XIII. We Take on Challenges That Are Strangely Tailored to Our Own Abilities

No matter how much I hated that voice, I really wished it would come back and help me with my exams. Despite my thorough preparation, the sheer pressure made my mind go blank on every question. After some thinking, I was able to recall all the answers to memory, but my test anxiety convinced me I had failed. The practical exams were less stressful—it's far easier to demonstrate a spell than to answer questions about it.

But, the exams turned out to be less of a disaster than I thought. I had been worried about running out of time because I take longer to read than the average person, and Dumbledore overheard. He offered to administer my exams himself and give me extra time. The only downside was that I had to take them earlier than everyone else, so I had even less time to study. Although, I enjoyed watching Harry, Ron, and Hermione stress out the day of the exams while I had already gotten it over with.

The best thing about it was that I didn't have to attend any more classes for the rest of the year. I was free. But on exam day as I was taking a stroll through the corridors, Snape decided to prove once again that I wasn't his favorite.

"SILVERWOOD!" he yelled, reminiscent of the time he gave me detention.

I froze before turning around. "What did I do?"

"Why aren't you taking your exams?" The coolness in his voice didn't hide the irritation.

"Why aren't you administering yours?" I didn't regret mouthing off to him at all. We wouldn't have to see each other again until next September. He'd forget by then.

"I don't have a class right now," he snapped. "But you do. Why aren't you there?"

"Dumbledore let me take my exams early," I said with a shrug.

His eyes narrowed into a demanding glare. "Why?"

"I'm dyslexic, so I get extra time."

"Dyslexic," he repeated. "I'll remember that."

Something about his tone made me hope he would forget that over the summer, too.

Taking the exams early wasn't nearly the hardest part. My mind couldn't seem to forget that Voldemort himself had tried to kill me a couple of days ago. The thought that the immense pain could return and finished me off for good kept creeping up, no matter how many times I attempted to force it out. I tried focusing on the test to distract myself from my fears, but my fears ended up distracting me from the test.

Harry felt the same way. After all, he wasn't the only one who was attacked in the Forbidden Forest that night.

Hermione and Ron, on the other hand, were able to give their full attention to the exams. Even the Sorcerer's Stone had left their minds until the test-taking came to an end, and they were overjoyed when it did. Hermione said it was far easier than she thought it would be, and Ron was simply glad to be done. But Harry and I weren't free from any stress, considering Voldemort might come after us at any moment. Harry's scar burning at every moment wasn't a good sign.

"Go see Madam Pomfrey," Ron suggested.

"I'm not ill," Harry said. "I think it's trying to tell me something. What if it means danger's coming?"

"Harry, relax," Hermione said. "The Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. He's the only person You-Know-Who was ever scared of."

"Yeah, and Hagrid said he wouldn't tell anyone how to get past Fluffy," I tried to assure him, but the uncertainty in my voice gave away my fear. I had to agree with Harry: danger was coming.

Suddenly, Harry jumped to his feet. "We've got to go see Hagrid. Right now."

Before we could ask him to explain, he was already sprinting in the direction of Hagrid's hut. We exchanged confused looks, but followed him nonetheless.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants most is a dragon, and then some stranger shows up with an egg in his pocket?" Harry questioned as he caught his breath. "Do you really think that's a coincidence? Why didn't I see this before?"

"What are you talking about?" I said, but Harry ignored me.

Harry banged on Hagrid's door with urgency. Hagrid answered the knocking, and a smile appeared on his face when he saw us.

"Finished yer exams, eh?" Hagrid said. "Got time fer tea?"

Ron lit up. "That would be—"

"Sorry, Hagrid, we can't," Harry interrupted. "We've got to ask you something. It's important."

"Well, come on in, then," Hagrid offered, suspicious. He was expecting a question about the Stone.

Harry started speaking as soon as the door was shut. "The night you won Norbert, who did you win it from?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid, who seemed much more relaxed since our question was unrelated to the Stone. "He wouldn' take his cloak off. Yeh get plenty folks like that in Hogsmeade—might've bin a dragon dealer, yeh never know."

"And what did you talk to him about?" Harry inquired. "Hogwarts? Your job?"

"Maybe," Hagrid answered. "Can' remember too well 'cause he kept getting me drinks… but he did ask me 'bout my job, and I told him 'bout what I do, what sorts o' creatures I take care of… told him I wanted a dragon, o' course, and he said he'd gimme his egg but he had ter be sure I could handle it… so I told him after Fluffy a dragon would be easy."

Harry seemed alarmed by this news. "Did he ask about Fluffy?"

"Well, o' course he did. Who wouldn' ask 'bout Fluffy?" Hagrid joked. "So, I told him Fluffy's a piece o' cake once you calm him down… all yeh gotta do is play him some music and he goes straight ter sleep—Hey, where are yeh goin'?"

It was too late. Harry was already dashing out the door, and Hermione, Ron, and I followed, still confused.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Don't you guys get it?" Harry snapped. We shook our heads. "It could've been Snape under that cloak! Or Voldemort! And then they'd have all the information they need to get the Stone! We have to go to Dumbledore—where's his office?"

"I'll show you," I said, walking so fast that Harry had a hard time keeping up. I didn't want to believe that Harry was right, but I couldn't deny the possibility. And it absolutely terrified me.

What would Voldemort do to me if he came back? He'd already tried to kill me once for not following in his footsteps. Would he try again, and succeed? Or would he force me to be the mini-version of him everyone thought I was? Would he make me kill my friends—or worse, expel them? I shuddered at the thought.

"Where do you four think you're going?" someone asked. We whipped around to see Professor McGonagall squinting at us with suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore's office," I said.

"Why?" McGonagall inquired.

I looked expectantly at the other three, waiting for them to come up with an excuse. Of course, they stared back at me, too scared to lie to her.

"Oh, we just have questions about the exams," I lied. McGonagall didn't quite seem

convinced, probably due to my critical lack of lying skills.

"You can ask me."

"No, you look busy, we woulddidn't want to bother you—"

"You couldn't speak to Professor Dumbledore if you tried, anyway," McGonagall informed us. "He left an hour ago on urgent notice from the Ministry."

"He's gone?" Harry squeaked. "But this is important!"

"More important than the Ministry of Magic?" McGonagall retorted.

"Yes!" I said. "The entire fate of the wizarding world rests on this!"

McGonagall put her head in her hands and sighed. "Look, Silverwood, final exams are important, but not that important—"

"This isn't about exams!" Harry interjected. "It's about the Sorcerer's Stone!"

McGonagall looked as if Snape had given points to Gryffindor. "You know about—how—"

"It's a long story," Harry sighed. "We think someone's going to steal it."

"Well," McGonagall said, uninterested, "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow, and I'm sure you could voice your concerns then."

"We can't wait that long—"

"I assure you the Stone is very well-protected and can last another day."

"But—"

"I know what I'm talking about," McGonagall snapped. "Now, why don't you forget about the Stone and go enjoy the lovely weather?" She hurried off, shaking her head.

"I forgot you were a bloody awful liar," Ron muttered.

I glared at him. "Well, if you're so much better, you can do the lying from now on."

That shut him up.

"Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight," Harry stated once McGonagall had turned the corner.

"You can't be sure," Hermione countered.

"So, you're saying it's just a coincidence that Dumbledore has to leave right when Snape gets all the information he needs?" Harry said. Hermione didn't have a comeback this time. "I'll bet you a hundred Galleons that Snape sent that letter just to get Dumbledore out of the way."

"Good afternoon," said a monotonous voice from behind. We whirled around to see our worst nightmares come true: Snape was standing in front of us with a twisted grin frozen on his face. How much had he heard?

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he continued.

None of us knew how to respond. I raised an eyebrow at Ron to remind him that he would be ridding the world of my awful lying from now on.

We made eye contact and he hesitantly opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, we were just, um, doing things…"

"You should be more careful," Snape warned. "People might think you're…" He paused for an eternity as he stared intently at each of us, thinking of all the ways he could take points from Gryffindor before finishing his sentence: "…up to something." He strutted off with his usual overdramatic cape flip.

"Oh, and I'm the bad liar," I teased Ron once Snape was out of earshot. "At least I can come up with lies to tell."

Ron's face reddened. "Shut up—"

"Oh, don't worry, Professor Snape," I mocked in a ridiculously high voice. "We were just doing things."

"I do not sound like that."

Harry led us back outside, far away from any teacher. "I have a plan," he said. "Two of us should wait outside the teachers' lounge to keep an eye on Snape—Hermione, Sadie, why don't you do that?"

"And what if we get caught?" I asked.

"Well, if anyone asks, just say you have questions about the exams," Ron mocked. "Remember how well that worked last time?"

"I swear to Merlin—"

"Anyways," Harry cut us off, "Ron and I will wait outside the third-floor corridor. Come on, we should go."

Hermione and I loitered by the staff room, worrying that Snape might have already left. After about five minutes, the door creaked open, and Snape appeared in the doorway, seeing us at once.

He raised an eyebrow. "Still inside?"

"Oh, we're waiting for Professor Flitwick," Hermione lied flawlessly. "We were confused about one of the exam questions." She could give me a lesson or two in deception.

"Professor Flitwick's in his office at the moment," Snape said. "Why don't you two stay here and I'll go fetch him for you?" That evil grin appeared on his face again. I didn't trust him.

"Thank you so much, Professor," Hermione said with fake sweetness. We exchanged confused looks as he walked away.

"Do you think Snape's nice enough to actually get Flitwick for us?" Hermione whispered.

"No," I answered, regaining my confidence. "Bet he's just using that as an excuse to get away. He could be on way his to Fluffy right now."

"What do we do, then?

"We follow him, like we said we would," I said.

"But what if he comes back?" Hermione worried.

"Fine, I'll follow him and you can stay here," I compromised. "If he comes back, just say I went to the bathroom or something."

I crept down the corridor and peeked around the corner. But Hermione and I had argued for too long: Snape had disappeared.

Unwilling to risk looking for him and getting caught, I went back to the safety of Hermione.

"Yeah, I have no idea where he is," I said.

Hermione looked around frantically. "We should go warn Harry and Ron."

Just then, we heard distant footsteps and a voice echoing through the hall that could only belong to Snape.

"They said they had questions about the exams, I'll show you where they are…" He was putting our lies to the test.

"Really? Both of them got over a hundred percent…" It was Flitwick.

Hermione seemed excited at this news, but I was more focused on the present problem. Unless Hermione had something brilliant up her sleeve, we didn't have a plan for talking to Flitwick. How could we be confused if we got all of the questions right?

"Do you have a question to ask him?" I whispered.

Hermione shook her head. "Do you?"

I also shook my head.

She shrugged. "We can just say we forgot."

"No, there's two of us, that wouldn't make sense!" I peeked around the corridor. They were coming closer. "Let's just get away before Snape figures out we were really after him."

I motioned for her to follow me and quietly led her in the opposite direction of the voices. We turned the corner, and an idea popped into my head.

This was the corridor Fred, George, and I found ourselves in when Snape and Quirrell were approaching. The corridor with the perfect hiding place.

I tiptoed over to where the hidden door was and whispered "Ostium Revelio," just like George had done before. To my relief, the door appeared, and I pulled it opened and dragged Hermione inside.

Hermione's jaw dropped as the door vanished. "How did you—"

I put my hand over her mouth.

We could only catch snippets of what Snape and Flitwick were saying. "Where did they… that's weird… talk to them later…"

Their footsteps began getting fainter, and it wasn't until they were completely gone that I revealed the door again and we left. We ran towards the third-floor corridor, looking every which way for any sign of Snape and Flitwick. Luckily, they were out of sight, but so were Harry and Ron. Confused, we went back to the common room, and found Harry and Ron collapsed on the couch.

"McGonagall caught us," Ron explained.

"Snape caught us," I replied. Neither of us needed to explain our problem further.

"Well, then, there's only one thing left to do," Harry declared. "I'm going to have to get to the Stone first."

"Are you mad?" Ron exclaimed.

"The Stone's supposed to be so well-protected that not even Voldemort can compete," I reminded him. "How do you think you're going to get to it at all?"

"With determination," Harry said.

Hermione sighed. "Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, Harry," she said. "You could get expelled for sneaking out again."

"So what?" Harry retorted. "Don't you understand? If Voldemort gets the Stone, there won't be a Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll blow it to bits or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Do you think he'll leave us alone—or alive—if he comes back? He killed my parents, remember? And he's going to do the same to me, and then all of you. So I'm going through that trapdoor no matter what you three say."

"And I don't want to imagine what he'll do to me," I blurted, remembering how Voldemort had asked me to join him in the forest. "What if he forces me to work for him, or makes me hurt you guys… or kill people… I don't want to have to kill anyone…"

"That took a dark turn," Ron mumbled.

"So, are we going through this trapdoor or not?" Hermione asked.

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. "We?"

"You think we'd let you go alone?" Ron said.

I chuckled. "Yeah, you'd die within five minutes."

"But if you guys get caught, you'll be expelled too," Harry warned,

"Sadie and I won't," Hermione said. "Flitwick said we both got over a hundred on his exam. They can't kick us out after that."

"And Ron has a wonderful personality," I added.

"So, how exactly are we planning on getting out?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I forget to tell you, someone returned the cloak to me," Harry said to our delight. "It should cover all four of us—if we actually remember to use it this time." I cringed at our past stupidity.

We spent hours in the common room flipping through various textbooks, hoping to find something that might prepare us for the protections against the Stone. Luckily, unlike the rest of us, Hermione didn't forget everything she knew once exams were over. But at the same time, we didn't think turning matches into needles would get us far.

Once we were sure everyone was asleep, we initiated our escape.

"Got the cloak?" Ron whispered to Harry, who checked his pockets and gave us a thumbs up. He was carrying Hagrid's flute, which we planned to use to play Fluffy to sleep.

"Good," Ron said. "I've got my pocket knife, too, in case we need it."

"Pocket knife?" I asked.

"It's another Weasley tradition," Ron explained. "Every first year gets to take this pocket knife with them for Hogwarts. It was my great-great-grandfather's. It's supposed to bring good luck or something."

"That's an… interesting tradition."

We began creeping toward the door when a squeaky voice stopped us. "Where are you guys going?"

Neville was behind us, frowning at us with his arms crossed. Harry hid the flute behind his back.

"When did you get here?" I asked.

"Three hours ago!" Neville whisper-shouted. Merlin, we really were idiots.

"You should go to bed, Neville," Harry coaxed.

Neville saw straight through us. "You're going out again, aren't you?"

We stayed silent.

"You can't," Neville continued, blocking the door. "You'll lose more points for Gryffindor!"

"Neville, this is important," Harry said.

"Didn't you hear what McGonagall said?" Neville responded. "Nothing's important enough to be out of bed past curfew!"

"But Neville—"

"I won't let you do it!" he said, putting his fists up. "I'll fight you!"

"Neville, please," Ron started. "Don't be an idiot—"

"I'm not an idiot!" Neville yelled. "Besides, you're the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yeah, to Malfoy, not us." Ron glanced at the clock on the wall. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

"Go on, fight me then," Neville challenged. "I'm ready!"

None of us knew quite what to do except Hermione. "I'm really sorry about this, Neville." She raised her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Neville's arms jerked to his side and his legs snapped together as he fell over, stiff as a board. He couldn't move a muscle except his eyes, which were frantically looking every which way.

I stared at Hermione in wonder. "What did you do?"

"Full Body-Bind." She turned to Neville again. "I'm so sorry, Neville, honestly."

We put the cloak on and rushed out of the common room, unwilling to waste another second.

Our hearts raced as we snuck through the corridors, flinching at even the smallest sounds. This time around, we made it past Mrs. Norris and Peeves undetected. The misfortune began when we reached Fluffy's room: the door had been left open a crack. Snape was already ahead of us.

"You guys can go back if you want," Harry offered. "Take the Cloak. I won't need it."

Ron laughed. "You can't be serious."

"Yeah, we're not ditching you now," I stated.

"We're coming, Harry," Hermione added. "And that's that."

Harry smiled and pocketed the cloak, leading us through the door. The three-headed dog greeted us with a growl, sniffing around with each of its three heads. Fortunately, we were hiding in a shadowed area of the room, or it would've seen us.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione asked.

"A harp, I think," Ron said. "Snape must have left it here."

"Maybe it wakes up once you stop playing," I suggested.

"Well, then, here goes nothing," Harry said, raising the flute. He inspected it for a few seconds before lowering it again. "Do any of you know how to play the flute?"

"Oh my Merlin, give me that," I snapped, snatching the flute out of his hands. I lifted it to my lips and began to play the first song I could think of: an unnamed melody I had composed years ago. Playing the flute was one of the ways I kept myself occupied before I could read or write. I had no idea how I still knew how to play, let alone how I remembered this piece, but it worked. Fluffy eyes began to droop, and his three heads started to lower to the ground. After a few measures, his eyes fully closed, and he drifted into sleep.

The other three were staring at me, jaws dropped. I nodded towards the trapdoor as if to say "hurry up and go," and they did so. Still playing the flute, I followed them. Ron took one for the team and jumped through first, and Hermione closed her eyes and did the same. Harry fell into the trapdoor next. I handed him the flute at the last possible second, and one of the dog's six eyes shot open, its gaze fixed on me. Its razor-sharp fangs snapped at me as I screamed and jumped back in panic, causing me to stumble into the hole in the floor.

I sighed in relief as I landed on something soft and smooth, breaking the fall. It was dim, and I couldn't make out the faces of the others. Their voices assured me they were still there.

"What is this stuff?" Ron asked.

"Some sort of plant, I think," Harry guessed. "Probably to break the fall."

"Come on, we should start looking for the Stone," I said, trying to step out of the plant, but I found myself unable to. Vines curled around my ankles, locking me in place.

"Hey, can anyone else not move?" I questioned. "Because that's going to be a bit of a logistical problem."

"I don't think this is just a plant," Hermione worried, struggling to break free. Harry, Ron, and I did the same, but the vines only toughened their grip, binding our legs so tightly they went numb. My mind raced until I came up with a plan.

"Ron, your pocket knife!" I shouted.

"Oh, right!" Ron slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the knife. He tried to slice through the vines, but he couldn't even make a dent. "It's not working," he said, his voice raised an octave.

"Wait—I know what this is!" Hermione announced, her face lighting up. "Devil's Snare! That's why the knife wouldn't work; there's only one way to kill it."

"Which is?" Harry urged.

"Well, um, I don't remember… Oh, what did Professor Sprout say?" Hermione said as the plant curled around my torso and chest, nearly suffocating me. "Oh right! It likes the dark and the damp—fire! That's how you kill it! But how are we going to light a fire in here—"

"ARE YOU MAD?" Ron yelled despite his shortage of breath. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?!"

"Oh, right! Incendio!" Blue flames shot out of Hermione's wand, and the plant soon began to deteriorate. We all gasped for breath as the vines released us in a matter of seconds. Hermione had a knack for saving the day with fire.

The dark passageway in front of us was the only path to take. We shared reluctant looks before stepping into corridor.

"I didn't know you could play the flute," Harry whispered in awe.

"You'd be amazed at what I can accomplish when I'm bored," I said.

"Except your homework," Hermione mumbled.

"My work ethic isn't relevant right now."

"Speaking of relevance," Ron said, "what do you guys think is next?"

"Well, the Devil's Snare must have been Professor Sprout's," Hermione said. "So, we still have Quirrell, Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, Dumbledore, and whoever Trelawney is. So, one down, six to go."

We finally reached a large, silver door. A light shone through the crack beneath it and a strange buzzing sound came from inside.

"What do you think is in there?" Harry asked.

"A lot of angry bees," I guessed, hesitantly pushing the door open a crack. We were greeted by a blinding light streaming through the door, forcing us to shield our eyes. Something shiny zipped past my face. I looked up and noticed we were surrounded by hundreds, maybe even thousands of glimmering keys with wings attached. They were darting past each other in a swarm so thick we could barely make out the wooden door on the other side of the room.

"Maybe we just have to get past them?" Harry guessed, running through the keys to the door. He pushed and pulled on the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"I think the keys are here for a reason, Harry," I sassed. I easily snatched one of the keys from the air and went to unlock the door, but it wasn't the right shape. The key was circular and the lock was rectangular.

"That's not going to work," I muttered. "I think we have to look for a specific key." I released the key and observed the shape of the lock. "A rectangular one." I noticed the four broomsticks over in the corner of the room. "Come on, let's look."

We each grabbed a broomstick and began searching. Every key I grabbed out of the air was the wrong shape: circles, triangles, squares, diamonds, stars, dodecahedrons… but not a single rectangle.

Suddenly, Harry shouted, "That one!"

He was pointing towards a key with a bent wing and a rectangular tip. He dived towards it, but it dodged his attempts to grab it.

"We've got to close in on it!" Ron said. "If Hermione takes the top, and Sadie and I take the sides, we can chase it downwards towards Harry."

We got into formation and on the count of three, flew straight at the key, causing it to fly downwards and into Harry's free hand. Upon landing, Harry shoved the squirming key into the lock, and with a click, the door opened.

The four of us walked through the door, anticipating what would come next. To our surprise, we found ourselves in a room lined with shelves of crystal balls. There was an empty pedestal on the far end of the room. The stillness and serenity was iunsettling; I expected something to attack us at any minute.

"What are we supposed to do?" Ron asked.

"Look, on the floor," Hermione pointed out. There were words written on the marble beneath us. Instructions. She read them:

"'ALL OF THESE CRYSTAL BALLS ARE FAKE, EXCEPT ONE.

FIND THE REAL ONE AND PLACE IT ON THE PEDESTAL.

CHOOSE RIGHT, AND YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE NEXT CHALLENGE.

CHOOSE WRONG, AND YOU WILL BE TRANSPORTED TO WHERE YOUR IMMEDIATE DEATH WILL TAKE PLACE.

GOOD LUCK.'"

"That's not terrifying at all," Ron grimaced.

"It can't be that hard," I said, the uncertainty showing in my voice as I stared at the hundreds of crystal balls in the room. "There has to be something setting it apart, like the keys."

"Then we better start looking," Harry said, wandering over to the right side of the room..

"What teacher do you think made this?" Hermione asked. "Considering Flitwick probably made the last one."

"Trelawney, maybe?" I guessed by process of elimination. "It might be Divination."

"What's Divination?"

"Oh, a class about seeing the future," I said. "Fred and George were telling me about it."

"Seeing the future?" Hermione laughed. "That's impossible."

"Hey, before this year you thought all of magic was impossible."

"Still, it's just… it's just impossible, okay?"

I rolled my eyes and began my search.

It didn't take me long to figure out which crystal ball was the real one. I felt somehow drawn to the fifth shelf on the left, which was giving off a particularly clairvoyant vibe. I climbed a ladder leading up to the shelf and began examining each ball. They were all identical: shiny, clear orbs resting on a golden base. Each base was covered in the same design that I assumed were runes.

I was about halfway down the row when I picked up a ball that was different from the rest. On the outside it looked the same: a glowing orb with a golden, decorated base. But, unlike the others, dust-like ashes swirled around inside. And it just felt real.

"Found it!" I yelled as I climbed down the rungs to show the others. They crowded around me with excitement, but quickly became disappointed.

"That looks the same as all the other ones," Hermione said, frowning.

"No, look inside," I urged. "Don't you see the dust?"

They all stared inside with furrowed brows before Ron spoke. "Sadie, you're hallucinating."

"I'm not hallucinating!" I replied, agitated that they didn't believe me. "It's real, I promise! I can tell."

"You can tell?"

"It just… feels right," I said. "Can I just put it on the pedestal now? We have to hurry, or we won't catch up to Snape."

"But if it's the wrong one, we'll die!" Harry warned.

"It didn't say we'd die, it said we'd be transported to where our death would take place," I said. "For all we know, that could be McGonagall's office. She wouldn't kill us."

They each raised an eyebrow at me.

"Okay, so she would kill us," I admitted, "but only metaphorically."

"Fine, go ahead," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"If we die because of this," Ron started, "I'm going to murder you."

I didn't let the threat of death didn't shake my confidence. I was certain I had found the real crystal ball.

I took in a deep breath as I placed the ball on the pedestal.

Words in bold black lettering appeared on the wall before us:

CONGRATULATIONS!

YOU WILL BE TRANSPORTED TO THE NEXT CHALLENGE IN:

10

The number was counting down by the second.

"Told you so," I said, basking in my glory.

Ron sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin."

The room shifted around us. We were thrown back against the wall, and suddenly, a giant chess board materialized in front of our eyes. The board took up almost the entire room, and the pieces were four times our size. A large, silver door, lay across the room behind the white pieces. We were stuck behind the black ones.

"Do you think we can just walk around it?" I suggested, testing my own theory. I crept around the perimeter of the board, and was about to turn the corner when one of the pieces stuck out its spear to block me.

"Update," I said, "we can't walk around it."

"What do we do, then?" Hermione worried.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ron retorted. "We have to play our way across."

"How?"

"Maybe we have to take the place of four of the black pieces," he guessed, to which the King nodded, startling all of us. "Don't be offended, but none of you are that good at chess—"

"We're not offended," Harry said. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione and Sadie, you guys can take the castles," Ron directed. "As for me… I'll be a knight."

The four pieces Ron had named hopped off the chess board, allowing us to take their place. We stepped into the now empty squares, and the game began.

Ron directed us and the other black pieces around the board as best as he could, but the white pieces proved to be tough competition. The game was even more brutal than regular-sized wizarding chess was. The pieces nearly smashed each other to bits, and soon enough, there was a large pile of injured black pieces huddled in the corner. I trembled, picturing what would happen if one of us were to be lost to the white pieces.

Eventually, Ron found himself in a very tough position.

"We're nearly there…" Ron wondered aloud. "It's the only way…"

"What's the only way?" I asked.

"I have to be taken."

"NO!" we shouted, all three of us staring at him in disbelief.

"I have to!" Ron repeated. "It leaves Harry free to checkmate the king. That's chess, you make sacrifices!"

"But the queen will smash you to bits!" I warned.

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"But—"

"I have to," Ron said once more. "Take the pocket knife before you go, okay? You might need it. And don't hang around once you've won."

We looked away as he took a step forward. There was a crash and a thump, and I opened my eyes to see Ron lying on the floor unconscious. Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left.

The white king threw off its crown and left the board, its fellow pieces following. We ran over to Ron to make sure he was still breathing, and all sighed in relief when we discovered he was. Harry grabbed the knife from the pocket of his robes, and with one last look at Ron, we ran through the next door.

A putrid odor welcomed us, making us gag. A large troll lay unconscious on the ground, even larger than the one we encountered in the bathroom months ago. We cautiously stepped over it, holding our breath, and made it to the door on the other side of the room. Hermione and I nodded to Harry to show that we were more than ready to leave.

"Glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry muttered as he pushed the door open.

The minute we stepped into the room, purple flames shot up behind us and black flames in front, blocking both doors. I examined the small room for any hidden exits, but to no avail. We were trapped.

In front of us was a table with seven potions sitting in a line, all varying in color and size.

"Look!" Hermione grabbed a scroll lying on a shelf on the wall. Harry took it from her and read it aloud:

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.

Harry and I exchanged looks. Neither of us understood a word of that.

"Hermione," I began, "how are we going to get out of here?"

"Using this," she answered. "It's a logic puzzle! Most of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck here forever!"

"I must be one of the greatest wizards, then," I mumbled.

"Everything's here, on the paper," she continued. "Three of these are death potions, two are wine, one will get us through the black flames, and one will get us through the purple. Now give me a minute…"

Harry and I waited nervously as Hermione read the scroll over and over, calculating which bottle was which.

"Got it," she said after thinking for mere minutes. "The smallest one should get you through the black flames."

Harry picked up the bottle. "There's barely enough in here for two sips, though."

"Then only two of us can go," I said, disappointed that we'd already lost half the group.

"Hermione, which bottle gets you through the purple flames?"

She pointed to a round bottle on the right end.

"That one's full," Harry pointed out. "Why don't you both drink that one and go back? I'll go fight Snape. I don't want either of you getting hurt."

"You think we're letting you risk your life alone, Harry?" I said.

"Besides, what if You-Know-Who's with him?" Hermione worried. "You can't face him by yourself."

"I got lucky once," Harry said, pointing to his scar, "I could get lucky again."

"I wouldn't take that chance," I argued. "One of us is going with you. And I think it should be Hermione." Okay, I know it looks like I'm throwing her under the bus here, but I'm not. I genuinely thought she would be more useful in the situation than I would. She knows far more spells than me and was much more adept at using them.

"Why me?" Hermione inquired.

"You're a really talented witch, Hermione," I answered honestly. "Really talented. You know more about the wizarding world than I do and I've lived in it for eleven years! And I'm sure you've got way more spells under your belt than I do. You're the best person for this. Just set him on fire again."

"Me?" Hermione laughed. "Sure, I've got books and cleverness. But you have quick-thinking, and instinct, and intuition."

"But you're—"

"Do you want me to start citing evidence?" Hermione continued. "Sure, I set Snape on fire to stop him from cursing Harry. But who used Wingardium Leviosa so his broom would catch him? You. See, you've already saved his life once. You can do it again."

"But I never would've been able to do that if you hadn't distracted Snape," I argued. "If it weren't for your smarts—"

"Not so fast, I have more examples," Hermione countered. "Remember when we were trying to hide from Snape and Flitwick and you got us into that hidden room? I still don't know how you did that, but the point is, that was pure instinct. I never would've been able to think of that, even if I did know about the room."

I was beginning to think I should be the one to go after all. "Well, you do make a pretty convincing—and flattering—argument," I admitted. "Fine, I'll go. But just know you would've been an equally good candidate, okay?" I didn't want her to feel useless.

"About time," Harry said, who had been growing impatient with our debate. "Hermione, you take the purple flames potion and take Ron up to the hospital wing. Use the broomsticks in the flying keys room. Then send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we'll need him. We have no idea what Snape's got up his sleeve—especially if Voldemort's with him."

Hermione stared blankly at us, and I could almost see tears glistening in her eyes. Before I knew it, she had thrown her arms around Harry and me. "You guys are great wizards, you know."

"Not as good as you," Harry said as she let go of us.

"There are more important things than logic," Hermione said. "Like friendship and bravery and—oh, just be careful!"

"We will," I promised. "You're sure which one is which, right?"

"Positive."

"We better drink then," I said. "We don't have much time."

Hermione drank the potion on the far right and gave us a hopeful smile before stepping through the purple flames. Then, Harry took a small sip from the other potion and passed it to me. I drank the rest, my hand shaking, and placed the bottle back in the line.

Harry and I nodded at each other and stepped through the black flames, ready to face whatever waited on the other side.