XX. HADES GATES
Paranoia ran rampant as we left Gryffindor Tower, jumping at shadows-one of which, I swear, bore an alarming resemblance to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.
It didn't help that, at the foot of the first set of stairs-
"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered to Harry as we stared up at Mrs Norris who was skulking about near the top.
"I'm game," I instantly agreed, running my fingers through my hair.
My smirk was positively devilish.
Harry shook his head at us, and I deflated.
"Killjoy," I huffed, pouting slightly.
Ron and I shared a disappointed look.
'We'll get her on the way back,' I mouthed, and he grinned a bit.
We carefully skirted the dust-coloured cat, her lamplike eyes glowing eerily in the dark as they seemingly stared right at us.
Like in the mirror room, she didn't react one way or the other.
-still bloomin' creepy, though.
The rest of the way was smooth sailing-so, of course, we just had to run into Peeves of all people as he bobbed halfway up the staircase that led to the third floor. From the looks of things, he was loosening the carpet to trip people.
And just our luck he heard us as we gingerly climbed up.
"Who's there?" The poltergeist narrowed his eyes, "Know you're there, even if I can' see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"
He floated up into the air, squinting in our direction.
At the word "ghostie", a lightbulb clicked in my head.
I elbowed Harry to get his attention.
"Two words, Scotchy; Bloody, Bar-" I murmured slyly in his ear.
His green eyes lit up.
"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen-"
"Peeves," Harry said in a hoarse whisper, and I shot him a thumbs up and a tongue-in-teeth grin, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."
Peeves fell but caught himself mid-air.
At the mention of my house ghost, the puckish embodiment of disorder and misbehaviour was reduced to ingratiatingly falling all over himself.
"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, Sir-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 totally have to drag Harry with me to mess with Peeves like this again, I decided with a slightly wicked gleam in my eyes.
"I have business here, Peeves," Harry croaked in his Bloody Baron voice. "Stay away from this place tonight."
"I will, sir, I most certainly will-" Peeves floated back up, "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."
He beat a hasty retreat.
"Brilliant, Harry!" Ron whispered.
I coughed pointedly.
"Great idea, Jules," Harry quickly added.
"I mean, duh," I huffed.
We started up the stairs again.
Brightening, I nudged Harry with a mock scolding look.
"I can't believe you can almost perfectly impersonate the Bloody Baron! As your twin, I feel like I'm entitled to know these things-I mean, how else am I supposed to seriously misuse it for my own enjoyment?" My mocking expression was swiftly replaced by a roguish grin, emerald eyes sparkling, "We are so doing that again-like, all the time. How long do you think it would take Peeves to catch on if I had 'the Bloody Baron'-" I drew cheeky quotation marks in the air, "make him do my homework for me?-"
Ron and Harry traded an amused glance.
Hermione stifled a smile.
When we reached the door leading into the third-floor corridor, we all sobered.
It was slightly open.
It almost felt as if we were being challenged.
"Well, there you are," Harry said subduedly. "Snape's already got past Fluffy."
I rolled my eyes hugely but left it.
There's obviously no point trying to convince them it isn't Professor Snape.
-besides, if we survive to the end, they'll see for themselves, and if we die...well, I'm an atheist(yes, even with all the ghosts-you aren't fooling me, you floating affronts to my lack of belief system!), so, uh, worm food?
My brain is such a morbid-and weirdly sparkly place to live.
Harry turned away from the open door to look at us.
"If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."
"Don't be stupid," Ron said.
"We're coming," Hermione agreed with an air of finality.
"Or, you know, we could all turn around and-"
Ron and Hermione stared at me flatly.
"We're coming," I backtracked, looking at Harry mock seriously and wagging a finger. "So-so yeah."
Harry placed his hand on the door and pushed.
It creaked, and I cringed.
Instantly, Fluffy's growls met our ears, his three noses sniffing madly.
"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered and I looked down.
-seriously, what's up with her and this thing's feet?
"Looks like a harp," Ron concluded. "Snape must have left it here."
Despite myself, I had the sudden mental picture of Professor Snape in a toga strumming a harp on a cloud with a deadpan expression and little angel wings.
I covered my mouth, biting back a snigger.
"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," Harry figured. "Well, here goes..."
Pulling out a roughly hewed wooden flute(his Christmas present from Hagrid), he put it to his lips, blowing a random tune.
Okay, tune is a strong word but Cerberus settled down, so.
Swaying and eyes drooping from the first 'note?', Fluffy's growls slowly ceased before he slumped to the ground-out cold.
"Good to know Fluffy isn't a music snob," I mused in the beat of tense silence that followed, "because I don't think that was technically music. We probably could've just hummed it's a small world, after all or something. Then again, there's a high chance the song choice would've gotten us mauled to death-"
Harry shot me a look asking if I wanted to play the flute, and I shut up.
"Keep playing," Ron warned as we pulled the cloak off and crept over to the trapdoor.
For safekeeping, I quickly re-shrunk it and shoved it into my pocket.
As we approached, the three-headed dog's hot, smelly breath wafted over us and I wrinkled my nose up.
"I think we'll be able to pull the door open-" Ron peered over Fluffy's back, "Want to go first, Hermione?"
"No, I don't!"
"Why not? It seems like a blast," I scoffed. "Right up there with shoving your wand up a mountain troll's nose and licking Trevor-"
Ron looked at me weirdly.
"Why would you lick Neville's toad? Wait, you did mean the toad, right?"
"I'm being sarcastic," I said obviously.
I could almost hear him mentally going through names I'd mentioned/mutual acquaintances to see if either of us knew a human Trevor.
"But why did your mind immediately go to licking-?"
"Ron, Jewel, not the time," Hermione cut in pointedly.
We sheepishly shut up.
Ron looked Cerberus over and, gritting his teeth, said, "alright," and stepped carefully over the overgrown puppy's legs.
Bending down, he pulled the ring of the trapdoor, and it swung open.
Hermione watched on anxiously.
"What can you see?"
"Dumbledore holding the Stone-" was my once again sarcastic answer, "guess we're not needed. And I was so looking forward to this suicide mission-"
"Nothing-just black-there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."
Harry waved to get Ron's attention, not being able to speak up with the flute in his mouth, before pointing at-
"No, no, that is a negative-" I instantly protested, gesturing wildly, "nope, uh-uh, non, no way, no siree Bob-"
"You want to go first? Are you sure?" Ron said. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."
"Like hell-"
Harry handed over the flute.
Fluffy growled and twitched in those few music?less seconds, making me abruptly shut up and regard him warily.
"Jules," Harry looked at me steadily as Hermione lulled the mythical hound back to sleep. "I'll be fine."
"Are you mental?" I hissed, whacking him over the head. "There could be anything down there! There could be nothing down there! How are you supposed to fight anyone, least of all Qui-Voldemort, after you jump into a hole, fall thirty feet, and break both your legs? What's the plan then? Hope he trips over you on the way out, faceplants, and gets knocked out? Make Ron or Hermione go-"
"Thanks, Jewel," Ron said dryly.
I wove him off carelessly, too stressed to make a joke about how we'd use their bodies as a crash mat or something along those lines.
Harry winced as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Jules, really-" he insisted, "I've got it, I promise."
We locked eyes but, seeing how stubborn he was to stupidly go swinging blindly into Merlin knows what without a working parachute, I reluctantly stepped back.
"If you die, I'll never forgive you," I told him plainly, pulling no punches.
Harry nodded, grimacing slightly.
Climbing over the dozing hound, Harry surveyed the trapdoor.
Knowing from his and Ron's minds that there was nothing but inky blackness, with no end in sight, didn't make me feel any better about the situation.
I nervously checked my watch before muttering a curse and following, awkwardly making my way over to stand by Ron as my brother lowered himself down until he was hanging above the abyss by the tips of his fingers.
"If anything happens to me," he said, looking at me in particular, "don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"
"Right-"
"If you think I'm going anywhere, you're an idiot," I retorted, bristling. "I already sent Illyius to Dumbledore half an hour before dinner, anyway," I added.
They all looked at me in surprise.
"You have your half-baked plans," I stated, pointing my thumb at myself, "I have mine."
"Jules-"
Seeing the steely look on my face, Harry was the one that backed down this time.
"See you in a minute, I hope..." he said.
He let go.
There was a tense silence, punctuated only by flute noises strung together into some semblance of a melody and Fluffy's breathing, until, finally-
"It's a soft landing, you can jump!"
Ron jumped through the trapdoor without hesitation.
After sharing a look with Hermione, I sat down and slid my legs through the opening, letting them dangle.
"Your turn, Jules!"
"I hate your house," I groaned to Hermione before jumping.
Cold, damp air rushed past me as I fell endlessly down the rabbit hole, half-expecting for the world to slow and kitchenware and pianos to float by.
When I did land, it was on something soft and squishy with a weird, muffled thump.
(no legs were broken, which is a bit of a bummer because it would've proved my point and maybe forced them to call this whole thing off-or delayed things until Professor Snape could take over, freeing me up to go nap with Fluffy).
Harry was to my right and, beside him, Ron.
We were so far down, the open trapdoor looked like a tiny, illuminated, stamp-sized hole in the ceiling cutting through the nothingness.
"Come on, Hermione!" Harry called up after making sure I landed okay.
Above us, the flute noises stopped.
There was a loud bark, and then Hermione landed on my other side.
"We must be miles under the school," she noted.
"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," Ron said.
I squinted, eyes struggling to adjust in the dark, at the "plant thing" we'd landed on.
It had a mass of soft, springy tendrils and vines and-
"Shit!"
Noticing it herself, Hermione's eyes went wide.
"Lucky!" she shrieked. "Look at the three of you!"
She leapt up just in time but still had to fight to escape the serpentine tendrils attempting to twist themselves around her ankles.
Reaching the damp wall, the brunette found herself out of the plant's reach.
We weren't so lucky.
I tried to rip my legs free, but they were pinned down.
Remembering that it strangles you faster if you struggle, I did my best to not flip out like the boys were-focusing on trying to wriggle my wand free from my pocket through the tendrils and vines winding their way up my body.
Comeoncomeoncomeon-
Hermione watched in horror as Ron and Harry strained against the plant that was wrapping tighter and faster the more they fought it.
"Stop moving!" she ordered frantically. "I know what this is-it's Devil's Snare!"
"This is so the universe punishing us for what we did to Neville!" I moaned. "Hermione's doomed us all."
They ignored my dramatics.
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," Ron snarled as he leant back to keep from being strangled.
"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!"
Realising my wand was stuck, I gritted my teeth to hold back my rising panic.
"Well, hurry up," Harry gasped, wrestling with the plant, "I can't breathe!"
I went suddenly very still.
"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare...what did Professor Sprout say?-it likes the dark and the damp-"
"So light a fire!"
"Yes-of course-but there's no wood!"
Looking up sharply, I stared at Hermione in disbelief as she wrung her hands.
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"
I felt something snap seeing Harry gasping for air and, a red-hot fury rushing through me, I violently wrenched one of my arms free-taking the plant by surprise seeing as I'd consciously been pretty placid thus far.
Reaching over, I blindly shoved my hand through the vines and wrapped it around the handle of his wand, yanking it out of his back pocket.
"Incendio!"
I aimed Harry's wand not at him and Ron but close enough that the Devil's Snare instantly recoiled from the light and the heat and loosened.
Blue flames streaked from Hermione's wand, contrasting against my vibrant orange and freeing not only Harry and Ron but me too.
In a flash, I tore the flailing tendrils from my body and stumbled to my feet.
Seizing Harry's arm, I jerked the startled Gryffindor up and fully dragged him, Ron hastily tripping over vines on our heels.
"I'll go first, he says-" I muttered exasperatedly, stopping as soon as I was confident the Devil's Snare couldn't reach us anymore so I could check my twin over for injuries, "anything goes wrong, leave me to die, he says-"
Harry stared at me, amazed.
(and I know that look, because it's the same one I know was on my face the first time anybody gave even a sliver of a damn about my wellbeing; I gave myself a bloody nose gracefullyfaceplanting into a door when I failed to turn the knob properly and, when Dakota fretted over me for the rest of the afternoon, all I could do was stare at her blankly, waiting for the punchline).
After I was sure he was okay, I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding-but stopped when I registered that they were all staring at me.
Heat crept up my ears.
"Here-" I held up Harry's wand sheepishly, "you probably want this back."
"Thanks," Harry said, taking his wand almost shyly. "Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," he added, wiping the sweat from his face, "and Jules-"
"-likes starting fires?" Ron finished.
"Shut up," I said, punching his shoulder playfully.
"Yeah," Ron went on, "and lucky Jules and Harry don't lose their heads in a crisis-'there's no wood,' honestly."
I snorted a laugh, and he grinned at me.
Hermione's face pinked in embarrassment.
Harry pointed down the lone stone passageway.
"This way."
"Oh, are we going that way? And here I was, thinking we'd go back the way we came-maybe, if we stayed really still, we'd fall right through the Devil's Snare-let's just hope it doesn't strangle us first-"
Not bothering to respond, Harry took my arm and hauled me down the passage.
꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ
As we walked, we could hear water trickling down the walls. Other than that, the only other sound was our breathing, footsteps, and my running commentary.
In my defence, it's the only thing keeping me from panicking.
(it didn't make me feel any better that Harry was suddenly thinking about Gringotts-and, filled with dread, wondering if we'd meet a fully-grown dragon like the ones they supposedly have guard the high-security vaults-as if Norbert wasn't enough-).
"Come out to the coast," I quoted wryly under my breath, "we'll get together, have a few laughs-"
"Do you never shut up?" Ron finally snapped as the passageway sloped downward.
"But if I shut up, how else will we alert our enemies of our arrival?" I said, widening my eyes mockingly. "Fair play, Ronniekins-us Slytherins swear by it."
Harry Ron and Hermione stared at me blankly.
I bit back a grin.
Ron opened his mouth only to pause.
"Can you hear something?"
There was a soft rustling and clinking noise up ahead.
"Do you think it's a ghost?" he added, voice having dropped to a whisper.
"If Peeves' twin brother is the next obstacle," I quipped matter-of-factly, "I say we let Voldemort have the Stone."
Harry shot me a look.
"What? Humour's my go-to defence mechanism," I defended. "Would you rather I curl up in a ball and roll about sobbing hysterically about how there's no hope and we're all gonna die?"
Harry turned back to Ron, giving up.
"I don't know...sounds like wings to me."
"There's a light ahead-I can see something moving."
At the end of the passageway was a brilliantly lit chamber.
The ceiling was arched and there was a heavy wooden door directly opposite us.
But, the main attraction?
Hundreds of small, glittering birds(that, on closer inspection, looked like-oh, not birds)fluttering and tumbling in the air above our heads.
"Definitely Flitwick," I hummed decisively.
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" Ron wondered.
"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."
"Yeeeah, I don't think so, tough guy," I snorted, throwing out an arm to keep him in place. "Let the resident Beater handle this one, 'kay? I've spent all year being bombarded by heavy projectiles for fun, I think I can handle flying keys."
"'-keys?'" Ron echoed.
They all looked up, squinting.
"They're not birds!" Harry realised, eyes widening. "They're keys!"
"Impressive observation, Skywalker," I drawled.
Then, twirling on my heel, I casually started across the chamber before anyone could argue.
Nothing happened.
I stopped by the door, wryly glancing back at the others.
When they saw that the literal keys didn't peck my eyes out or whatever(and I was so scared too), they were quick to follow.
(seriously though, I have lost somany house keys just over the last two and a half plus years with the Morrisseys alone-I can only imagine they'd want to come after me to avenge their misplaced brethren; as much as I appreciate the poetic justice/irony, I'd rather not get repeatedly jabbed in the face by winged keys, cheers).
Harry jiggled the door handle.
It was locked.
Shocker.
Harry Ron and Hermione fruitlessly heaved and tugged at the door but, nada.
Hermione got the same results attempting an Alohomora charm, the Ravenclaw Head of House obviously having warded against the use of magic.
"Jules, do you think you can-?"
"Waaay ahead of you."
I'd already pulled out two hairpins.
Deftly bending them into position, I knelt in front of the door and inserted them into the lock, moving them around.
"You are way too good at that-" Ron eyed me warily.
"It was learn to pick a lock fast, or get frostbite-" I shrugged absentmindedly, focused on manipulating the lock pins, "Frostbite seemed like a shitty way to spend the holidays, and I like my fingers and toes as they are, so."
"What does frostbite have to do with lockpicking?"
"Shh, Freckles, I'm doing a thing."
"But you're the one that-"
"Wait-look!" Harry suddenly said, unintentionally cutting the redhead off. "Broomsticks! I think we're meant to catch the key to the-"
The lock clicked.
Harry Ron and Hermione looked down, startled.
"Way too good," Ron restated sounding impressed.
"Of course, they wouldn't expect anyone to pick the lock," Hermione commented. "Wizards would use magic-and picking a lock is the Muggle way-"
Harry looked sorta proud.
"Good job, Jules."
I rubbed the back of my neck, face tinting pink.
"Yeah, whatever."
While Harry went straight for the door handle, I stepped back, not eager to go rushing through first-highlighting the difference between us and our houses.
"Ready?"
Hermione and Ron nodded.
"Well, I mean, now that you mention it-"
Hermione elbowed me in the side.
I coughed awkwardly and did a double thumbs up, smiling sarcastically.
Harry opened the door.
The next chamber was pitch-black.
-right until we stepped inside, setting off some kind of invisible magical trigger that flooded the astonishing scene with light.
"Whoa."
I looked around in amazement.
We were on the edge of a huge, life-sized chessboard.
Chessmen seemingly carved from black stone towered in front of us while the white pieces stood on the far side of the board.
They had no faces.
It was freaky in the best possible way.
Harry Ron and Hermione all shivered slightly at the unnerving sight.
Beyond the white pieces was the door to the next chamber.
"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.
"Yodel?" I deadpanned, shooting him an 'are you stupid?' look.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron remarked. "We've got to play our way across the room."
"How?" Hermione nervously asked.
"I think," he looked around, "we're going to have to be chessmen."
Walking over to a black knight on a hunch, Ron placed a hand on his horse.
At once, the opposing stone figure sprang to life, the horse pawing the ground as the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at the redhead.
"Do we-er-have to join you to get across?"
A nod.
"This needs thinking about," Ron pondered, turning back to us. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces..."
We all kinda suck,even if my "Legilimency" gives me a wildly unfair advantage(-that doesn't currently exist, seeing as our opponents don't have minds to read), so we just stayed silent and let the Chess Overlord work.
"Now," he finally said, "don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess-"
"We're not offended," Harry was quick to assure him. "Just tell us what to do."
"Speak for yourself," I said, feigning offence.
"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you next to him instead of that castle. Jewel, you take the queen-"
"As I should," I sniffed mock haughtily.
"Thought you'd like that," Ron muttered with a slight grin before sobering again.
"What about you?" Harry asked.
Ron pulled himself up.
"I'm going to be a knight."
To our surprise, a knight, a bishop, a castle, and the queen all suddenly turned their backs and hopped off the board once Ron was finished speaking.
Harry Ron Hermione and I took our places.
"White always plays first in chess," Ron explained as he looked across the board. "Yes...look..."
Over enemy lines, a white pawn was now two squares closer.
Ron made a counter-attack, and the war was on.
-Harry already worrying about losing, his knees trembling as Ron directed chess pieces around the board, didn't exactly fill me with confidence.
"Harry-move diagonally four squares to the right."
Everything was chill enough, just your everyday chess match to the death...right up until the death part showed up when our non-Ron knight was taken.
The white queen, my vicious counterpart, violently struck the black piece down onto the checkered floor before dragging him away.
The knight laid facedown, unmoving.
"Had to let that happen," Ron told us, but even he looked shaken up. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."
At first, watching the white pieces mercilessly slaughter our own(there were now several limp black pieces slumped along the wall)was enough to have me pretty much in a constant state of tension...but, after a while, I got kinda bored.
Sure, I panicked whenever Harry or Hermione was in danger, but then Ron would swiftly dart around the board like a bloomin' chess assassin.
While enjoying my newfound power and status, I didn't really have to do all that much with Ron focusing more on having me evade enemy pieces(both because capturing the queen/yours truly can, in some cases, end the game-I'm not really sure about the logistics, seeing as I barely remember the rules, but Ron said something about how if you lose your queen it's sometimes better to cut your losses and start a new game instead of just drawing it out unless you've got a really good strategy up your sleeve-and because he didn't want me to, you know, get bludgeoned to death by a mad chess piece).
So, naturally, I started to sing Queen's Another One Bites The Dust whenever the other side lost a piece.
When we did, I whistled the theme from Titanic.
"Steve walks warily down the street, with his brim pulled way down low, ain't no sound but the sound of his feet, machine guns ready to go, are you ready hey are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat? Out of the doorway the bullets rip, to the sound of the beat, yeah-another one bites the dust-"
"Would you stop doing that?!"
I looked up at Ron blankly for a second.
"Take out the papers and the trash-" I suddenly sang.
Ron Harry and Hermione stared at me incredulously.
I'm pretty sure some of the chess pieces did, too.
"-or you don't get no spendin' cash, if you don't scrub that kitchen floor, you ain't gonna rock and roll no more, yakety-yak, don't talk back."
I rose my eyebrows innocently.
Ron was not amused.
"Okay, fine-" my hands went up in surrender, "I'll stop singing when either side loses pieces."
"Thank you," Ron said curtly.
He turned back around and, after a moment's deliberation, ordered one of the black pieces to move-
"It's the final countdown! Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do-"
"Jewel!"
The match regained momentum.
While they acted like they wanted me to stop, I knew for a fact that they all felt less tense with all my weirdness-which is why I did it.
I'm kind of like the Fred and George of our group, you know?
If there's ice that needs breaking, I'll grab a grenade and make it salsa across the room.
After a while, I found myself lazily twirling in my square as Ron planned out his next move-"We're nearly there," he suddenly muttered, "Let me think..."-but, when I realised the direction his thoughts were turning as he met the white queen's blank face-
"Yes..." he said softly, and I jerked around to stare at him in alarm, "It's the only way...I've got to be taken."
"-What?!"
At the same time, Harry and Hermione shouted, "NO!" in unison.
"Are you insane, or just stupid?" I exclaimed incredulously, gesturing wildly. "No! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"That's chess!" Ron snapped at us. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me-that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"
"But-"
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"
"Ron-"
"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"
I looked around the board, desperately trying to see something they weren't, but I don't know enough about chess to be able to come up with a better play-and Ron was right. If Quirrell gets that Stone, it's all over.
-a fact I've been cracking jokes all night to avoid fixating on.
Ron's pale face was set in grim determination.
"Ready?" he called. "Here I go-now, don't hang around once you've won."
"Bloody Gryffindors," I muttered under my breath, but looking at Ron in open concern.
I wasn't sure how to feel, but my stomach hurt.
As soon as he stepped forward, the white queen was on him-striking him hard across the head with her stone arm and sending him crashing to the floor.
Hermione screamed.
I couldn't look away, frozen in place as the queen dragged Ron to the side of the board.
He was knocked out but, to my relief, he was alive.
Even in his state, I could pick up that much.
For the first time in my life, I was actually relieved to be a "Legilimens"; knowing he was okay made it easier to breathe(and to stay in my square).
Harry was physically shaking as he moved to the left three squares.
Removing his crown, the white king tossed it at Harry's feet.
In the wake of our bittersweet victory, the remaining chess pieces parted and bowed, giving us a clear path to the door.
With a last desperate look in Ron's direction, Harry and Hermione rushed off the chessboard.
Catching sight of the crown, I stopped short.
And, impulsively snatching it up, I shrunk it and tucked it into my pocket.
The white king looked unimpressed, even without a face.
I just gave him a deadpan 'you assholes knocked out my friend-suck it up' look and darted after the others.
꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ
We charged into the next passageway.
"What if he's-?"
"He's okay."
Hermione and Harry turned to me, taken aback by how sure I was.
I smiled grimly.
"Ron's out cold, but he's alive-and that's enough for me right now. He wants us to get the Stone? Let's go get it."
There was a new set to my jaw that caught them off guard.
"What do you reckon's next?" Harry said, still unsurely surveying my suddenly serious expression(a sharp contrast to everything before Ron dramatically sacrificed himself for us)but trying to convince himself that I was right and Ron was okay.
"We've had Sprout's," Hermione counted off, "that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell-"
I made a derisive noise, and they glanced at me.
"-and Snape's," she finished.
We reached yet another door.
"Alright?" Harry whispered only to stop short when I was the one to grab the door handle.
"Let's get this over with," I said brusquely.
Harry and Hermione traded a look behind me.
As I opened the door, we were blasted with a foul smell that had us automatically covering our noses with our robes, our eyes even beginning to water.
And, laying flat on the floor in front of us-
I swore.
Colourfully.
"Jewel!" Hermione sounded shocked, her voice muffled by her robes.
Harry stared at me, jaw slack and eyes wide.
Apparently, he didn't know a lot of the words I rattled off were swear words-which makes my explicit exclamation educational, so ha.
"It's a bloody mountain troll!" I shot back, arms raised in angry disbelief. "Someone let in a mountain troll on Halloween, and none of the bloomin' professors-Dumbledore!-made the connection to the bloke that used a mountain troll to guard the Philosopher's goddamn Stone?! For the absolute love of-"
Incredulous, I looked back at the unconscious troll-which was somehow even larger than Trudy was and had a bloody lump on its head.
Well, at least Quirrell's good for that much.
-I am not looking forward to living with Pansy after this.
"How is this not enough proof for you lot?"
To my surprise, they looked a bit wary when they realised I was right about the ✧*̥˚ coincidence *̥˚✧that was Trudy, the mountain troll in this chamber-and Quirrell.
They couldn't put the two together in their heads, but the hesitation was more than I was expecting/could've hoped for.
"Come on, I can't breathe," Harry finally said(not wanting to start anything this close to the finish line and just glad we didn't have to fight this one, which I could agree with-despite how completely fed up I suddenly felt).
-I've lost a lot of respect for my teaching staff tonight, I won't lie(although, McGonagall gets a nod for the Wizard's Chess Set of Death-and Sprout, for trying to murder/strangle intruders with Devil's Snare).
Feeling a bit dizzy from the smell(which was also somehowworsethan Trudy), I didn't argue, looking at the troll once more as we carefully climbed over one of its colossal legs, absolutely done at this point, before following them through the door.
Instead of something really horrible and messed up, like a stack of overdue homework or Filch smiling sadistically as he held up those bloody chains of his and rattled them at us ominously, it was just a table with a row of seven differently shaped bottles.
"Snape's," Harry observed. "What do we have to do?"
"I won't lie," I mused as we moved to step over the threshold, "I was expecting something a bit more-"
Purple flames suddenly sprang up in the doorway behind us, blocking our way back.
At the same time, our way forward was obscured by a wall of black fire.
"...that."
"Look!" Hermione seized a random roll of paper, which had been left on the table beside the bottles.
Harry and I looked over her shoulder, reading:
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 bidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
Hermione let out an immense sigh of relief.
To Harry's amazement, she and I shared a smile.
"Brilliant," she said. "This isn't magic-it's logic-a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."
"Wizard madness," I hummed, nodding.
"But so will we, won't we?" Harry looked lost, having evidentially forgotten that we had the most logical Muggleborn in Hogwarts standing right next to us and yours truly(I might not be known for my logic, but I like to think I have a knack for thinking outside the box and picking out flaws in other people's plans/hypotheses).
"Of course not," Hermione replied. "Everything we need is here on this 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?"
"Give me a minute."
"I'll help," I said, slightly offended by their surprised faces. "I used to talk backwards and carry on conversations in Pig Latin to piss people off-this might be more Hermione's thing, but she's not the only mad genius here."
"It'll go faster if we work together," the brunette agreed, seeming pleased.
We put our heads together, reading and re-reading the riddle and whispering together while Harry watched on, before moving to the bottles; walking up and down the line, pointing at each of them, and whispering some more(I briefly worried that Quirrell might've moved them around but ultimately decided that, if he left Fluffy's bedroom door open, he'd clearly thrown caution to the wind and wouldn't have bothered).
At last, Hermione clapped her hands.
"Got it. The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire-toward the Stone."
There was just one tiny little issue-
"There's only enough for one of us," Harry pointed out. "That's hardly one swallow."
We all looked at each other.
"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" he questioned.
-I didn't have to be a mind reader to see where this was going.
The "you" and not "us" didn't escape me, either.
Hermione and I both pointed at a rounded bottle on the far right.
"You drink that. No, listen-" he said before we could argue, "get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy-Jewel already sent Illyius to Dumbledore, so he's probably already on his way back. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really."
"The fact that you just said Snape," I stated unyieldingly, green eyes flaring with their own kind of fire, "is why we're going to halve that bloody potion-no. You don't get a say in this. You're my brother, Harry-did you really think, for a second, that I'd just leave and, if Dumbledore doesn't make it in time, what? Not on me?" My shrug was downright sardonic. "If we're gonna go down, we'll do it together-and all that cliché, cheesy shit."
"But-"
"I don't care if there isn't enough potion for two of us-" my voice sharpened like the blade of a katana, cutting him off, "we'll have to just hope whatever we can get is enough. Either we both go, or neither of us does."
"Jules, I know you don't want me going alone, but stopping Voldemort from getting the Stone is more imp-"
"Nothing is more important than you coming out of this alive, not to me."
Harry didn't seem to know what to say which is, fair.
Even Hermione looked a bit speechless.
Knowing this wasn't a battle he was going to win, Harry nodded finally in resignation...while being secretly relieved he didn't have to do this by himself.
"But Harry-" Hermione looked anxious, "what if You-Know-Who's with him?"
"Well-we were lucky once, weren't we?" he pointed at his forehead, shooting a glance my way. "We might get lucky again."
Hermione's lip was trembling.
Before I could warn him, she'd abruptly dashed at Harry and thrown her arms around him.
"Hermione!"
"Harry-you're a great wizard, you know."
"I'm not as good as you."
Harry looked embarrassed as she let him go.
I pulled a face, feeling awkward as they had their little heart-to-heart.
Looking down, I checked my watch and bit my lip.
"Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things-friendship and bravery and-oh Harry-be careful!"
Just as I was about to go for the bottle, I found myself being hug-attacked too.
"The same thing goes for you, Jewel. You're my best friend-and the first friend I ever made here at Hogwarts. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."
Some of the heartfelt sentiment was lost when I spat out some of her hair, which had gotten in my mouth(she has a lot of hair), but I was touched.
"I've never had a best friend before," I suddenly admitted, awkwardly avoiding looking at her surprised face as she pulled away, "but you and Ron...you've gotten closer to that than anyone, so, uh-take care of yourself and that idiot, yeah?"
Hermione's face softened, and she nodded determinedly.
"You drink first," Harry told her. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"
"Positive," she said.
Picking up the round bottle at the end of the row, she took a long sip and shuddered.
"It's not poison?" Harry asked anxiously.
If I wasn't so focused on mentally psyching myself up for my 'plan?' to deal with Quirrell(Merlin knows what I'll do if he has Voldemort in there with him; at this point, I'm basically making things up as I go along), I would've given him a deadpan look, or shot off a snarky remark, that would've done Professor Snape proud.
"No-but it's like ice."
"Not surprising," I remarked absentmindedly, idly playing with my wand. "Fire door, icy potion. Worry when it's slimy. Or gluey."
"Quick, go," Harry urged, "before it wears off."
"Good luck-take care."
"GO!"
Hermione vanished through the purple fire.
Harry picked up the smallest bottle, and I stopped twirling my wand.
"I'll go first-" I said quickly, taking the bottle before he could argue and forcing back the lump in my throat, "just in case you get any ideas."
I looked at him wryly.
After checking how much potion we had to work with, I took a tiny sip.
Hermione wasn't kidding, it was like knocking back ice water;sliding down my throat, and spreading out through my body from my toes to my fingertips.
"I'm not sure how well it'll work on such a low dose," I warned, handing the bottle back over, "so we'll have to move fast."
Taking a deep breath, Harry downed his half.
"You know we might not be able to go back, right?" I added quietly.
We looked at each other with grim determination.
"Together?"
"'Til the end of the line, Scotch tape."
We shared a last look before bracing ourselves, my right hand clutching my wand at the ready, and stepping through the black flames.