set him off, and he decided that it was time to give up and try to think of something else. But as he was just about to turn back, the luminous green sparks of his last Verdimillious Charm congregated on a non-descript door. Confused, Harry examined the Map again, and confirmed that there should not even be a door there to begin with.

Harry began to approach the door carefully, examining it for any sign of magical tampering. Judging by the way the fading green sparks tried to get underneath the door, rather than pressing themselves against it, he suspected that the entranceway was not cursed, but whatever was behind it certainly was.

"Revelio!" There was no reaction, so the door was actually a door and not pretending to be something else. "Specialis Revelio!" There was a reaction that time, as the knowledge of what magic had been cast on that door revealed itself in his mind. It was just an Unbreakable Charm and a simple Locking Charm. Fearing that this was all too easy, he pointed his wand at the door once more. "Homenum Revelio!" There was no one waiting for him beyond that door. A door that shouldn't even exist according to the Marauders.

With trepidation, Harry raised his wand once more. "Alohomora!" The lock clicked open and Harry, ever so slowly, turned the knob and opened the door.

If he hadn't been wearing his Invisibility Cloak, he would have immediately died.

It was a good thing he was, as it gave him a brief moment to look into the room beyond the door, except that it wasn't a room at all. The doorway opened into directly into a wooded area, shrouded in darkness, the night sky hardly visible through the thicket of trees.

While Harry spent a moment trying to understand how a forest could fit inside a dungeon room, he saw something flicker in his peripheral, reflecting the light of the torches behind him. When his eyes adjusted to the gloom, and he understood just what he was looking at, Harry felt his heart jump into his throat. There, perhaps fifty feet away, was a Beast that he had only seen in the Auror's Enchiridion.

The creature was bear sized, bipedal, but sloping as though dragged down by the weight of its enormous arms. Its large, clenched fists were pressed to the ground, but atop each of its wrists were foot long claws which curved outward like sickles. Perfect for disembowelling its preferred prey. Its fur was raggedy, thick, and silver, which was how Harry had been able to catch sight of it so quickly, as it reflected the light from the doorway.

With a deep, startled grunt, the animal quickly turned towards the doorway, staring at the seemingly empty space that Harry occupied. Its face was oddly hairless, and blacker than coal, but its eyes were an eerie shade of green with slit pupils, like a cat.

Harry could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and he knew, by the narrowing of its strange eyes, that the creature did too.

The creature, terrifying before, became even more so when it shimmered and turned invisible. Harry couldn't hear its movements but judging by the scattered twigs and leaves on the ground between them it was clear that it was headed right for him.

With a muffled scream, Harry stumbled backwards, falling onto his rear, and waved his wand at the door. "Colloportus!" The door swung closed and locked itself, just in time too, as Harry heard the Beast slam itself against it just a second later. As Harry scrambled until his back came into contact with the wall, he heard the creature's scratches against the door quickly cease, as though it knew from experience that it would not be able to break through.

Harry took a minute, just sitting there on the ground, waiting for his racing heart to slow. Was this the test? Did Quirrell mean for him to find that thing? Harry scoffed at himself. Of course he was meant to find that thing. Why else would a Hidebehind be locked in a school?

He wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew here. Quirrell had clearly overestimated his abilities as Hidebehinds were Class XXXX Beasts. Only Beast Masters or Aurors ranked Sentry and above were permitted to deal with them alone. As much as he would like to overcome this challenge, he also knew when to recognise when a task was beyond him and secede.

At least he usually did.

Removing his cherry wood lockbox from his bag, Harry withdrew and uncorked the crystal flask that he had brought along. If he wanted to get past the Hidebehind, he was going to need all the luck in the world.

Felix Felicis looked like molten gold but tasted, rather jarringly, like apple juice. Its effects were not instantaneous, as it took a few minutes to kick in, and Harry remained slumped against the wall, wondering if a potion could lose its potency after a couple of decades, despite the stasis Runic Complex that had been placed on its flask.

It did come into effect eventually, and Harry was aware the very second it did. He had studied Liquid Luck extensively when he had come across the name in one of Terry's advanced texts, as he had recognised it from one of the many crystal flasks that had been inside his vault. Harry had memorised its effects, as drinkable, concentrated good luck seemed too good to be true.

It was only too good to be true because it was.

There was no such thing as good luck, as any instrument capable of reworking the universe's events in order to suit the personal needs of a single induvial would just be too powerful to exist, much less create with potion ingredients any wizarding student would have on hand.

No, Felix Felicis was a performance enhancing potion, the best in the world in fact. It lowered self-consciousness and doubt, instilling an artificial confidence in the drinker as well as increasing memory, social acumen, and perceptiveness. When it had first been invented some researchers theorised that it instilled passive clairvoyance in the user which allowed them to find the best path forward. While this had never been disproven, there had been too many recorded incidents of users failing at endeavours that were beyond their normal abilities for it to be true.

As Harry finally climbed to his feet, he felt a swell of self-confidence grow in his chest. He had made a silent agreement with himself to trust his instincts under Felix's influence, so if he felt the need to walk away from the door, he would do so. But he didn't. In fact, Harry thought that overcoming the Hidebehind was simplicity itself.

His previous idea had been to sneak in underneath his cloak, close the door behind him again before the Hidebehind could escape, so that he could examine the room while making sure to avoid the Beasts keen senses with his evasive spells.

Now though, he knew just what a suicidal idea that was. He could picture the Hidebehind in his mind's eye, in the exact moment the door was opened, with crystal clear clarity, as though it were frozen in front of him. The way its body stiffened, its hairs standing on end as though feeling the air around it, and the way its wide nostrils flared as it captured his scent. He especially remembered the way its eyes narrowed when it turned to face him, as though it could see him as clearly as if he were silhouetted by the light streaming through the doorway.

For a creature with senses as keen as the Hideaway's, he might as well have been. Not even the evasive spells he had learnt would help him here, as they had been made for mundane creatures, like the dogs Witch-Hunters had once trained.

Harry turned on his heel walking away, examining the Map as he went. The plan was a simple one, so simple that he couldn't believe it took Liquid Luck for him to see it. The path between himself and the kitchens was clear and when he had entered the cavernous room, the Automatons were hard at work, scrubbing the clothes that students had left in their hampers before bed, leaving them out to dry on heated racks, before ironing and folding them in neat piles.

Internally thanking Hogwarts' vast resources, he called one over. Harry waited until the floating Artifice was hovering in front of him before requesting, "Raw pig intestines, please. I'm feeling peckish so be generous." It began to float away, but Harry called after it. "Oh, and a whole bottle of Dreamless Sleep, if you don't mind. Bad nightmares."

All requests students made of the Automatons were automatically written down in their Student Handbooks, but Harry was certain that no Prefect or member of staff was going to check his journal on the last day, even though he had skipped lessons the day before. Even authority figures needed a little break, or at least that was what Felix was telling him.

Asking the Automaton to tie off one end and pour the Dreamless Sleep down the other before tying it off as well, Harry levitated the now bloated pig intestines in front of him as he made his way back to the dungeons, checking the Map as he went. He had a close encounter with Ms Norris, but a quick Confundus Charm saved him there. He hadn't even slowed his pace as he did it, so confident in his aim.

Wanting a safe distance between himself and the Hideaway, Harry remained around the corner, ready to flee as he pointed his wand at the door. "Alohomora! Arbeto!" The door unlocked and opened itself with a bang, sure to get the Beasts attention, and Harry flicked his wand twice more. "Depulso! Colloportus!" The still floating intestines flung itself into the Underground Forest just before the door slammed itself shut and locked. Harry remained around the corner until the Hideaway stopped scratching at the door, but when it did, he went to take his previous place, sitting with his back against the wall right in front of the entranceway.

He waited for a while, carefully going over the plan in his mind for any mistakes. Felix was telling him that there wouldn't be any, but Harry just needed to kill some time. According to the Auror's Enchiridion, Hideaways preferred human meat, intestines in particular, but Harry doubted that the population could sustain itself on that alone, otherwise the Aurors of North America (the Hideaway's natural habitat) were doing a terrible job. No, Harry knew that it had to enjoy the taste of animal meat too, as he doubted Quirrell had kept this creature fed with human flesh.

When it had reached the ten-minute mark, Harry climbed to his feet and approached the door, wishing he had taken the time to learn the revealing spell for magical creatures. Unlocking the door once again, Harry opened the door with a kick, a Stunning Spell ready on his lips.

It wasn't necessary.

There, directly in front of the door, was a dozing Hidebehind. Its face was slumped against the ground and one end of the intestine was hanging out of his mouth, as though the notion of sleep had taken it by surprise. For a good night's sleep, only a single mouthful was recommended for children Harry's age, and he had given the creature an entire bottle full. It was quite larger than an adult human male, but he still suspected that he had given it far too much.

Silently hoping that he hadn't accidently killed it, Harry began to bind it as Cedric had taught him. "Brachiabindo!" Following the directions of his wand, the creature's arms and legs were tied together by invisible bindings. "Locomotor!" The Hidebehind began to float to the thickest, sturdiest tree in his eyeline and Harry proceeded to wrap it to that as well.

When he finished, Harry examined his work for a moment. While physical, or even elemental bindings would have been more reliable, as the Brachiabindo Jinx was only as strong as the one who cast it, it was the only restraining spell that he had in his arsenal. Adding another thing to the already long list of things he needed to learn quickly, Harry made his way around the forest, trying to find whatever it was that Quirrell had left for him.

"Lumos Duo!" Harry directed the hovering ball of light to hover several feet above his head, illuminating the space around him, making it easier to examine both the area and the Map. Harry wasn't concerned with the possibility of other creatures waiting for him in the room as Hidebehinds were solitary predators, the top of their food chain, and they tended to fight others of their kind for hunting territory. There were no markings of violence on the sleeping Beast, so felt safe focusing on the Marauders Map.

Not that it did him much good. The space Harry was occupying seemed to be blank, but most peculiar was the way the Map was correcting that. As he watched, the Map seemed to draw the room around him, including a far smaller edge than he would have expected. Harry walked for about a minute, past dozens of trees, and bushes, before stopping when the Map told him he had reached the border. Seeing nothing but more trees in front of him, Harry carefully raised his wand, only to have the tip scrape against an invisible wall.

Harry was impressed. Touching it with his hands, it felt like the wall of any another room in the castle, the same smooth stone that had been used to build the school's exterior. The image he was looking at was incredibly lifelike, but it was just as two dimensional as a painting. The poor Hideaway must have been confused with the lack of prey, the still air and the forest that was secretly a cage. But while all of this was impressive magic on Quirrell's part, Harry didn't see what he was meant to do next.

It was a good thing he had brought along the Marauder's Map, as it was doing half of the work for him.

While he had been occupied with the elaborate animal enclosure, Harry saw that the Map had finished adding the Underground Forest to its folds, and that it had found something interesting. A second door, opposite the first.

Following the directions that were being given to him, he carefully made his way to the hidden door, extinguishing the floating ball of light as he went. Logic would suggest that there was either a prize waiting for him on the other side, some kind of trophy he could present Quirrell with that would prove he had gotten past the Hidebehind, or an even more deadly Beast that would take more power and skill to subdue.

When he found the door, half hidden behind shrubbery he had to tear away with Severing Charms, Harry took amount to assess his own condition. He was fine physically (aside from the fading, dull ache from where he had fallen onto his backside earlier) but he could already feel the strain of casting so many spells back-to-back. He could go on for a while longer, but if things continued like this, he would soon need to take a Girding Potion, which wasn't good, as he wasn't exactly sure how long this test would go on for. Maybe it was Felix just making connections that weren't actually there, but Quirrell's request for this exercise to begin after curfew suggested it would take all night. There was no way he could last that long.

Strangely, that thought made Harry smile ruefully. Even Felix Felicis can't completely counter my natural pessimism.

Casting the usual chain of detection spells, Harry knew that the door had the same protections as the first one (which is to say, almost none at all) and that there was Dark Magic waiting for him on the other side.

Cautiously, Harry unlocked and opened the door, only to be met with warm, humid air and complete darkness on the other side. Not letting his sudden apprehension stop him, Harry pointed his wand through the doorway. "Periculum!" A fiery ball of red light exploded out of the end of his wand, squealing as it rocketed into the dark room, illuminating it as it went before exploding into scarlet fireworks three seconds later.

Three seconds was more than enough time for Harry to slam the door shut when he caught a glimpse of what was waiting for him on the other side.

Malspores.

"Scourgify! Scourgify! Scourgify!" Frantic, Harry repeatedly cast the Scouring Charm over his entire body, not forgetting the bottom of his boots either. While it was unlikely that one of the spores had landed on him, he didn't want to take the chance.

Finally, when he was sure that he was clean, he began to wonder how he would make it across that room. He would need to hang around long enough for the Marauder's Map to find the exit and judging by how long it had taken to fill in the gap that was the Underground Forest, it could take a few minutes.

Harry carefully ignored the possibility that the prize he was seeking was actually in the next room.

He retreated to a safe distance and levitated the Marauder's Map in front of the door. Wincing, Harry opened the door and banished the Map inside before slamming it shut again. Hoping he didn't just lose the crown jewel and legacy of Hogwarts' greatest troublemakers, Harry began to prepare for his, hopefully brief, expedition into the next room.

Malspores was a plant Harry knew little about. He had never read about it, and likely would have forgotten its existence if it weren't for the Liquid Luck that was coursing through his system, struggling to keep him alive against his own recklessness.

During the first week of school, all the way back in September, Professor Sprout had taken them for a tour through all seven greenhouses and she had pointed out one particular plant that she kept in a separate section of Greenhouse Seven. She had told them all about Malspores, how they were invented by the Dark Sage Ekrizidis, the Father of Dementors, to protect his home, the island of Azkaban, from marooned sailors.

What made them so terrible, was how they attacked Muggles and sorcerers in different ways. For a non-magical person, they simply incapacitated them by tightening their airways, leaving them alive, but only just, so that Ekrizidis could send his House-Elves to fetch his latest test subjects with ease.

However, for their magical counterparts, it was a different, more violating experience. The spores released by the moist, inky black mushrooms caused an intense sickness in its victims. Most did not survive, but those that did often wished that they hadn't. Malspores were the only known method of turning a wizard into a Muggle.

Feeling crazy for even risking an infection, Harry stored his Invisibility Cloak away and began to take precautions for his run through the next room. "Impervius!" Harry cast this several times over himself, from his hair and bag to his clothes and boots. In fact, the only place he had not cast it on was his wand, but Harry didn't know how to cast spells on the instrument he was casting with.

Knowing that light only made them release more spores into the air, Harry removed his first pair of Quidditch goggles from his bag. These were the same pair that Anthony had enchanted for him back in February to help him see better in the dark when he snuck into Gryffindor tower. Harry had to get a replacement pair as Professor Hooch checked each player's equipment for tampering, as well as testing them with diagnostic charms for performance enhancing potions, before every match.

While Anthony had done a good job with it, the night vision feature had only been intended for a single use. Harry had tested it out several times since then, and while it had worked just fine, Felix was telling him that they would likely stop working and that he should find an alternative method. While ignoring the instincts a potion named Liquid Luck instilled in you was a bad idea, Harry couldn't see another way around.

Ignoring the idea to wake Anthony and ask him to fix up another pair, Harry slipped them on before opening the door, still standing at a safe distance. "Accio Map!" When the folded parchment sailed through the door, Harry cast another Locking Charm on the door, which deliberately killed the Summoning Charm halfway.

Grimacing in disgust, Harry could see from here that half of the Map was covered in oozing black slime. "Scourgify!" Perhaps it was the compulsive need for everything in his world to be clean and neat, or perhaps it was because he thought even non-magical mushrooms were kind of gross, but Harry only felt comfortable approaching the Map when he cast the Scouring Charm three more times.

Picking it up, Harry saw that the room had indeed been filled out, but it was much worse than he could have imagined. Unlike the Underground Forest, which was the size and shape of the Small Hall, the Malspore Room was narrow and long. So bloody long.

Assuming the dimensions were to scale, the distance from the door Harry was standing at to the other at the end of the other room had to be at least five times the length of the Great Hall. That would mean almost a half mile run.

Harry wasn't sure if anyone could hold their breath for that long. He certainly couldn't.

Removing the sock that he had wrapped around the crystal flask that had contained the Felix Felicis earlier, Harry used a Severing Charm to cut it in a way that would make it long enough for him to tie it around his mouth and nose in a awkward looking facemask. He still didn't know how to transfigure clothes, and it made for a poor filter for spores, but it was the best he was going to do. Harry was just grateful it was a clean pair.

Taking a minute to take a dozen slow, deep breaths to oxygenate his blood, Harry lifted his makeshift scarf over his airways and pointed his wand at the door. "Alohomora! Arbeto!" The second the door burst open Harry ran through, flicking his wand behind him. "Colloportus!" Even though that cost him some precious oxygen, Harry didn't want the Hidebehind to get sick. It was just a dumb animal.

Harry sprinted through the room as quickly as he could. The soil beneath his feet was moist, spongy and covered in the same slime that the Map had been which made it difficult to run at top speed. The entire room was covered with a soft glow, as though everything in the room was emitting a gentle light, but Harry knew it was just his goggles helping him see in the pitch darkness.

He couldn't see everything though, as anything further than twenty feet from his face was invisible to him. Despite this he wasn't worried about a sudden attack from a lurking Beast, as nothing could survive in this room and still be in the condition necessary to attack him. As such, he didn't bother keeping his head on a swivel.

He really should have.

Harry felt his ankle catch on something, making him fly forward, his momentum carrying him for a few feet. What little breath he had left forcefully left his body as he slammed into the spongy ground and slid forward, carried by the slime, before coming to a complete stop. While the fall tore the Map from his grasp, it was only the experience he had gained by training with Quirrell and the Silver Spears that allowed him to keep a firm grip on his wand when he fell.

Your wand is your lifeline!

Eliza's words came back to him now, and they had never been more apt. "Accio Map!" Harry caught the Map, uncaring about the slime for the moment, as the fact that his position was still legible was all that mattered to him. He could see the label Harry Potter not even halfway to the exit he desired. Repressing the cry of despair that welled up within him, he instead climbed to his feet and kept running, keeping his breaths as short and intermittent as possible, not wanting to make his position even worse than it was.

It must have been a least two minutes since he had started running again, and Harry had all but given up on keeping his breaths short. He felt a splitting stitch on his side and his muscles were burning, but he increased his pace even more when he finally caught a glimpse of the door that he had been running so hard for.

Uncaring about what was waiting for him on the other side, or what traps may have been placed on the door, Harry jabbed his wand forwards and bellowed hoarsely, "Alohomora! Arbeto!" The door flung itself open and Harry dived through, landing on the hard ground roughly, and closing the door while he rolled with a spat out Locking Charm.

Momentarily forgetting where he was, Harry scampered backwards until he had his back to the wall, but he didn't bother with checking his surroundings. No, instead he began to clean himself and his belongings as quickly as he could. "Scourgify! Scourgify! Scourgify!" Harry cast it over and over again, only stopping when his skin began to feel a little raw. When he could no longer see any traces of spores or slime, Harry began to try and heal himself.

According to Professor Jones, when coming into contact with a contaminated or poisonous substance it was always best to act as though you are in danger, even if it turned out you were not. A Healer cannot see to their patients if they became sick themselves. Harry closed his eyes for a moment in order to calm himself down, before beginning to work on himself.

Harry tipped his head back as far he could manage and gently tapped his wand against his throat. "Anapneo!" His breathing, which had felt a little ragged after his half mile run through hell, now felt easier as his throat felt both fresh and clear, as though he had just consumed a trolley's worth of peppermints and ice lollies.

Not trusting his senses alone, Harry needed to check for himself. "Aura Incantatem!" Similar to the Verdimillious Charm, this charm released a shower of sparks, white instead of green, and it was used to detect magic that was affecting a living being. It was an incredibly useful little spell, one that was used in a variety of professions, but it didn't work on everything. However, according to The Dark Arts Outsmarted if this ever happened to you, then you had bigger things to worry about than a failing spell.

The white sparks showered over him, tickling what little skin his duelling uniform left exposed, but they didn't linger. Harry felt relieved when his mouth, nose, throat, and chest remained free of sparks. There were no lingering spores on his body, but that didn't mean there was nothing within.

Thanking his own need to study ahead, Harry finally cast the Diagnostic Charm over himself. "Vides Corpori!" A colourful, three-dimensional image of his own body shimmered out of him and came to rest opposite him, sitting exactly as he was. Harry controlled the image, turning the skin translucent so he could examine the internal organs, the lungs in particular.

After a few minutes, in which he searched his entire respiratory system for anything unusual, anything he hadn't seen before, Harry finally began to accept that he was fine. He allowed the image to fade away with a muttered, "Finite Incantatem!" and climbed to his feet.

Finally tearing off the ridiculous makeshift scarf, Harry stuffed it into his bag, before checking that he hadn't dropped anything inside the Malspore Room. No, of course he hadn't. Otherwise, Harry would have had words with Dave of Scribbulus' Writing Instruments, and it wouldn't have been fun for anyone. Harry finally did then what he should have done the moment he had entered the room and began to check his surroundings.

As it turned out, it wasn't a room at all. It was an intersection.

Lifting his goggles for a moment, Harry allowed them to drop back down on his face before tightening them. The long narrow entrance way he was standing in was pitch black and so was the intersection up ahead. Harry cast the usual detection spells, but when nothing came through, he sat back down.

Feeling more comfortable now that he had assured that he wasn't about to be attacked by something waiting for him in the darkness, Harry allowed himself to relax and took some time to recharge. He was in no hurry, as Quirrell hadn't seen fit to set him a time limit. So, he simply reached into his bag and pulled out the two wrapped sandwiches he had taken from the kitchens earlier and a bottle of cherry soda. Harry stretched his legs out while he ate, wishing he knew a spell to make the ground underneath him softer.

When he was done, Harry drank one of the Girding Potions in order to replenish his depleted Mana Reserves. It was an incredibly pungent and foul-tasting concoction, but it was incredibly useful in times like these. It helped extend what little Mana a person had, as well as turning what energy their body could provide, such as fat, into ready to use Mana almost instantaneously. However, the maximum dosage was two vials and no more for at least several weeks, in order to give the body enough time to recover and restore its natural process of turning sustenance into usable Mana.

Harry kept one vial in reserve, but he promised himself that he would only use it if absolutely necessary. He didn't think the test could go on for much longer, or at least he hoped not. He hadn't brought any more food.

Harry moved forward, not bothering to cast a Wand-Lighting Charm just in case he actually wasn't alone. Stepping into the path that diverged into two separate directions, right or left, he spent a moment examining each wide, high ceilinged path before concluding that he couldn't tell the difference between either one of them. Laying his wand along the flat of his gloved palm, Harry whispered, "Point me!", but the wand span uselessly until he cancelled the charm.

Sighing in frustration, Harry was about to pick a path using the tried-and-true method of eeny, meeny, miny, moe, when he felt the tiniest of breezes against his cheek. Felix Felicis was working overtime as it helped him remember something that he had half heard from an adventure movie Dudley had been watching on the television while he was reading in his cupboard years ago. The hero had found his way out of the tunnels the villain had trapped him in by sucking on his finger and following the direction the wind was coming from.

Instead of sucking on his finger, Harry just walked down the right path as he had felt the breeze on his right cheek. Wary of any sudden attack, Harry held his wand out in front of him while he walked so that he was immediately ready for any kind of attack, but this grew painful after a few minutes, so he lowered it eventually, rubbing his sore arm.

The walk was a long one, so long in fact that he was now almost hoping that something would attack him, just to settle his nerves. The lack of any kind of obstacle was actually starting to frighten him as it left him unsure of whether or not he was still in the middle of a test. Had he stumbled onto the wrong path? Did the Malspore Room have another exit that the Map failed to show?

Just as he was about to turn back and risk an examination of the Malspore Room, Harry saw an ethereal, silvery light up ahead. An exhale of pure relief left his mouth as he hurried forward. "Quietus!" he whispered as he ran towards the light, not wanting to alert any possible predators waiting in the room up ahead.

He needn't have worried, as the path didn't open up into a room at all.

Harry skidded to a stop the second he emerged from the path, as the silvery light had almost blinded him to the wide chasm that was directly in front of the opening. Looking upwards, Harry saw a damp, rocky walls that led straight to a fissure on the surface that was open to the night sky. The ethereal, slivery light that he had seen was the glow of the full moon.

The mere sight of it had Harry in a sudden panic, snapping his head back to earth, turning and pointing his wand in every direction. Considering everything else that he had experienced tonight, Harry was momentarily terrified that Quirrell had decided to use a Werewolf as another obstacle for Harry's test.

After a few moments, he realised how ridiculous he was being and lowered his wand. There was no way that Quirrell could convince a Werewolf, a perfectly ordinary human being for most of the month, to be trapped underground when their instincts yearned for open air. Especially if it was for a mere test. How would it benefit them? Besides, there was no space for a Werewolf to lurk in wait for its prey, as the fissure continued from the surface, past Harry's skinny little ledge all the way down into the darkness.

Fearing what he was going to illuminate after the Malspores, Harry knelt and pointed his wand over the edge. "Periculum!" The fiery, red ball hurtled from the end of his wand with a familiar squeal and shot into the blackness. After a few seconds it exploded, and much to Harry's confusion, it only served to illuminate the same damp rocky walls that were above him.

Harry stood back up, thinking hard. There was an opening across the chasm, directly across from the one he was standing on, but it was at least a hundred, maybe even hundred and fifty feet away. Was this the obstacle? Finding his way safely across? Because, he had to admit to himself, even with Liquid Luck, he was struggling to see a path forward. The walls above him were too sheer and wet to climb safely, even if he knew how to rock climb at all, and he had no idea how far down the chasm went so that was even less safe. Perhaps he would be able to transfigure a makeshift bridge with the help of Felix, but he had nothing to work with aside from a torn-up sock.

Admitting defeat, Harry turned back to the path he had come from. Maybe he would be able to find another way forward from the path that he had refused to walk down earlier. If not, he would have to call it quits.

Harry gave another sigh of frustration as he walked down the same painfully long path as earlier. It had been bad enough before, but now that he was going to walk right past the Malspore Room at the intersection, Harry felt like he was more likely to die from the monotonous trek than from any of the obstacles.

Harry glanced at his watch as he crossed the intersection and wasn't surprised to see that it had just passed one o'clock in the morning. The preparations he had made to overcome each obstacle had been lengthy and time consuming, but none more so than the simple act of walking.

Still, when Felix shot a jolt of adrenaline through his system, Harry was made aware that he should be on high alert as he was now in unfamiliar territory. As he walked, he refrained from holding his wand up again as he didn't want to have another sore arm which might prevent him from defending himself.

However, this caution proved for naught once more as he continued walking for minutes on end with no sign of movement or natural impediment like the chasm in his sight. Harry's vigilance was finally confirmed to be pointless as he reached a dead end, and with it his frustration peaked. He refrained from kicking the wall, as he didn't want to injure himself, but that didn't stop him from throwing his head back and swearing to the ceiling above.

Harry quickly wished that he had kept his mouth shut.

Harry turned on his heel, wand arm first, when he heard a rumbling movement behind him. As though awoken by the sound of his clear exasperation, dozens of giant stone Golems began to melt from the rocky walls, before stepping on to the path in two single files. Each Golem was the size of Hagrid, wearing armour and carrying shields designed with the Hogwarts crest, and they each carried either a spear or an axe.

Harry was mostly frightened by his predicament, but a tiny part of him was annoyed that he was going to be attacked by animated Artifices wearing his own school's crest. Like he was an invader, a trespasser or something.

The nearest Golem moved in with alarming swiftness, raising its axe high above its head, clearly aiming to split Harry right down the middle. Forcefully ignoring the pit of panic that was growing in his stomach, Harry raised his own wand just in time to match it. "Expelliarmus!" He cried out, and the force of his Disarming Charm was powerful enough to rip the axe right from the Golem's stone grip, sending it spinning backwards where it met, and destroyed, the second Golem that was approaching him.

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have tried for a Blasting Curse and transfigured the debris into weapons he could use, but Liquid Luck reared its head once more. It would be much safer to simply steal the weapons that were attacking him for his own arsenal.

The first Golem was still approaching him menacingly, even without its weapon, but it stopped dead when Harry cast, "Confundo!" The knowledge that the Confundus Charm could be used on enchanted objects had slipped his mind, but his new favourite performance enhancement had brought it right back to the forefront at the perfect moment. Better yet, Harry knew that it would be easier than it normally would be to take control of these animated guardians, as the enchantment had been split between dozens, maybe even hundreds of them. This was clearly the work of a Master of Transfiguration, but Harry was willing to bet that with their spell's focus split among so many targets, that his far more focused willpower could overcome theirs. At least for one or two of the Golems.

He was right. The Golem did not just freeze, it shuddered in the way all confounded victims seemed to and in that brief window, Harry let his will be known. Protect me, he thought desperately, you exist only to protect me.

The Golem turned swiftly on its heel, keeping arm behind its back to protect Harry while it began to wrestle with the third Golem. Harry, quickly realising that his weapon-less protector was useless without a weapon, decided to trade it in for a better model. Aiming his wand at the small of the Golem's back, Harry firmly said, "Depulso!" and watched it fly forward down the pathway, taking the third Golem with it.

Harry didn't have time to breath, because while the fourth and fifth Golems were tangled amongst the first and the third, several others were climbing over to get to him. "Confringo! Protego!" He bellowed, and the tangled heap of Golems was destroyed in a fiery explosion. The Shield Charm protected him from debris, but the entire tunnel shuddered, and Harry realised what a stupid idea it was to blow something up when he was trapped underground with it.

Not lingering on that thought, Harry was ready to move on. "Deletrius!" Harry had only ever used the Eradication Spell to counter his Smokescreen Spells, but it worked well in clearing his limited air from the dust that rose from the explosion, as well as freeing his vision for the upcoming offensive.

"Confundo!" Harry cast that spell four times on the nearest undamaged Golems, before stepping forward and allowing them to form a defensive formation around his body. Silently commanding them to move forward, they proceeded back down the pathway, fighting all the Golems who got in their way.

While the two in the front pushed forward as quickly as possible, creating a path in which the other three could follow, the two in the back did their best to protect Harry from any Golems that were in a good enough shape to attack them while they passed. Meanwhile, Harry would use the Brachiabindo Jinx or Banishing Charm on any Golems that were quick enough to jab at him in the miniscule gaps his protectors had left in their formation.

It wasn't an easy journey, far from it in fact. There were many close calls, so many in fact that Harry began to wonder if his heart would simply find a new home for itself in his neck as it jumped into his throat so frequently during their trek.

Once, a Golem that only had its legs destroyed, but was still whole enough to attack, fell on its side while they moved past it. It must have seen an opportunity as it poked its sharp, stone spear through the gaps in the Golems legs and stabbed at Harry's calf. If it weren't for his Silver Spears uniform Harry would have been forced to kiss that leg goodbye. As it was, while the uniform had been enchanted to never cut or tear, and to dull physical blows, it was still as pliable as any clothing fabric so the force behind it still tore Harry's muscles to shreds.

Feeling as if he had just been shot in the leg, Harry screamed out in pain as he collapsed forward. It was only by a miracle that the Golems he had confounded interpreted protect me as get me out of here instead of protect me only from physical harm, because when he fell forward the Golem to his forward left quickly knelt and allowed him to land on its back instead of the ground. Before he realised what was happening, the Golem stood again and continued moving forward with the others, leaving Harry to loop his arms around its neck as to not fall off.

Harry watched for a moment, amazed that the four Golems were working so well together without thorough instructions from him, but he was forced to snap out of it quickly as another Golem sought to attack him while he was vulnerable. "Expelliarmus!"

While the spear that had been aiming directly for his face was flung out of the Golem's grip, and his own ride started smashing it to pieces with both axe and fist, Harry realised that this new position left him terribly exposed. Ignoring the uncomfortably hot, pulsating, pain that was emanating from his left calf, Harry pointed his wand at three more Golems in quick succession. "Confundo!"

Harry let out an annoyed grunt, because while two more Golems fell under his control, three was beyond his limit of concentration. Still, six in total was better than four, and he took pleasure in binding the one who had resisted him in invisible ropes so his confounded guardians could destroy it.

It was an easier journey from that point. Not at all safe though, just easier. Two Golems in the front and back and one on the right side while the kept their left close to the wall. Harry was still being given a piggyback ride by the Golem in the middle which left him safe from another low attack like last time.

It took several more minutes of the seven of them working as a unit, with Harry being forced to replace Golems with new ones when they were destroyed or were too damaged to be of any use to him, until the Malspore intersection came within sight. Harry felt a wave of relief when he noticed that there were no new Golems beyond that point.

Wanting to cut off reprisal attacks from the Golems that they hadn't managed to destroy completely, Harry forced the one carrying him to break into a run while the others held off the ones they were still fighting. When he was almost at the intersection, Harry jabbed his wand over his shoulder, pointing it right at the roof behind him, and shouted, "Confringo!"

The whole tunnel rumbled when the high ceiling caved in due to the fiery explosion. Most of the Golems behind them were either trapped behind the ensuing cave in or crushed underneath a small mountain of rocks. There was only half a dozen more that had either escaped the cave in or were up ahead, but with Confundus Charms at his disposal, he made quick work of them.

Instructing all but the Golem that was carrying him to smash each other into fragments, Harry had his sole remaining animated protector gently put him on the ground in front of the Malspore Room, pausing only to clear the air of the dust from the second underground explosion that he had caused that night.

Harry winced as he stretched his injured leg. The Golem piggyback ride had not been as fun as it normally should have been, as he had been intensely focused on keeping his leg immobile during their trek so he could avoid the pain. It had been a futile endeavour.

Harry gritted his teeth as he unbuckled his boot and gently pulled it off. This entire night has been a futile endeavour.

At first, when he first glimpsed the Hidebehind, Harry had been a little flattered that his favourite teacher thought so highly of his abilities, that he thought Harry, a mere First Year, could handle a Class XXXX creature on his own. Then came the Malspores, which he had thought were some kind of mistake on Quirrell's part, but the Golems were what made him realise that he didn't belong down here. Those animated Artifices had been aiming to kill, so either Harry and Eliza had accidently swapped envelopes, or this was not the test that Quirrell had designed for him.

Still, it wasn't like he had much choice but to continue forwards. With his leg injured and swelling, there was no way he was going to be able to run through the Malspore Room again. He needed to press on and hope that there was an exit at the end of this gauntlet.

Waving his wand over himself, he cast the Diagnostic Charm, "Vides Corpori!" Examining the mirror image of his calf, Harry could clearly see that the muscles there had been torn to shreds and it was only going to get more swollen.

After rolling up the leg of his hose, Harry reached into his bag for the snuffbox he had filled with the remnants of the Bruise-Healing Ointment that he had brewed during his Healing exam. Before using it, he took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind and fill himself with the easy confidence that Felix Felicis had instilled in him earlier. While he had never cast the spell himself, he had seen Madam Pomfrey use it plenty of times after practice when he, or one of his teammates, had strained themselves on their broomsticks during practice. Pointing his wand at his calf, Harry whispered, "Momordi Recesus!" as he gently moved his wand back and forth over the affected area.

Harry let out a startled breath of relief went he felt the pain in his calf lessen, but not completely disappear like it did when Pomfrey did it. Still, feeling hopeful, he began to rub the swollen area with the Bruise-Healing Ointment and slumped with relief when the burning pain finally stopped.

Harry took off his bag and slumped to the side, using it as a pillow while he waited for the ointment to do its work. It must have been two in the morning by the time he felt strong enough to move on, but not before applying another layer of ointment and pulling out his torn sock out from his bag.

"Engorgio!" Harry watched while the sock grew long enough to wrap around his leg as a makeshift bandage. Tight to stop swelling, Harry remembered Hestia saying, but not too tight or it'll just cause swelling beneath the bandage. Harry was sure she had never intended for her students to use torn up old socks as makeshift bandages, but while he knew the correct spell for it, conjuration was far beyond him.

Silently asking the still confounded Golem to help him up, Harry tested his leg and was pleased to find that while it wasn't entirely healed, all that remained from the sharp, white-hot pain was a dull throbbing ache. Testing his movements, he decided that while he would be able to walk on it, he should allow the ointment to complete its work and let the Golem continue to carry him.

After he had put his boot back on, he climbed on his silent protector's back for a second time, he cast, "Locomotor!" on the largest pieces of the smashed Golems and had them follow him down the tunnel, towards the wide chasm.

When they reached the thin ledge from earlier, Harry had the Golem put him down. Waving his wand at the rubble he had floated along with him, Harry murmured, "Supellex!" and watched as they pulled themselves together before transfiguring into a sturdy wooden chair.

Harry grimaced. After practicing this spell for W.O.M.B. he hadn't bothered perfecting it like he usually did as comfortable seating was aplenty in the castle. That was probably going to come back and bite him now that he needed it to hold a much heavier recipient. Tapping the chair with his wand, he reinforced it with, "Fianto Duri!"

Ordering his Golem to sit in the chair, Harry held his breath the moment its stone backside made contact with the wood, but aside from some creaking, the chair held together. "Don't move at all." Harry instructed the Golem, before swishing his wand and pointing it over the chasm. "Locomotor!"

Even though Felix Felicis assured him that his idea would work, Harry was still both shocked and pleased when, instead of immediately falling into the darkness below, the Golem simply floated on towards the other ledge across the chasm. Harry could have simply floated the Golem across with the charm, but he needed to test if the chair would be able to carry a heavy weight without the ground being inches away. After all, levitation was a lot harder the higher up you were.

Instructing the Golem to get off the chair and wait for him by the next door, Harry returned the chair to him with a less strenuous Summoning Charm. Examining the chair, Harry was forced to use a Mending Charm on it after discovering several cracks along the seat and its legs. When he had cast a second Unbreakable Charm on the chair, Harry sat on it backwards so that he could grip onto the backrest with his free hand.

For the second time in as many minutes, Harry swished his wand at the chair and pointed it across to the other ledge. "Locomotor!" Harry repressed a yelp as the chair took off much quicker than it had with the Golem, as though it sensed his reluctance to spend a second longer than he had to over the deep chasm.

This was rather unfortunate as Harry almost immediately slipped off, as his left hand was slick with sweat from his nerves. He didn't have an especially prevalent fear of heights like Terry, as he never would have mounted a broomstick recreationally if he did, but there was a substantial difference between a state-of-the-art racing broom like the Nimbus 2000 and a mediocre transfigured chair that was hovering on a Locomotion Charm.

As though sensing his doubt, the chair dipped dramatically by a few feet and when Harry yelped it fell even further. Knowing that strict emotional control was necessary for maintaining even the mildest of spells, Harry immediately gave up on the Locomotion Charm, knowing he wouldn't be able to get it back to the height he needed it to be in before he hit the rocky wall face first.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The chair shot straight up with Harry still on it. As he was about to rocket past the ledge, a stone arm grabbed him and pulled him into the safety of its stone arms. Just in the nick of time too, as the chair continued its course directly upwards, scraping against the rocky wall above which broke the charm.

From the Golem's arms, Harry watched with a racing heart as the chair fell past him into the dark abyss. The bottom was so far down, that even when listening carefully, he could not hear the wooden chair finally hit it.

Harry glanced up at the Golem and repressed the urge to thank it. For the second time that night, it had reacted to Harry's need for protection without being given a conscious order. As grateful as Harry was to have it around, he needed to remember that it wasn't actually alive, it was just another tool in his arsenal, and when necessary, Harry would have to sacrifice it in order to get himself out of here.

"Put me down." The Golem immediately obeyed, and Harry turned away from it, searching for the next door.

He was no longer the lonely boy from Little Whinging that needed to personify inanimate objects for company. That had been a whole other lifetime ago.

Approaching the door that was hidden in shadow away from the ledge, Harry cast his usual series of revealing spells and he only discovered the same information that he had from each door he had already tried this on tonight: That nothing sinister had been cast on the doors, that there was Dark Magic or a Beast waiting for him on the other side and that there were no other humans around.

With a few words, Harry opened the door and examined it briefly. He had caught a glimpse of a large room, about the size of the Great Hall, with a door directly ahead. He had closed it with such haste because the sound of the door opening had roused room's sleeping inhabitants. The second they had caught sight of him, they began to roar.

Trolls. Two of them. Chained to the exit. Larger and more menacing the one he and Michael had fought back on Halloween.

Gathering his courage, he prepared himself for another fight when he crossed the threshold. Glancing up towards the Golem, he told it, "I need you to charge into the room in front of me. Fight both Trolls and distract them from my approach until I manage to catch up to you." The Golem seemed to understand his orders as it faced the door, bending its knees as though it were about to race, ready to charge in the second he opened the door. It was a good thing that at least one of them was capable of running, as Harry needed some time to get to the other side on his injured leg.

"Arbeto!" The moment the door was flung open the Golem charged in, brandishing its axe over its head in an attempt to seem intimidating. Harry knew that if it possessed a voice, it would be screaming a war cry as it charged the Trolls. It needn't have put in so much effort, as the two fifteen-foot Trolls were focused on it from the moment it stepped into the room.

Harry followed as quickly as he could manage, not wanting to leave the Golem to fight them alone. It was only around eight feet tall, and if left to fight two Beasts that were each twice its size, it wouldn't stand a chance. Normally, when someone was forced to fight someone who was much larger than them, they made good use of their speed or environment, choosing to fight with their smarts instead of brute strength.

Unfortunately, inanimate objects could only be as smart as the one who controlled them allowed them to be, and Harry had not made any attempt to let the Golem fight with anything other than brute strength. As such, when it charged in to confront the Trolls, it only lasted as long as it took Harry to reach the room's hallway point.

He froze when the Golem's head, the largest piece remaining, landed by his feet. As he watched the featureless face slowly spin to a stop, the Trolls roared out to him, as if throwing down a challenge. One of the monsters was chewing on one of the Golem's severed arms like a teething infant.

Harry smiled savagely in return. He wasn't the same fighter he had been in October.

He quickly pointed his wand at the chains that were binding the Troll on the left, the one with the stone arm between its teeth, and spat out, "Oppugno!" Following the direction of his intent, the chains pulled themselves taught, yanking the Troll off of its feet and dragging it back towards the door it was meant to be guarding. Before it could stand back up, the now loose length of chain wrapped itself around the Troll's neck and began to strangle it.

The second Troll dimly watched as its fellow guard was dragged back to the door and begun to have the life choked out of it before it thought to do something. Not realising that the small human that had walked into its domain was responsible, it decided that bending down and roaring at the attacking chains was the best thing to do. The Troll that was being strangled seemed startled that its partner was screaming in its ear, as it let go of the chain with one hand to hit the other Troll in the face.

Shaking his head at the idea that one of these creatures had once been a threat to him, Harry flicked his wand at the chains that were holding the second Troll to the wall. "Emancipare!" The lock that was holding it to the wall came loose, and Harry allowed it to charge at him, as his aim still wasn't all that great, and he needed to hit it in the eyes with his next spell. The Troll's skin was too resistant to magic of a certain level.

When he was close enough to see his own reflection in its dark bug eyes, Harry cast "Carpe Noctem!" The jet-black spell left his wand faster than any other spell he had ever cast before, as though his Blackthorn wand enjoyed his daring. The Nightmare Hex hit the Troll right in its eye, making it slow down just enough for Harry to jump out of the way of its stampeding path.

Harry got to his feet, wincing at a thrill of pain that emanated from his injured leg all the way up his left side, just in time to watch the second Troll's dilemma. The Nightmare Hex forced it to experience its greatest fear, and for a creature that was at the top of its food chain like a Troll, that could only be an attack from members of the same species. Trapped in an underground room with nowhere to flee, it had to fall back on the latter half of the flight or fight response, and there was only one other Troll in the room.

The first Troll had only just managed to snap the chain in half, its rabid desperation managing to overcome whatever enchantments had been placed on it. Harry watched the Troll, rubbing its throat and weakly growling at the chains, just stand there with no idea of what was headed its way. It soon did though, as a two tonne monstrosity leapt onto its back and proceeded to savagely beat it to death.

Harry, who had been angry at his current circumstances, had juvenilely decided to take it out on the Trolls. But as he watched the second Troll tear apart the first in a manic fury, he regretted it almost immediately. Unfortunately, it was far too late to stop the events that he had put into motion, as the first Troll had its arm torn off and was beaten to a violent, gory death with it not one minute later.

All he wanted to do was close his eyes and turn away, but he didn't want to take his eyes of the second Troll, afraid that it would attack him the second it was done with its partner. It was a good thing he realised that, as the Troll stood, covered in the deep blue blood of its former partner, and began to look for another threat. When its eyes fell on Harry, he reacted quickly, taking no pleasure in the act this time.

"Oppugno! Oppugno!" Both the broken chains of its recently deceased companion and the intact set that had, until recently, been holding it to the wall, flew forward in order to wrap themselves around its limbs and throat. The Troll fell, still in a panic because of the Nightmare Hex, but with its limbs bound it was unable to loosen the chains around its throat.

It was dead in minutes.

Harry fell onto his backside, breathing deeply, and not just out of exhaustion either. What was happening to him? A few hours underneath the school and he was killing living creatures in order to work out his frustrations? Harry wished that he could promise himself that he would never do something like that again, but aside from the visceral end, he had enjoyed the process of fighting. In a sick, twisted way, it was the most fun he had ever had. More fun than rule breaking with the Marauders. Even more fun than hanging out with his friends.

Distantly, Harry was glad that he had eaten the sandwiches hours ago now, as he wouldn't have had the appetite for it after what he had just witnessed. After what he had just caused. He shouldn't try to forget that he was wholly responsible for what had just occurred in this room.

Climbing to his feet, Harry began to make his way to the door, taking care to avoid the troll remains that littered this side of the room, and pausing only to bring the broken remains of the Golem with him. Pausing only to check the door and the next room as best as he could, Harry opened the door and groaned at what he saw waiting for him. It was not a creature, or a plant this time.

It was mist. Just cloudy grey mist.

Harry didn't bother closing the door, doubting that the mist could enter the room. The doors weren't airtight so whoever created this hellish labyrinth had enchanted the doorway to hold back the mist in order to prevent it from hurting the Trolls.

Not that it did them much good, Harry thought darkly.

Removing the wrapping paper he had used on the sandwiches from his bag, Harry cast "Avifors!" over them, turning them both into paper crows. Harry moved his wand forwards, towards the Mist Room, and the paper crows soared inside. After a minute, Harry directed them back inside the Troll Room, and the flew back and landed in front of him.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his leg, Harry crouched down in order to examine them closely. He couldn't find a shred of damage on either bird, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. There were some curses that only affected flesh, and Harry was not willing to tear off one of his limbs in order to test if the mist was safe.

He glanced back at the two dead Trolls and sighed.

A minute later, Harry levitated the severed Troll arm into the Mist Room using the Mobilicorpus Charm, and after a few minutes he levitated it back out in order to examine it. Similar to the paper crows, there was no sign of damage on the arm. If the mist was poisonous then it was probably only deadly for humans. Same goes for any possible predator that was lurking in there too.

Too tired to bother with gathering his nerve this time around, Harry simply walked right into the Mist Room with his wand held high.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He was drowning.

The water around him was dark and freezing and the only illumination that he had was the distant blue light, far, far above. Harry was not the strongest swimmer at the best of times, a suburban boy whose only experience in water was the weekly swimming lessons they had every June and July at St. Greggs, but now in the open water, being strangled by dozens of long, strong fingers, he didn't stand a chance.

It was only his desperate need to survive that had stopped him from succumbing, but it was a vicious cycle. Every time the greyish-green, chimpanzee sized creatures managed to claw enough of his skin and flesh off, tainting the water around them with his blood, Harry considered giving up, if only to spare himself more pain.

But then he would remember that old childhood fear, originating from his brief desire to be a pirate after Lupin had given him Treasure Island to read, was to drown in a large body of water. His body lost, without any kind of marking left on land that a boy called Harry Potter had once existed, and the guardians that were supposed to care about him would move on with their lives with ease, never even noticing that he was gone.

And then he would begin to fight against the creatures once more, tooth and nail, desperate to survive. Until the pain grew too great and he began to give up all over again.

It was a vicious cycle.

Deeper and deeper, he sank, his pain and fear overwhelming, never ending, maddening- wait why aren't I dead yet?

That single rational thought snapped him out of it.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He opened his eyes, catching the briefest glimpse of a wide, wooded, mountainous environment, before something enormous and dark pounced at him, and only instinct, borne from months of evading Bludgers, made him roll away.

Without bothering to climb to his feet, Harry cast "Protego!" and the impossibly fast creature slammed headfirst into his Shield Charm and ricocheted from it. Scrambling to his feet now that he was momentarily safe, Harry examined his enemy.

It was a panther. Or rather, something awfully close to it.

Its thick coat of fur was so black that it seemed to absorb the light around it. From its mouth came two large curving teeth, like a Sabre-Toothed Tiger, and it had six powerful legs, each ending in massive paws with long claws scraping at the ground. But its most interesting feature were it large, luminous green eyes. They were magnetic almost, pulling him in, demanding eye contact-

Harry forced himself to look at the creature's legs instead of its eyes as the savagely strong Legilimency attack he felt battering into his mind helped him understand what he was facing.

A Wampus.

A horrifically powerful Beast, native to North America like the Hideaway before it, the Wampus was both incredibly fast, strong, and worst of all, capable of using Legilimency on its prey. It was terribly good at stunning its victims with visions of their worst fear, trapping them in realm of their own creation, and swiftly killing them before their terror tainted the meat.

Harry now knew that he hadn't even managed one step into the room before the Wampus had sunk its claws into his mind. There was no mist, as it was just an illusion conjured by the Beast in order to hide its presence in the room from him.

Harry could feel a building sensation of fear come up from his stomach, all the way up to his chest at the idea of fighting this creature. Only Aurors with a mastery in the Mind Arts were permitted to do so alone, and Harry's extent of knowledge in the field was limited to a couple of Illusion and Compulsion spells and the ability to know when someone was taking a peek in his mind, and even that was faulty.

Worst of all, the Wampus was an intelligent creature. Incapable of speech, yes, but it knew how to capture its prey, as it quickly proved by skittering around in every direction Harry faced, moving its head this way and that, trying to catch his eye.

Hating the idea of dying while experiencing his worst fear, Harry immediately went in for the kill. "Protego!" He shouted, reinforcing his Shield Charm before casting, "Accio Golem Rubble! Impedimenta!" The mound of rubble was still waiting by the open door, exactly where he had left it, and Harry summoned it over to himself before stopping it in mid-air in front of him. Before the Wampus could scatter the rubble away with a swipe of its paws, Harry spat out, "Acusignis! Depulso!"

The frozen rubble turned into a hundred, long, sharp needles and with the Banishing Charm, they flung themselves into every corner of the room, in order to catch the Wampus no matter where it fled. Unfortunately for the Beast, it had seemed to understand that Harry had weaponised the rubble against it, and it had shot forward with its paw raised in order to scatter them away.

It ended up catching a face-full of needles, taking roughly half a dozen to each eye.

The Wampus ricocheted off his Shield Charm for the second time in as many minutes. It fell to the ground, roaring in agony as it was blinded by the sharp daggers. Had Harry been in his right mind, he would have left it at that, taking his chances by running to the exit while the Wampus writhed in pain.

But he wasn't in his right mind, the Wampus has seen to that, and he wanted the damn Beast to suffer for it.

"Oppugno!" He shouted, spit flying, and he didn't cast it just once. Through the open door to the Troll Room, the chains and paper crows came soaring in. Harry directed the metallic bindings to wrap themselves around the Wampus' limbs and throat, wanting to incapacitate it, while the paper crows were there to flutter around its ears, keeping it focused away from him while he lowered his Shield Charm and approached.

Harry got within point black range of its enormous flank and fired, "Confringo!" The spell struck the side, opening up its body and dousing the room with the scent of burning flesh, all while the Wampus let out a mournful roar. Harry struck again and again with the Blasting Curse, until the Wampus was not just dead, but very messily cut in half.

Harry sat down on the ground and reached for another Girding Potion with shaking hands. His gloved fingers were slick with the blood of Trolls and Wampus, just like the rest of him, so it took him a minute to get the flask to open. He chugged down the foul-smelling potion as though it were a bottle of pineapple juice and threw the empty container back into his bag when he was done.

Harry let out a little humourless chuckle which echoed in the wide-open area. He had been fooling himself to ever think he would move past his life at Privet Drive. The Wampus had reminded him of that. If it hadn't been for Felix Felicis, keeping him rational when he was at his most irrational, and for telling him the exact right moment to strike with his Banishing Charm, he would have been eaten while experiencing the same nightmare he had dreaded having back when he used to sleep in a cupboard.

Harry had thought he had moved passed it, but if an animal like the Wampus was capable of making him feel the dull agonising pressure of an empty, unloved existence, then what were the Masters of the Mind Arts capable of? All that time he had spent in Quirrell's presence without knowing what Legilimency even was must have given him enough time to examine Harry's mind at his leisure. He had never even offered to teach Harry Occlumency either. He would have refused the offer of course, as he didn't trust anyone with unfettered access to his thoughts, but the fact that he didn't even offer to teach him was suspect in and of itself.

Or maybe he was just looking for another thing to place on his shoulders, because after tonight he was going to get back at Quirrell for putting him through this gauntlet in the first place.

Harry slowly climbed to his feet, not allowing himself to feel hope that the next obstacle would be the last. Due to his Arithmancy lessons, he knew that a gauntlet of three or seven obstacles would be the best protection for whatever the hell this whole place was protecting. Either that or a gauntlet of forty-nine obstacles, but just thinking that made Harry want to roll over and die.

The next one is the last one, Harry told himself as he prepared to open the door, it has to be.

Throwing the door wide open, Harry entered the final room.

Author's Note

I'm starting to wonder if I made the Marauder's Map too powerful. I tried to limit it to only being able to plot the user's location once they were already there, even if the area is Unplottable.

I know this doesn't sound like much of a limit, but compared to my first idea, it really is.

The next chapter is the most important one I've written yet. I honestly think it will make or break this story.

Please Review.