"I'll never forget that day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing..."
"I knew we were in for trouble."
Morticia and Gomez Addams
Chapter 18: Through the Trapdoor
June arrived, and with it came changes for the first years. First of all, exams were just around the corner, and all of them were seen studying whenever they could. Second of all, the weather was turning warm, and the days were growing longer. Students roamed the grounds happily, choosing to study outside in the sunshine rather than inside the castle. But the weather soon got too hot and everyone came inside once again.
Another change came. This time, for Erica specifically. She got a surprise letter from her mother's owl, Archimedes.
A letter from her mom and a birth announcement.
Erica squealed loud enough to be heard through the castle. And she waved her baby sister's photo around with the utmost pride.
"Helena Grace Addams!" she announced to anyone who would listen. "She's perfect."
And she was. She was a few weeks premature, but she was healthy, and she was absolutely gorgeous. Or, at least, Erica and Hermione thought so. So did others — Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar and Georgie Francis, two girls from the other first-year girls' dormitories, even Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell. Others, like Harry and Ron, and the Weasley twins, didn't understand what was so "gorgeous" about a baby that looked the same as any other baby they'd ever seen. But they were happy for Erica all the same.
But even the news of Erica's new baby sister was not enough to sustain them as exams finally rolled around.
In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.
It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.
They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox — points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.
Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by nightmares.
Erica let him borrow one of the last balms Hermione had given her for Christmas. Lavender. She claimed it helped when she had trouble sleeping. The soothing smell had helped Harry sleep for a while, but after a couple nights, the nightmares had returned.
Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron, Hermione, and Erica didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.
But none of her friends knew that Erica had been keeping a close watch on Quirrell, despite how busy she was.
Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.
"That was far easier than I thought it would be," Hermione said as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."
Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.
"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."
Harry was rubbing his forehead.
"Again?" Erica asked.
Harry had told her that his scar had been smarting. She was truly one of the only ones who understood, seeing as she got migraines all the time. But still, it wasn't the same.
"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting — it's happened before, but never as often as this."
"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.
"It's not the same thing, Hermione," Erica said gently.
"I'm not ill," Harry agreed. "I think it's a warning… it means danger's coming…"
Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.
"Harry, relax. Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."
Erica agreed, but something had also been nagging at her. And from the look on Harry's face, something was bothering him as well.
They exchanged a look. Erica felt a horrible thought, a horrible idea pop into her mind, and Harry felt as if there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."
Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy… never… but —
Harry and Erica locked eyes.
"You think?"
Erica looked at him seriously. She seemed to have read his mind.
Harry nodded.
The both of them jumped to their feet.
"Where're you going?" Ron asked sleepily.
"Something's been bugging me," Erica said. "It has been for a while."
Harry had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."
"Why?" Hermione panted, hurrying to keep up with her ridiculously fast friends.
"It's a bit convenient, isn't it?" Erica continued, "that what Hagrid wanted more than anything in the world is a dragon, and someone just happens to show up with one in his pocket, despite the fact that it's illegal?" Erica scoffed. "As if. Hagrid was targeted."
"Why didn't we see it before?" Harry said. He'd had the exact same realization. And now, he wasn't quite so sure that Snape didn't know how to get past Fluffy.
"What are you talking about?" Ron said, but Harry and Erica, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.
Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.
"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"
"Yes, please," Ron said, but Harry cut him off.
"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, we've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"
"Dunno," Hagrid said casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."
He saw the four of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.
"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head."
"The pub in Hogsmeade?" Erica gasped. Remus had been adamant about avoiding the place. Beyond the "funny" characters (Remus had called them "suspicious with wandering hands"), the place was filthy.
The Hog's Head was the perfect place to swindle a deal. No one would ask questions, because no one wanted them in return.
"That's it," Hagrid nodded. "Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."
Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.
"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"
"Mighta come up," Hagrid said, frowning as he tried to remember. That was not a good sign. "Yeah… he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here… He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after… so then… I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks… Let's see… yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted… but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home… So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…"
"Was he interested in Fluffy?" Erica asked, horror and dread flooding her system like ice.
"Well — yeah — how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off to sleep —"
Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.
"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey — where're yeh goin'?"
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Erica were long gone, sprinting all the way back to the castle. Hagrid had just admitted to get past Fluffy sober. Imagine what he'd let slip when he was drunk and feeling giddy about winning a dragon.
"Music," Ron huffed to Erica as they ran, "just like Cerrebus and Orleus."
"Cerberus and Orpheus."
"Whatever."
The four Gryffindors came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.
"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry said. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak — it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"
Erica was about to lead the way when a voice rang across the hall.
"What are you four doing inside?"
It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.
"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said, rather bravely.
"See Professor Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"
Harry swallowed — now what?
"It's sort of secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.
"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."
"He's gone?" Harry said frantically. "Now?"
"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time —"
"But this is important."
"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"
"Professor," Erica cut in, deciding to just get it over with and tell the truth, "it's about the Sorcerer's Stone —"
Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.
"How do you know —?" she spluttered.
"Professor, someone is trying to steal it," Erica said. "Someone has been all year. We're sure of it. That's why we want to talk to Professor Dumbledore."
Professor McGonagall eyed her with a mix of shock and suspicion.
"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."
"But Professor —"
"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she cut him off shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."
But they didn't.
"It's tonight," Harry said, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."
"But what can we —"
Hermione gasped. Harry, Ron, and Erica wheeled around.
Snape was standing there.
"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.
They stared at him.
"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.
"We were —" Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say.
"You want to be more careful," Snape said. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"
Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.
"Be warned, Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."
He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.
Erica raised a rude finger to his back.
Harry turned to her and the other two.
"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape — wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that."
"Why me?"
"It's obvious," Ron said. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice. "Oh, Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong…"
"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.
"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Ron and Erica. "Come on."
"Actually," Erica said, "I think I'll wait around Dumbledore's office, see if he comes back early."
"Good idea," Harry agreed.
Erica had another destination in mind. Quirrell's office. But that plan failed. Quirrell wasn't there. For nearly an hour, she waited, but still he didn't turn up. Erica hurried back to the common room in time to hear —
"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.
There was silence from Ron and Hermione.
"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."
"You're mad!" Ron said.
"You can't!" Hermione agreed. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"
"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! D'you think he'll leave you and your families along if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"
He glared at them.
Erica could only stand in the portrait hole in shock.
"You're right, Harry," Hermione said in a small voice.
"I'll use the Invisibility Cloak," Harry said. "It's just lucky that I got it back."
"But will it cover all four of us?" Ron said.
"All — all four of us?"
"Yes," Erica finally spoke up. She strode towards Harry, crossed her arms over her chest, and cocked her hip. "Four of us."
"Yeah, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" Ron asked.
"Of course not," Hermione said briskly. "How do you think you'd vet through to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful…"
"But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too."
"Not if I can help it," Hermione said grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."
"Or me," Erica piped up. "I got a hundred and fifty percent."
But Erica knew, realistically, her grades might not be enough. A werewolf sneaking about after hours trying to force her way through to a powerful magical artifact… It was definitely enough to get her expelled. And her anxiety flared at the mere thought of it. Kicked out of one school for something that wasn't her fault, then kicked out of a second for her own actions. Imagine that. But Erica knew that if she didn't help find the Stone, if she didn't help stop Voldemort…
She would never forgive herself.
~)8(~
After dinner the four of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry anymore, after all. This was the first night he hadn't been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn't talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Erica read in the corner, saying it helped her calm down. She needed to be calm for what they were about to do. Fred and George briefly stopped to talk to her, and so did Seamus and Dean, but they quickly left her alone.
Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.
"Better get the Cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy — he didn't feel like singing.
He ran back down to the common room.
"We'd better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us — if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own —"
"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.
"Nothing, Neville, nothing," Harry said, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back.
Neville stared at their guilty faces.
"You're going out again," he said.
"No, no, no," Hermione said. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"
Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.
"You can't go out," Neville said, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."
"You don't understand," Harry said, "this is important."
But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.
"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll — I'll fight you!"
"Neville!" Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot —"
"Ron!" Erica quickly admonished.
"Don't call me an idiot!" Neville said. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"
"Yes, but not to us," Ron said in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."
Erica sighed, her heart breaking.
Ron took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.
"Go on then, try and hit me!" Neville said, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"
Erica stepped between the boys hurriedly.
Harry turned to Hermione.
"Do something," he said desperately.
Hermione stepped forward.
"Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."
She raised her wand.
"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville.
Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.
Erica ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.
"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.
"It's the full Body-Find," Hermione said miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."
"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," Harry said.
"You'll understand later, Neville," Ron said.
Erica didn't say anything. She simply closed her eyes and stood. She glared hotly at Ron.
"You bully him like that again and I'll hex you myself, Ronald Weasley."
Ron took the warning, and the four of them pulled on the Invisibility Cloak.
But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them.
At the foot of their first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.
"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.
They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.
"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you a ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"
He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.
"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."
Harry had a sudden idea.
"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."
Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.
"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake — I didn't see you — of course I didn't, you're invisible — forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."
"I have business here, Peeves," Harry croaked. "Stay away from this place tonight."
"I will, sir, I most certainly will," Peeves said, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."
And he scooted off.
"Brilliant, Harry!" Ron whispered.
A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor — and the door was already ajar.
"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."
Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all four of them what was facing them. Underneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other three.
"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the Cloak, I won't need it now."
"Don't be stupid," Ron said.
"We're coming," Hermione said.
"End of discussion," Erica said.
Harry pushed the door open.
As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.
"What's at its feet?" Hermione whispered.
"Looks like a harp," Ron said. "Snape must have left it there."
"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," Harry said. "Well, here goes…"
He put Hagrid's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased — it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then slumped on the ground, fast asleep.
"Keep playing," Erica warned Harry as they stepped out of the Cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.
"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," Ron said, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"
"No, I don't!"
"Erica?"
"No way in hell."
"All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.
"What can you see?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"Nothing — just black — there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."
Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.
"You want to go first? Are you sure?" Ron said. "I don't know how deep this goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."
Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.
Harry climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom.
"I wonder…" Erica climbed her way over to them and took out her wand. She pointed it down the hole. "Lumos."
But even with the light, they couldn't see the bottom.
Harry lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and Erica and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"
"Right," Ron said.
Erica hesitated, then nodded.
"See you in a minute, I hope…"
And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and —
FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.
"Harry?" Erica called down. "What was that? Did you land on something soft?"
Harry wondered how good Erica's hearing was if she had heard that. "Yeah, I did. It's okay!" The light from the trapdoor was no bigger than a postage stamp. It's a soft landing, you can jump!"
Ron followed right away. He landed sprawled next to Harry.
"What's this stuff?" were his first words.
"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Erica!"
Erica landed near them only seconds later.
"Whoa… What a rush! Hermione! Get down here!"
Erica suddenly looked down though, then scrambled to her feet.
The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry's other side.
"We must be miles under the school," she said.
"Guys —"
"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," Ron said, not listening to Erica.
"Guys!"
"Lucky!" Hermione shrieked. "Look at you both!"
She leapt up, just like Erica had done, and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. For Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.
Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she and Erica watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.
"Stop struggling!" Erica ordered. "You're only making it worse!"
"It's Devil's Snare!" Hermione said.
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," Ron snarled, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.
"Shut up, Ron!" Erica said.
"We're trying to remember how to kill it!" Hermione said.
"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.
Erica felt panic well up inside her. Her brain was shutting off. She couldn't think. Plants? Plants who?
"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare… what did Professor Sprout say? — it likes the dark and the damp —"
"So light a fire!" Harry choked.
"Yes — of course — but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"
"Oh, right!" Hermione said, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames Erica had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the two boys felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.
"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," Harry said as he joined her and Erica, wiping sweat off his face.
"Yeah," Ron said, "and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis — 'there's no wood,' honestly."
"Okay, Mr. Oh-I'm-So-Glad-We-Know-What-It's-Called-That's-A-Great-Help," Erica quipped.
Ron fell quiet.
"This way," Harry said, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.
All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Harry was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of his heart, he remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a full-grown dragon — Norbert had been bad enough…
"Next should be Flitwick's enchantment," Erica muttered, remembering the order Hagrid had told them the enchantments in. He likely hadn't thought to scramble the order of them. "Then McGonagall, Quirrell, Snape, and Dumbledore. Wait — can you hear something?"
The other three listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.
"Do you think it's a ghost?"
"I don't know… sounds like wings to me," Ron said.
"There's a light up ahead — I can see something moving."
They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all round the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" Ron said.
"Probably," Harry said. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once… well, there's no other choice… I'll run."
He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.
The other three followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge. Not even when Hermione tried the Alohomora Charm.
"Now what?" Ron asked.
"These birds… they can't be here for just decoration," Hermione said.
They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering — glittering?
"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys — look carefully. So that must mean…" he looked around the chamber while the other three squinted up at the flock of keys. "… yes — look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"
"But there are hundreds of them!"
Ron examined the lock on the door.
"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one — probably silver, like the handle."
They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.
Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minutes' weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into a keyhole.
"That one!" he called to the others. "That big one — there — no, there — with bright blue wings — the feathers are all crumpled on one side."
Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.
"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above — Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down — Erica, come at it from in front of me, push it towards me. We'll box it in, and I'll try to catch it. Right, NOW!"
Ron dived, Hermione rocked upward, Erica pelted toward it, sending it right in Harry's direction, and he streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron, Hermione, and Erica's cheers echoed around the high chamber.
They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned — it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.
"Ready?" Harry asked the other three, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.
The next chamber, McGonagall's, was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.
They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Erica shivered slightly — the towering white chessmen had no faces.
"Now what do we do?" Hermione whispered.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron said. "We've got to play our way across the room."
Behind the white pieces they could see another door.
"Do we direct the black pieces or take their places?" Erica wondered, biting their lip.
"I think," Ron said, "we're going to have to be chessmen."
He walked up to the black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.
"Do we — we — have to join you to get across?"
The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other three.
"This needs thinking about…" he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces…"
Harry, Hermione, and Erica stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally, he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess —"
"We're not offended," Harry said quickly. "Just tell us what to do."
"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there instead of that castle. Erica, take the other bishop."
"What about you?"
"I'm going to be a knight."
The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, the two bishops, and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Erica took.
"White always plays first in chess," Ron said, peering across the board. "Yes… look…"
A white pawn had moved forward two squares.
Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry's knees were trembling. What if they lost?
"Harry — move diagonally four squares to the right."
Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.
"Had to let that happen," Ron said, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."
Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry and Erica were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.
"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think — let me think…"
The white queen turned her blank face toward him.
"Yes…" Ron said softly, "it's the only way… I've got to be taken."
"NO!" Harry, Hermione, and Erica shouted.
"That's chess!" Ron snapped. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I'll make my move and she'll take me — that leaves you free to take her, Erica, and then Harry to checkmate the king!"
"But —"
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"
"Ron —"
"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"
"Ron," Erica's voice was quiet, "are you sure?"
He paled, but nodded. Erica steeled herself and nodded in return.
There was no alternative.
"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go — now, don't hang around once you've won."
He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor — Hermione screamed but stayed on her square — the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.
Erica trembled. Then moved two spaces diagonally to the right.
The queen, at first, didn't move. But then, she threw down her crown at Erica's feet, and stalked off the board.
Erica trembled, and looked two squares ahead of her. "Check."
The king moved right where he was supposed to.
Harry moved three squares to the left.
The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, the other three charged through the door and up the next passageway.
"What if he's —"
"He'll be all right," Harry said, trying to convince himself.
"He was breathing." Erica looked white. "I saw his chest moving. He'll be okay."
"What do you reckon's next?" Harry asked.
"Whatever Quirrell's spell is," Erica answered. "Then Snape's. Then Dumbledore's."
They had reached another door.
"All right?" Harry whispered.
"Go on."
Harry pushed it open.
A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making the three of them pull their shirts up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.
Erica stared. Quirrell's protection was a troll. A troll. Something that had nearly made him faint with terror at Halloween.
Unless, of course… He had been faking. Unless, of course, Quirrell knew exactly how to handle trolls and had been playing everyone for a whole year.
"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."
He pulled open the next door, none of them hardly daring to look at what came next — but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.
"Snape's protection," Erica said. "But why seven potions?"
They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't an ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.
"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and Erica looked over her shoulder to read it:
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
"Brilliant," Erica whispered. She took the riddle. "The man's a jerk, but man, if he isn't a genius…"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, startled.
"This isn't magic," she said, smiling. "It's logic. You can be the best wizard in the world and not have an ounce of logic in your whole body. Spells aren't going to help us here. Only logic."
"But now we're stuck here, aren't we?" Harry asked, alarmed.
"Of course not," Hermione said. "Everything we need is here on the paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."
"But how do we know which to drink?"
Erica looked at Hermione. "May I?"
Hermione smiled and nodded. "Be my guest."
Erica stepped up to the table.
She read through the riddle several times. The most obvious clue was the fourth — the two bottles second from the left and second from the right were nettle wine. Sure of it, Erica uncorked both bottles and sniffed.
Yep, definitely wine.
Now, the first clue — poison will always be on the left of the wine.
One of the poisons was farthest to the left, then a second was third on the right. Third unknown.
Erica had three bottles left. The two smallest, and a medium-sized one. Third from the left, the middle bottle, and the bottle farthest to the right.
Third clue — the smallest, nor the largest bottles, held poison. Erica saw the smallest bottle, the third one from the left. Not poison.
Second clue — if you wanted to move forward, then neither of the outside bottles would help you. So that meant the second-smallest bottle, on the outside, was most likely the potion that got you through the purple flames, and the smallest one was the potion that got you through the black flames.
That left the middle bottle, the medium-sized one, as the third potion. And Erica noted that it was next to another poison, still on nettle wine's left side.
Clever dungeon bat.
"Got it," Erica announced, confident in her conclusions.
"Really?" Harry looked surprised and impressed.
"Yep. The smallest one — that one, there — it will get us through the black flames, toward the Stone."
Harry looked at the tiny bottle.
"There's only enough there for two of us," he said. "That's hardly two swallows."
They looked at each other.
Harry remembered Firenze's words: "Keep close to the Addams girl. She will help you."
"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" he asked.
Erica held up the rounded bottle at the end of the line.
"Hermione, you drink that," Harry said. "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy — go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig or Donna to Dumbledore, we need him. Erica and I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but we're no match for him, really."
"But Harry, Erica — what if You-Know-Who's with him?"
Erica managed a shrug. On the inside, she was quaking. "Guess I'll just have to break his nose."
Hermione's lip twitched.
"And besides," Harry said. "I was lucky once, wasn't I?" He pointed at his scar. "I might get lucky again."
This time, Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and Erica and threw her arms around them.
"Hermione!"
"Harry — you're a great wizard, you know. And Erica — Erica you're so amazing."
"I'm not as good as you," Harry said, very embarrassed, as Hermione let go of him and Erica. Erica looked too stunned to speak.
"Me!" Hermione said. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery — Erica, you taught me that — oh guys — be careful!"
"You drink first," Harry said. He looked at Erica. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"
She nodded. "Positive."
She handed Hermione the round bottle, her eyes misty. She threw her arms around Hermione again.
"Never as amazing as you," she whispered.
Hermione pulled away, her smile watery. Then, she took a long drink from the round bottle, and shuddered.
"It's not poison?" Harry asked anxiously.
"No — but it's like ice."
"Quick, go, before it wears off."
"Good luck — take care —"
"GO!"
Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire. Erica immediately slumped, relieved that she had made it through unharmed.
Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned and looked at Erica.
"Are you sure you want to come?" he asked. "I'm sorry I kind of volunteered you."
Erica smiled thinly, but genuinely. "You're not going anywhere without me. Especially not if you're planning on facing off with the Darkest wizard in history."
Harry managed a little, thankful smile. He uncorked the bottle and looked at the black flames.
"Here we come." He took a gulp.
Erica drained what was left.
It was indeed as though ice was flooding their bodies. Erica put the bottle down, and drew her wand. Together, she and Harry walked forward; they braced themselves, saw the black flames licking their bodies, but couldn't feel them — for a moment they could see nothing but dark fire — then they were on the other side, in the last chamber.
There was already someone there — but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.
Just two more chapters to go on this story! Thank you everyone for following along! Leave me a review if you like it!
Reviews
Guest: Thank you so much for reviewing! (Though your review currently isn't showing up in anything other than my email, another reason I will be continuing this series on AO3, has too many glitches now) You saying I'm a good writer and the plot is amazing really means so much to me! Thank you :)
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