When the moon took the sun's place in the sky, and all stragglers from the Common Room had gone; Aralynn Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter prepared to walk directly into danger. They took their time changing out of their pajamas. They knew, quite well, that there was a chance they wouldn't survive long enough to make it to morning. The thought of dying at all—let alone at such a young age—frightened them to their cores. Their fates were up in the air. Despite this, they continued. They would gladly sacrifice their own lives to protect the rest of the wizarding world. Once they stepped out of the Gryffindor Common Room, shielded by Harry's invisibility cloak, there would be no turning back. The chance of facing certain death at eleven and twelve years old didn't seem to matter when the burning of the world was at stake. Bravery, in this instance—just as many others—would have to conquer fear.

Aralynn Weasley tiptoed around the beds of her sleeping bunkmates. She stood before her vanity, staring deeply into her reflection. She tied her hair up, forcing even breaths as she did. There was no way of knowing if she was going to be able to see her own face again. At that moment, while she looked at her own features, she recognized the person in the mirror—which she hadn't been able to do since the year had begun. Whoever she was, in retrospect, was no longer important. Whether she was the person she was raised to believe she was, or not—the person she saw was brave, strong, and true. All other possibilities were trivial. She didn't have to be anyone in particular to be brave, strong, and true. Whatever was hidden about her life wouldn't change who she was at her core. For the first time in countless months, she knew herself.

Hermione Granger's reflection appeared behind hers in the mirror. Aralynn focused her eyes on the girl's grim expression. "Are you ready?" she whispered.

Aralynn took one last opportunity to view herself. She exhaled calmly. "As I'll ever be."

Together, they met Ron and Harry in front of the fireplace. They gazed at each other, likely trying to remember what their friends' faces looked like before anything could go wrong. They took a moment to clasp hands. The hour of question had finally rung.

Harry took the folded invisibility cloak out from underneath his shirt. "It might be best to test it out here," he said. "We need to know if the four of us will be able to fit underneath it."

Aralynn nodded. "If not, other measures will need to be taken."

They huddled together while Harry placed the cloak over their heads. From what they could tell, it seemed to be working. Just as the cloth was being removed, the dark silhouette of someone appeared from the corner. They nearly jumped out of their skin… until they realized that it was Neville Longbottom. He was wearing teddy bear pajamas.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, attempting to falsify confidence through his wavering voice. "You're trying to leave again, aren't you?"

Aralynn held up her hands while Harry whisked the cloak out of sight. "Now, Neville—this isn't what it looks like."

"What is it, then?" His words quaked far too much for his efforts to steel himself to succeed. He was shaking, but he also wasn't backing down. Perhaps Neville had finally had enough. "Stop whatever it is you're planning. If you get caught, you'll doom Gryffindor."

Harry stepped forward. He wanted to try and reason with the boy. "Neville, please—we know what is at stake, but this is important."

"Life or death," said Hermione.

"I don't believe you," Neville croaked. "I won't let you go." The boy stepped in front of the portrait and raised his fists. He tried desperately to temper his trembling. He looked ready to topple at any moment.

Nevertheless, Aralynn had to credit his courage.

"Don't be stupid, Neville," said Ron quietly. His voice almost sounded dangerous. "You have to let us pass."

"I'm not stupid!" roared Neville. "You're the ones who have been telling me that I'm braver than I think—that I should stand up to people!"

"We recognize you for that," said Aralynn, "but, Neville, this isn't the time."

Neville repositioned his lowering arms. He held his fists tighter. "You'll have to fight me. If you want to go by—you'll have to. Hit me, then."

Aralynn and Hermione eyed each other. They seemed to be communicating without speaking. Hermione tilted her head. Aralynn nodded.

The brunette girl stepped forward. She drew her wand. "Neville, I want you to know this now… I'm really sorry." She waved her wand. "Petrificus Totalus."

Neville suddenly went rigid. His statue-like body held strong, briefly, before tottering and falling to the floor. The sound resembled that of collapsing stone. Harry and Ron looked somewhat alarmed.

"Hermione," called Harry. "What did you do to him?"

Hermione tucked her wand away. "The Full Body-Bind Curse," she answered. "He'll be paralyzed for a while, but it'll fade. Come on, we haven't got any time to waste."

Once more, they clustered together. Harry covered them with his cloak again. Hopefully, all their body parts had disappeared underneath it. They couldn't be sure, their test had been so brief, but it was a risk they were going to have to take. They exited the Common Room. They may as well have been stepping directly into fire.

They shuffled quietly through the empty corridors. Their nerves were almost getting the best of them. With every little sound, and every dark statue, they thought, surely, that they had been caught by one of the professors, or worse—Mr. Filch. However, they were in the clear. They hadn't come across a single soul. That was, until they encountered Mrs. Norris sitting at the top of the third floor's steps. They maneuvered, as stealthily as possible, around her. She had turned her lamp-like eyes in their direction but did nothing. She must have sensed that they were there, but couldn't see them, and therefore felt no desire to alert Filch. They tiptoed down the hall until they reached the door that they were sure Fluffy was behind.

Unfortunately, it stood ajar. Snape had already been there.

"What if we're too late?" whispered Hermione.

"It's still a chance we'll have to take," Aralynn replied.

They stepped into the room. As soon as they did, they were nearly knocked over by three large sniffing snouts. Fluffy could smell them, but he couldn't see them. Nonetheless, he knew that someone was in the room. He was growling lowly and threateningly. They had to put him to sleep as quickly as possible. Harry took out the ugly flute that Hagrid had whittled him for Christmas and began to play. It was a hideous tune, if it could be called that at all, but it did what needed to be done in putting the dog to sleep. They pulled the cloak off their bodies and shut the door. They didn't want to risk being caught simply because it was still open. While Fluffy lay sleeping on the floor, Ron moved to pull the trapdoor back. He peered down it, frowning.

"What's down there?" asked Aralynn.

"I don't know," he answered. "I can't see anything."

"Who'll go first? Hermione?"

Hermione went stark white. "Me? No!"

Ron glowered at her. He gritted his teeth. "Fine. I'll go first."

Harry suddenly handed the flute off to Aralynn. Fluffy began to shift and growl. She scrambled to play it again before the dog fully woke. She watched the other three while she made sure the dog stayed asleep.

"I'll go first," said Harry. He took a breath to brace himself. Though, he wasn't sure there was any way to actually prepare for a fall into uncertain blackness. He slowly lowered himself down the hole until he was simply holding on by his fingertips. He seemed hesitant to let go, but after a moment, he did. He had landed on something solid not too far down. "It's safe!"

One after another, Ron and Hermione followed Harry through the trapdoor. Aralynn slowly slid over to it while still playing the flute. Once she moved it from her lips, and Fluffy began to stir, she took the leap. She thought for sure that she was going to splatter like a bug, but she didn't. She had, however, flattened Ron by falling on top of him. She scrabbled to pull herself off.

Ron was winded. His voice was hoarse. "Thanks for that, Ara."

Aralynn offered an awkward smile. "Sorry."

Harry was poking at whatever they had landed on with his feet. "It's like a plant," he said. He would have counted them lucky for it being there until he noticed that its vines were wrapping around his limbs. "Uh… guys?"

However, they, too, were being encased by the plant. They were horrified. Were they going to die before they were even able to confront Snape? Ron was trying to rip them away, but they only seemed to tighten with his movements. "What do we do?!"

Hermione had managed to get away from the plant before it got a good grip on her. Aralynn had been trying to follow, but the tendrils wrapped far too tightly around her ankles. She looked up at the girl desperately. "Hermione."

"Let me think," said the girl. Aralynn gawked at her. What time did she have to think?

Ron was practically fist-fighting the tendrils. He didn't seem the notice that, the more he moved, the faster he was consumed. Harry was squirming as well, but not nearly as bad as Ron was. Aralynn thought certainly that her brother was doomed.

"I've got it!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's the Devil's Snare! If only I could remember what Professor Sprout had said about it. It was sort of like a rhyme. Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare…"

"It's deadly fun…" Aralynn gasped out as a vine wrapped around her throat.

"—but with sulk in the sun! That's it! The Devil's Snare hates light. I could light a fire, but… oh, there's no wood!"

"HERMIONE!" Ron screamed. "WOOD? ARE YOU SERIOUS? ARE YOU NOT A WITCH?"

Suddenly, the girl livened. "Right!" She pointed her wand at the tendrils grasping her friends. "Lacarnum Inflamari!"

The Devil's Snare seemed to shriek when the jets of flame were whisked at it. It immediately released Harry, Ron, and Aralynn and retreated from the light. They took the opportunity to hurry out of its clutches and down a stone passageway. Aralynn was still picking small, dead pieces of roots out of her hair when they came to the next chamber. It was a large, brilliantly lit room. Near the high, curving ceiling flew dozens of tiny little birds above head. There were so many of them that the fluttering of their wings was almost deafening.

Across the room was a large, ancient, and heavy-looking door. They eyed it, trying to figure out what the challenge was. Ron tapped his foot. "Maybe the birds are there to protect the door?" he suggested rather haphazardly. "I guess they could come down and peck your eyes out if you got too close."

Harry was watching the birds. "Could be," he shrugged. "Wait here." He bolted for the door, shielding his face as he went. It was clear that he had been expecting to be savagely poked at by the beaks of birds, but he reached the door unscathed. They hadn't even attempted to swoop for him. He was trying to pry the door open. He even tried the Unlocking Charm—to no avail. He threw his hands up. "What now?"

Aralynn was staring the birds down. The way they were flying was throwing her off. Something about them just didn't seem right. Their appearance in the light was… unusual. They were almost like little jewels. They were glittering, even. Birds didn't glitter. "Guys," she called. "They're not birds. They're keys."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. He scanned the room until he spotted a couple of brooms. "Oh. We're meant to ride the brooms to find the key to open the door."

"How do we know which one is the right one?" asked Ron.

"I'm assuming it'll resemble the lock," Hermione stated, gesturing to it. "It'll probably look ancient and rusty. Expect it to be heavy."

They each mounted the given brooms and flew into the air. They tried going after keys they thought would fit the door. The keys, however, were far too fast for them. Every attempt at snatching them was expertly evaded. They were beginning to grow rightfully frustrated. Harry was hovering above them, using his adept Seeker eyes to find it. "There it is!" he called, pointing to a big, fat rusty key with bright blue wings. One of which was damaged.

They all went after it but, like the rest, it was just too fast. It had to be up to Harry to catch it. After all, he was the youngest Seeker in a century. If anyone could do it; it would be him. Even his sole attempts were failing. They had to strategize—to which Harry suggested they box it in so it would have nowhere to flee to. He devised a plan. It worked.

It had been caught, used, and released again. It fluttered clumsily back with the rest of the keys after its use. It had suffered through quite a beating. Even though it was just a key, Aralynn felt sad for it.

They walked slowly through the next corridor. It was black. There was no seeing even two inches in front of their faces. For the first time since they had gotten down there, they felt afraid. Attempting solidarity and consolation, they took each other's hands. It was relieving to know that they were there with friends who were within arm's reach.

They weren't expecting to ever see light again. They had been walking in pure darkness for so long that they were positive there was no more light left in the world. They would get lost indefinitely and die down there. Yet, with another step, fires roared to life and brought sight back into the room. They were almost blinded by it.

Before them stood a tremendous, life-sized chessboard. White pieces stood dormant on one side, while black pieces lined the other. They stood on the edge of the board, mouths hanging open with astonishment. It was a grand sight, undoubtedly, but what were they supposed to do? What was the challenge here? Harry and Hermione looked confused. Ron and Aralynn looked mortified.

"Now this," spluttered Aralynn, "is madness."

Harry jerked his attention over. "What? Why? Do you know what we're supposed to do?"

Ron swallowed hard. "Play the game."

"Play the game?" Hermione repeated, panicky. "How?"

"Well… I think we're going to have to be chessmen, Hermione."

"How in the bloody hell are we supposed to do that?" spat Aralynn through clenched teeth.

"We'll have to take some of the pieces' places," Ron told them. "I should direct. None of you are very good at chess. Not even you, Ara."

Aralynn chuckled humorlessly, breathily. "You're not wrong."

Ron directed them to their places. Harry replaced one of the bishops, Hermione became a rook, and Aralynn stood in as one of the eight pawns. They were feeling unconfident about this particular challenge. Wizard's Chess was brutal, and this situation could very well result in one of their deaths.

Once they were settled, white was the first to move—such were the rules of chess. They played through the game via Ron's direction. He was moving them through quite cleanly. If he had only one talent, it would definitely be Wizard's Chess. They had faced no issue the entire time. Though, with each order, they changed places with bated breath. They were expecting to be impaled at any given moment.

As Aralynn moved around the board, she thought about how her life as of late seemed to resemble chess. Her life, like the game, was always undergoing unexpected changes. Each step had to be carefully calculated, and its fate loomed staggeringly in wait. She had had a lot of time to reflect on the events that had taken place up until her current situation. Being a pawn seemed to come naturally to her—in more ways than just a game of chess. The oddness that had followed her since her confrontation with Garrick Ollivander and Lucius Malfoy at Diagon Alley finally seemed to be piecing together. Since she received her Hogwarts acceptance letter, many people seemed to treat her as though she were someone different. Naturally, she thought it peculiar, and even began questioning her own identity, but she had never put great stock into their words. Aralynn had felt confused about who she was, but she had merely summed it up to personal character rather than literal identity. Funnily enough, it had only taken a match of Wizard's Chess for her to realize that she had been questioning the wrong aspects of her life.

The feelings of doubt didn't stem from what she felt her personality and character were supposed to be, but instead, who she actually was. The picture wasn't clear, but the odd behavior—the connections with Harry; the nightmares of past events she couldn't place, but felt she knew; the scars… they were connecting like pieces of a puzzle. Just as Dumbledore had said.

There were sounds of a struggle and Aralynn jerked her attention to their second knight piece when it was taken and dragged off the board. The other three were looking quite shaken. Harry was swaying back and forth uncomfortably. Ron explained his reasoning. They didn't question him.

"What's next?" asked Hermione. "We've been idle for a while."

Ron nodded. "I know. I've been trying to think of the next move to make. We've nearly beaten them, but… there are a few more things that need to happen before then. I've been taking my time to figure out what the next move is, but… I know now."

Aralynn stared at Ron. "Which is?"

The redhaired boy closed his eyes. He was silent for a long time before they snapped back open. "I have to be taken."

Harry, Hermione, and Aralynn, in unison, hollered. "NO!"

"What other choice do we have?!" he snapped. "That's the game of chess! Sacrifices must be made!"

Harry was shaking his head. "Ron, no! There was to be another way!"

"There isn't! Do you want to stop Snape or not, Harry? This is the only way! He could have the Stone by now!"

Having Ron be taken by the opposing queen was their only solution. Once it happened, Harry would be free to checkmate their king. Once that happened, the game would be over, and they would be able to continue… but at what cost? At the cost of Ron himself?

They watched, nauseated, as Ron made his move. As soon as he took a single step, the white queen came lunging in. She whacked Ron upside the head with her stone sword violently. She dragged his body off the board. Though Harry assured he was simply unconscious, he appeared to be dead. Aralynn felt her heart breaking.

Harry checked the king. The game was over. They couldn't go to Ron's aide. They had to progress as quickly as possible. They spared him one last concerned glance before ushering on. They were silent while they walked. They didn't want to discuss the very real possibility that Ron was dead.

"How many challenges do we have left?" asked Aralynn.

Hermione was thinking. "Let's see… Devil's Snare – Professor Sprout, Keys – Flitwick, Chess had to have been McGonagall. Only Snape and Quirrell's remain."

They went past a room that had an unconscious troll lying on the ground—Quirrell's challenge. It was even larger than the one they had fought in the bathroom on Halloween. The smell of the creature could have been enough to stop them dead. They were thankful that they didn't have to deal with it. They figured it would be the only time in their lives that they would be thanking Snape for anything.

They pushed a door open to reveal only a simple table with various colored and shaped glass vials on top of it. There was nothing particularly threatening about this trial. It seemed like it would be the easiest one to accomplish. At least, that's what they hoped. They approached the table, and as soon as they were all inside, the perimeter of the room erupted in flames. It was no ordinary fire—in fact, it was purple. Black flames separated them from the door leading onwards. There was a scroll on the tabletop. Aralynn picked it up and began 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 hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,

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 onwards, 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."

"It's a logical puzzle," said Hermione. "That should be easy enough to figure out."

Harry stared at her. "It will?"

"Of course, Harry. Aralynn, would you come help me?"

Aralynn moved forward, reading over the scroll several times with her. They studied the bottles and discussed them amongst themselves. Harry stood back, watching them work together to deduce the puzzle. They seemed to be in their element. They were smiling at each other, even. Laughing. They pointed to different bottles and offered suggestions. Sometimes one or the other was right; sometimes they were wrong. It would simply take time to figure out.

"We've got it," said Aralynn after a while. "This bottle—the smallest one—will get us through the black fire. That rounded bottle at the opposite end will take the drinker backward, through the purple fire."

Harry walked over to the tiny bottle and picked it up. "We won't all be able to go on. There's barely enough in here for one person. We might be able to fit two, but… it'd be a longshot."

Aralynn was looking at Harry. Her eyes flickered to his scar. "It begs the question of who is going where."

The boy sucked in a solid bout of air. He pushed it out slowly, adjusting the glasses on his face. "Hermione – Aralynn, drink that one." He gestured to the rounded bottle. "Go back for Ron and get help. I'll have to go stop Snape."

Hermione glanced at Aralynn. "What if it's You-Know-Who and not Snape? What if they're in there together?"

Harry shook his head. "We can't stop now, can we? It's likely only one of us will be able to pass through the black flames, and it should be me. Especially if it is Voldemort. I survived him once. I can do it again… hopefully."

"You're a great wizard, Harry. I have faith in you."

Harry flushed. "Not as great as you, Hermione."

Hermione chuckled. "All of our skills are valuable in one way or another."

They hugged.

"You'll go back to Ron?" asked Harry.

She nodded. "Go on, then."

Harry exhaled sharply. He took the remaining swig from the bottle and went through the fire. When he was gone, Aralynn and Hermione turned to each other. They were grinning, almost sadly, at one another.

"You know I have to do this," said Aralynn.

Hermione nodded. "I do. It's the only way you'll get answers."

Aralynn grinned at her. "We have the same theory, don't we?"

Hermione laughed. "I reckon we do."

Aralynn took the bottle Harry had drunk from. There was only a very minuscule amount left. She mixed it with the nettle wine, turning to look at Hermione. "We're sure this is going to work, right?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but for a very short time. Stand by the fire so you can drink it and run. I'll get back to Ron once you're gone."

Aralynn stood next to the black flames. They were making her legs burn. She took the bottle and held it in her hand. For a moment, she and Hermione just looked at each other. The redhead took a deep breath. "This is it. The moment of truth."

Hermione reached out to touch her hand. "It'll be better once it's over. You'll know then."

The girls embraced one another tightly. Whether or not they would be seeing each other again was unclear. They wanted their, possibly, last moments spent expressing the friendship they valued so deeply in one another. Aralynn stepped back, fingering the bottle in her hands. "You're the smartest witch I know, Hermione."

Hermione smiled brightly at her. "You're the smartest witch I know," she said, "and the bravest."

"I'll see you." Aralynn took the bottle and downed it. When she felt her body go cold, she lurched herself through the fire. Luckily, she had been standing next to it; as within the next second, the sensation was gone. She set the glass bottle down and ran down the corridor until she caught up with Harry. He was quite surprised to see her.

"Aralynn, what are you doing here? You're supposed to help Ron."

"Hermione is," she said. "I wasn't going to let you do this alone, Harry."

"Kind of foolish, don't you think?"

"And you aren't?"

Harry grinned. "Fair point."

They were standing dormant in the hall. They could see light nearby. That would be the final step for them—when everything came to a close. They would face off with Snape, and they'd either win, or they'd die. It was as simple as that. They were glad to be doing it together.

Harry reached his hand out. Aralynn stared at it, and for once, didn't recoil at the thought of touching him. She took it. They held each other tightly. The connection sparked, but Aralynn didn't feel the urge to pull away. The longer they held hands, the stronger it grew. It made them feel protected—safe—whole.

They turned forward, and with linked fingers, entered the room.