Disclaimer: Hermione Granger (along with the rest of the Harry Potter universe) is owned by JK Rowling.

A/N: Many thanks once again to Pahan for helping me to hash out the climax of First Year, starting with this chapter. I hope you find it an interesting new spin on things.

Chapter 19

Hermione and Harry were both very worried about exams, but for different reasons. Harry had become paranoid that Voldemort was going to burst in and kill him at any moment, and Hermione, in addition to wanting to pass her own exams, was worried that Harry's paranoia would cause him to flunk. No matter how many times she assured him that nothing could possibly get him at Hogwarts, he couldn't seem to shake his nervousness.

Admittedly, he was still getting headaches, although he stubbornly refused to see Madam Pomfrey about it (Boys, Hermione thought), insisting instead that they meant danger was coming. Even Ron told him to relax and not worry about it.

When the time came, Hermione, for her part, found the exams easier than she expected, for which she congratulated herself for her good study habits. Before she knew it, she was finishing up her last exam, Arithmancy (which was a little more challenging), while the boys were taking their History exam. Now, all she had to do was learn some of the more advanced integration techniques and revise for her maths A-level next month.

She had already wandered out to the grounds for a pleasant walk when she saw Harry and Ron running flat out towards her. She waved to them, but she soon realised that they weren't excited that their exams were over. They were running as if Fluffy were after them, coming up to her with horror-stricken looks on their faces.

"Hermione!" Harry said breathlessly, "Snape's figured it out…! He knows how to get the Stone!"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed.

"We heard it…" said Ron, panting even more heavily. "Quirrell…Snape…told him…"

"What are you talking about?"

"We were going past the staffroom—" Harry said.

"We heard Quirrell—" Ron started.

"He said he knew everything—"

"He didn't want to tell him but—"

"Harry! Ron! Calm down and tell me exactly what you heard," Hermione snapped.

The boys tried to collect themselves and recounted their tale. They had been hanging back a bit talking after their History exam, and as they were walking past the staffroom, they'd heard Professor Quirrell talking to someone they couldn't quite hear. Quirrell was crying. From what Hermione could piece together, he said something like, "Please…please I can't…yes, that's everything, but…no, please…alright, alright!" The boys had taken this to mean that Quirrell had told Snape everything he needed to know about how to steal the Philosopher's Stone, however far-fetched that seemed.

"Did you actually hear him talking to Snape?" Hermione asked astutely.

"We heard someone whispering to him," Harry said. "We didn't want to get too close in case Snape saw us, but what else could it mean?"

By now, Hermione was just about done arguing with Harry about this. "Well, if you're so sure," she said, "there's only one thing to do."

"What?" both boys asked.

"Go to Dumbledore."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then they both smacked themselves in their foreheads and took off running back toward the castle.

"Hey, wait for me!" Hermione yelled as she sprinted after them.

The three of them dashed inside and started climbing the stairs. It was only after they had ascended several flights that Harry and Ron realised they had no idea where they were going. "Uh…where is Dumbledore's office?" Harry said as they came to an intersection.

"Seventh floor," Hermione replied. She pulled her quick-reference map from her robes. With exams to worry about, she'd only had time to explore the West Wing with Sonya, but she thought it would be good to carry a small map with the important places marked on it, just in case. "I ran into him when I was exploring the castle—almost literally." She double-checked her orientation and pointed down one of the corridors. "This way—"

"What are you three doing inside?"

They turned around to see Professor McGonagall approaching with a large pile of books. She looked rather suspicious of the trio, but then, navigating the castle with a foldout map wasn't exactly normal behaviour.

Hermione collected herself and said as calmly as she could, "We want to see Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore?" McGonagall looked even more suspicious. "Why?"

"It's sort of secret," Harry blurted out. Hermione suppressed a groan.

"Well, I'm afraid it will have to wait, whatever it is," the professor said. "Professor Dumbledore was urgently called away to the Ministry ten minutes ago."

"He's gone? Now?" Harry gasped in horror.

"The Headmaster is a very busy man with other duties beyond the school. I'm sure whatever this is can wait until tomorrow."

"But this about the Philosopher's Stone!"

McGonagall dropped her books with a loud crash that echoed through the empty hallways. "How do you know about that?" she whispered. Her whisper seemed to carry even farther.

"Professor, I think—I know—that Sn—someone's going to try to steal the Stone tonight," Harry said. "We have to warn Dumbledore."

Hermione wanted to say something. To tell Professor McGonagall that Harry hadn't been feeling well and was being paranoid. She must hear the desperation in his voice. Or to tell her all the strange goings on surrounding the Stone that were making him worry. But she just couldn't think of what to say at the moment.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured that no one could possibly steal it. It's far too well protected."

"That's what I've been telling him, Professor," Hermione said timidly. Harry and Ron both glared at her.

"But Professor—"

"You should listen to your friend, Mr. Potter. All of we teachers have taken the security of that Stone very seriously. Now I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine." An or else was clearly implied.

And if Professor McGonagall's warning weren't enough, Professor Snape's, when they ran into him not two minutes later, was. "You shouldn't be inside on a day this…nice…" the Potions Master said with a twisted smile, as if he could only guess what normal people would consider to be a nice day.

"We were just—" Harry started.

"You'll want to be more careful, Mr. Potter. If you keep turning up in places you aren't supposed to be, people are bound to think you're…up to something." Harry flushed bright red. "And you wouldn't want to be expelled after only your first year, would you? Good day."

"It's definitely him," Harry said. "He must know we snuck out with Norbert, too. He's gonna try to steal the Stone tonight, and he's trying to scare us off."

"Harry, I still think you're wrong," Hermione said. "It's probably just Snape being Snape. And besides, what can we do now?"

"We'll split up and watch Snape and the forbidden corridor," Harry said, as if it were obvious.

But that plan failed miserably after they were collectively told off by Flitwick, Snape again, and an irate McGonagall, who threatened them with a fifty point docking. It seemed that they were at least taking security against the students seriously.

"I'm sorry Harry, I did all I could," Hermione said when they regrouped.

Harry grumbled at her, but she could tell he knew it wasn't her fault. "There's got to be something else we can do," he muttered to himself. "Some way to stop Snape."

"Harry, please try to calm down," she begged, grabbing him by the shoulders. He flinched at the contact. "I keep telling you Snape couldn't possibly get through all the obstacles. Maybe you heard Quirrell talking about something else." Harry looked nervous, but as unconvinced as ever.

"Y-yeah, mate, Quirrell's scared of just about everything," Ron said, though he didn't look too sure himself. "Now I think about it, that could've been about anything."

"I know what I heard." Harry screwed up his face and pushed Hermione's hands aside.

"Look, Harry," she tried. "If you're that worried, we can go talk to Professor Vector. I'm sure she'll at least listen, but I'm also sure she's going to say the Stone is perfectly safe."

Harry stopped and thought for a moment. "Fine," he grumbled. "Let's go."

They managed to get to Professor Vector's office without running into any other teachers, although they would have at least had a decent cover story this time.

Of course, when Professor Vector opened the door and saw who was there, she immediately said, "I'm afraid I don't have your grade yet, Miss Granger."

Hermione couldn't completely suppress her sigh this time. Was she really that obsessive? "It's not about that Professor."

Vector cracked a forced smile. "Is there a dragon involved?"

"No, but it is important. May we please come in?"

"Alright, come on in," she said, shutting the door behind the trio. "Now, what is this about?"

This time, Harry spoke up: "Professor, we think—ow!" Hermione stepped on his foot. "I think someone's going to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone tonight."

If Professor Vector had been carrying a load of books, she would have dropped them. "So…you figured out what's in there," she said with just a little hostility. "And why, pray tell, do you think someone is trying to steal it, Mr. Potter?"

"Because I heard…some people talking about it, and today one of them said he'd figured out all the traps…"

"I see…I won't ask you who you supposedly overheard, Mr. Potter, since it doesn't matter. I don't know what you think they said, but I assure that the Philosopher's Stone is too well protected for anyone to steal it."

"I know, but…I heard…it wasn't students," Harry blurted.

Vector's eyes widened a bit. "You believe a teacher is going to steal the Stone?"

Harry nervously nodded. "I…We know most of the teachers did something to protect it, so…"

"Mr. Potter," Vector said threateningly, drawing herself up, "if you are trying to get me to tell you what sort of obstacle I placed—"

"We're not!" Hermione jumped in. "I'm sorry, Professor. It's just that Harry's been acting paranoid about this for weeks. Ron and I keep trying to tell him the Stone's safe, but he won't believe us."

"Hermione!" Harry protested.

"Well, it's true. We just wanted to try to convince him. He's more nervous than ever because Professor Dumbledore's gone, and Professor McGonagall didn't have the patience to explain. I just thought—without giving it away—if you could tell him how well protected it really is…"

Vector sat down and sighed. She'd dealt with children with emotional issues before, most recently Hermione herself, but this level of paranoia was something she hadn't seen since the war. "Miss Granger, I appreciate you trying to help your friend," she said softly, "although there comes a point where Madam Pomfrey might be better to minister to something like this. I hope it does not come to that, however. Mr. Potter, you may find this difficult to accept, but we teachers have very good reasons to believe that the Stone is safe. My obstacle alone is probably adequate. I have told no one but Professor Dumbledore how it works, and I assure you that no one could possibly get through it without a special key that Professor Dumbledore keeps on his person at all times. There is only one key, which I gave directly to him, and not even he could get through without it. Professor Babbling's obstacle is at least as strong as mine, and I'm sure the others are more than adequate as well. So I hope you understand that even a Hogwarts teacher would have no hope of getting through them all."

Harry looked down at his shoes. He looked pretty well defeated. But even as Hermione thought he was about to sulk away, he set his face with a determined expression and tried one last line of attack. He looked Vector straight in the eye and said, "Professor, my scar's been hurting."

Hermione gave a small gasp.

"Excuse me?" Vector said to the non sequitur.

"My scar," Harry repeated. "The one Voldemort gave me."

Vector hissed at the name, and Ron yelped softly.

"It's been hurting for the past few weeks," Harry continued.

"Then you should see Madam Pomfrey."

"I don't think it's a normal headache. I think it means danger is coming. It started happening when those unicorns were killed in the forest."

"How did you—Hagrid," Vector groaned.

Harry kept going before she could say anything else. "I think Sn…I—I think it's Professor Snape, but it doesn't really matter, does it? I think whoever is it is working for Voldemort, and he's going to steal the Philosopher's Stone so he can bring Voldemort back so he can kill me."

"Will you stop saying that name, Harry!" Ron yelled.

Septima Vector tried to force her nerves down and wondered if her day could get any more surreal. Here was the Boy-Who-Lived—she hadn't thought of him like that so much, but she couldn't ignore it now—sitting in her office, lost in a child's nightmare. It had to be hard for him, she thought, having lost his parents to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—she still couldn't help but flinch every time he said that name. It was anybody's guess whether he'd gone into fits like this before or if this was the first time, but she could actually understand it a little. It must be very nerve-wracking growing up with that kind of history, and paranoia wasn't a totally unexpected result.

"Mr. Potter, I really do think you should see Madam Pomfrey about your headaches," she finally said. "But I will ask Professor Dumbledore to speak with you personally about your concerns when he returns. I know this probably isn't the answer you were hoping for, but I think it is highly unlikely that You-Know-Who is involved in any of this. In the meantime, I'm sure you're very stressed after finishing your exams, and I think you'll feel much better if you get some sun." Now.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said dejectedly. He stood up and weakly walked out of the office. Ron went with him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Hermione started to follow her, but Professor Vector called her back for a moment. Leaning down close to her, she said, "Hermione, I fear that your friend may need professional counselling." Hermione nodded knowingly. She was starting to worry about that as well. "I will do what I can to make sure he gets the help he needs, but in the meantime, please try to take care of him."

"Yes, ma'am, I will," Hermione said quickly. That was the least she could do for him after that Halloween night.

Harry consented to being led outside, but he was irritable and fidgety the rest of the day. It was becoming clear that their chat with Professor Vector hadn't had the desired effect. It didn't help that he claimed his headache was getting worse, even though Hermione thought by now that it might be all in his head. He didn't seem to want to talk to her all afternoon, and even his conversations with Ron seemed forced. As the day wore on, Hermione started to get a very bad feeling about that night, and Ron seemed to have the same idea because he asked Harry if he was going to bed multiple times, and the smaller boy just shook his head.

They both stayed up watching him until everyone else had gone to bed, which was when Harry finally closed the book he'd been reading, stood up and said, "Well, that's it then, isn't it?"

"That's what?" Hermione asked warily, rising to her feet.

Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak.

"Whoa, mate," Ron said.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Hermione demanded. She stepped in front of the portrait hole, and Ron followed suit.

"I just know Snape's going to go after the Stone tonight," he said. "So I'm going to go down there and try to steal it first."

"You're mad!" Ron said.

"Harry, you can't," pleaded Hermione. "You heard what all the professors said."

"I don't care about being expelled," Harry said, his voice rising. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets a hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! The points and the cup and getting expelled won't matter then. He'll flatten Hogwarts, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts. He killed my parents, remember? I'll die whether I get caught or not if I can't stop him, and then he'll probably go after the other Gryffindors, too."

"But he's not going to get a hold of the Stone!" Hermione screamed, and prayed she didn't wake anyone—or maybe hoped she did. "No one's going to get through those obstacles."

"He will! I can feel it." Harry pressed the heel of his hand to his scar. "He's going to get through."

"Harry, let's just say you're right," pleaded Hermione. "Say Professor Snape is going to try to steal the Stone tonight and knows how. You must know you don't stand a chance against him."

"I've got to try," Harry insisted. "Nobody else will."

"She's right, mate," Ron said. "You're only a first year—"

"Well, you two could help me instead of just standing there," he said angrily.

"We're only first years, too!" said Hermione. "Don't you remember the troll? One professor was miles ahead of all three of us together, and the obstacles are designed to be too tough even for them. Look, if I thought we had the slightest chance, I'd be right there beside you—if only to make sure you didn't get yourself killed—but we're only twelve. We're so far out of our depth here…"

"Well, I guess I'm going alone, then." He took a step toward them. As one, Ron and Hermione closed ranks

"Get out of my way," Harry ordered.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione said with tears in her eyes. "We can't let you with this."

"Ron, tell her to move."

Ron shook his head. "Mate, I know you're scared and all, but I'm not too dumb to see that there's no way you can stop Snape or get through the traps. Bill's told me the kinds of things he works with. He's nearly been killed a couple times, and he's had training for it."

"I don't care. Move."

"Harry, stop. Really," Ron stammered. "We just don't want you to get hurt. We'll…we'll fight you if we have to." He raised his fists and looked to Hermione.

Fight him? With fists? Maybe Ron, with his five older brothers. But me? I'll need magic, Herimone thought.

Harry shook his head and turned to her. "Hermione. I'm really, really sorry about this," he said.

Her hand went for her wand.

But Harry was faster. "Petrificus Totalus!" he cried.

Hermione's eyes went wide with shock that Harry even knew that spell, and she registered just which book Harry had been reading earlier. That moment's hesitation cost her dearly, as her arms snapped to her sides, her legs together, and she toppled over painfully against the wall, unable to even speak.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled. She wanted to tell him to look behind him as he ran over to her, but she couldn't, and while he was distracted, Harry pulled on the invisibility cloak and vanished through the portrait hole.

"Hermione," Ron said again, sparing only a moment to look up at the closing portal. "What did he do to you?" He drew his wand. "What do I do? What do I do?"

Unable to move anything but her eyes, Hermione did the one thing she could and repeatedly jerked her gaze toward the chair where Harry had been sitting. After an agonisingly long time, he made the connection.

"The book!" He ran over and picked up The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. "Come on, come on…" He flipped through the pages. "Perri…Petro…Petrine…" After an even longer time (though miraculously quick considering this was Ron trying to find an answer in a textbook), he managed to find the Full Body Bind and its counter-curse. A simple Finite Incantatem would work, of course, but would need a lot more power. He pointed his wand at Hermione and said, "Chalaro Soma!"

Nothing happened.

"Chalaro Soma! Chalaro Soma!" he said frantically.

Hermione's mouth snapped open, and she gasped for breath. Her arms and legs remained stuck.

"Hermione?"

"Chala-ro Soma."

"What?"

"It's Chala-ro Soma," she wheezed.

"Chala-ro Soma," Ron incanted.

Hermione's limbs came unstuck—not completely, but enough that she could shake off the rest of the jinx. "Thanks," she said as he helped her to her feet. She picked up her wand where it had fallen. "I can't believe he got me," she said angrily.

"Sorry."

"I could take him easy in a fair duel," she insisted.

"Well, maybe you'll get your chance," he said. "We've got to go stop him." He started to open the portrait hole.

"No, Ron, we have to tell a teacher."

"What? Are you mad? After what Snape said, if they catch Harry trying to get in that corridor, he'll be expelled!"

"And if he tries to get through all those traps on his own, Harry could get killed! And yes, Ron, that is worse!" Ron shut his mouth and nodded weakly. "We'll go to Professor Vector. She doesn't think Harry's bad; she just thinks he's sick—you know, mentally. I don't know if he is or not, but I think she'll go easy on him."

"Are—are you sure…? We don't have the cloak. What if someone else catches us?"

"We'd have that problem anyway. We'll tell whoever catches us and hope they listen. I'll go get my map so I can at least find places to hide."

"Okay, but hurry."

A few minutes and many stairs later, they were out in the corridors, following Hermione's map to Professor Vector's apartment. Hermione lit her wand dimly to see the paper.

"You know where all the teachers sleep?" Ron whispered.

"The ones who sleep in the castle," she confirmed. "Each apartment is behind a portrait of a famous witch or wizard in their field."

"Cool, so where—?"

"Shh!" Hermione strained to listen. "Someone's coming," she breathed. "Nox." She grabbed Ron by the wrist and felt around for an unused room that was marked on the map nearby, one that Sonya had said you could only get into if you had your eyes closed. She opened it, and they ducked inside. She grabbed the small jar from her pocket and placed it against the door, pressing her ear to it to listen, though she could barely hear anything over her pulse pounding in her ears. Only when the footsteps passed by and vanished from her hearing did she whisper, "All clear," and open the door again.

"Wow. I never thought you'd be sneaking around here like the Twins," whispered an awed Ron.

"Yeah, and they'll probably think they have to prank me again just to get back on top," Hermione whispered back flatly. "Come on."

They made it to the portrait of Bridget Wenlock without meeting anyone else, and then Hermione threw caution to the wind and pounded on the frame. "Professor Vector!" she yelled.

Bridget Wenlock woke up. "Tawht areh tho doaeng?" she shouted.

"Madam Wenlock, please tell Professor Vector to let us in. It's an emergency. Professor Vector!"

"Stoadents areh not toe bay given occess toe thay apartments! Stoadents areh not toe bay oot pawst curfiu!"

"Please! It's an emergency! Our friend could die! Professor—!"

Finally, a surprisingly dishevelled-looking Professor Vector opened the door, wearing a green nightdress, and glared at the two students. "Hermione, what's wrong? What are you doing out of bed?"

"It's Harry, Professor. He's still convinced Professor Snape's trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and he's gone in there to try to steal it first. We tried to stop him, but he jinxed us and got away!"

Professor Vector's glare vanished as the colour drained from her face. "What? Is he mad? The dog—"

"He knows how to get past the dog. We figured out you have to play music to it from an old muggle story, and Hagrid let slip we were right."

Vector went even paler. "You're certain?"

Both children nodded emphatically.

"But if he can get past the dog, then…oh, no, the Devil's Snare! I have to stop him! Go back to your dorms now. I'll reverse any punishments if you get caught. I'll get Potter." She grabbed her wand and took off running in her slippers.

Ron and Hermione watched her go in amazement. Neither of them spoke for a moment. "So…what do you think," Ron finally said.

"I…" Hermione glanced at the still-angry portrait behind them. "Away from her," she hissed. They jogged down the corridor out of earshot. "What do you mean," she asked.

"I still want to go after him," Ron said.

"But Professor Vector said she'd bring him back."

"I'm just kinda worried. What if he is right?"

"Oh, Ron, not you too!"

"I'm just saying to take a look, and if something happens, we'll be able to get more help."

Hermione wanted to protest, but it had been like pulling teeth all day to get anything sensible done, and even being the child of dentists couldn't make that any easier. She was just too tired of it. "Oooh…" she whined. "Fine. But if we get eaten, I'm haunting you."

They started off again, heading down to the third floor with the help of Hermione's map.

"Do you know what Devil's Snare is?" Ron asked on the way.

"It's a plant that likes the dark and damp and tries to strangle you with its vines if you stumble into it."

"Oh, lovely. So how do you get out of it?"

"Um…lemme think, uh—dark and damp…Of course, fire. So we just need some wood, and—" She stopped herself and tapped her wand to her head twice before Ron could make fun of her for her mistake.

A little farther down, Hermione had to pull Ron into a broom cupboard (there was something she didn't think she'd have cause to do with anyone for a few more years, if ever) to avoid another teacher patrolling the corridors, and they barely managed to slip by Peeves, but somehow, they made it to the forbidden door. They looked at each other once.

"Alohomora," Hermione whispered. The door clicked open.

There was Fluffy, growling at them, just as big and terrible as they'd remembered, but this time, they had a secret weapon. Hermione licked her lips and began to whistle as loudly as she could. She was only an average musician, but the simple tune caused the dog to step back and lay down, and its six eyes closed two by two.

They walked up to the trapdoor. It was already open. Hermione shot Ron a look as she kept whistling. "Lumos," he said. But they couldn't see the bottom by wand light, it must be a long way down. But she and Ron could both do the proverbial math on this. Professor Vector said that anyone who got past Fluffy would run into the Devil's Snare. And that meant they had to survive the fall first. She motioned to Ron.

The unfortunate boy took a deep breath, made an unpleasant face, and jumped into the hole. After what seemed like ages, but was probably only long enough for him to fall to the sub-basement, she heard his voice calling back up, "It's okay! It's a soft landing." She had already jumped down the hole when she heard his next sentence: "But I don't like these vines!"

FLUMP! Hermione landed on something squishy and writhing. She felt uncomfortably like Indiana Jones in the den of snakes. But she had remembered to hold her wand arm aloft to keep it free. Wasting no time, she swung it down and said, "Lacarnum inflamari!" The blue flames made short work of the strangling plant, and they moved on, noting a single broomstick leaning against the wall as they approached the lone door in the darkened room. Apparently, the teachers were considerate enough to provide a way out if someone got stuck down here. They reached the door and opened it, not having any idea what they would find.

The next room looked like a war zone. It seemed to have been a bare, empty chamber save for a few torches along the walls, but now, it was filled with rubble. Huge chunks had been blown out of the ceiling. There were long, black scorch marks on the walls and deep gouges in the floor that were still glowing an angry red. The source of all this damage was clear. The wall at the far side of the room was completely filled with runes in at least a dozen different languages. Many of the runes were scorched, slashed, or blasted off the wall, but Hermione could still identify Norse, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, Sanskrit, Chinese, hieroglyphics, and cuneiform, and there were a few others she didn't know. She couldn't even begin to guess what most of the runes did, but she presumed they were a mixture of locking spells and defencive spells. In fact, among the Latin runes, she did see some powerful curses written, like DIFFINDO and REDUCTO.

Her pulse quickened. Had Harry got caught in this devastation? But Harry was nowhere to be seen, and he certainly couldn't have got past this on his own. Most of the runes looked to be damaged beyond repair by powerful curses shot back at them, presumably through heavy magical shields and interlocking booby-traps. (Ron's brother could probably understand it.) More to the point, the single door in the middle of the far wall was standing open.

"This must be Professor Babbling's obstacle," Hermione said in amazement.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "And it looks pretty nasty, too. I hope Snape at least got cursed good when he broke through it."

Hermione chose to ignore Ron throwing his lot in with Harry's Snape theory and just said, "Come on, let's go."

They walked forward slowly and carefully, stepping over the glowing gouge marks on the floor, ready to beat a hasty retreat if things heated up again. But the runes seemed to have been completely disabled. A few were glowing or flickering, but not shooting spells. They reached the door and stepped through to see what was, on closer inspection, an even more worrying sight.

This chamber was also something close to a bare room. The only feature was a door in the far wall, and two stone statues standing on either side of it, holding a pair of wicked-looking battle axes crossed in front of the door. The statues were human shaped, if a little larger than life, except for huge bug eyes that seemed to be made of glowing crystals, which were continuously pulsing flashes of coloured light back and forth to each other. It was obviously some kind of code, Hermione thought, which meant that this was almost certainly Professor Vector's trap.

But this room was not empty. There were already two people in here: Harry Potter and Professor Vector herself. And both of them were chalk white with fear, and with good reason. They, too, had seen that Snape—or someone—had got through the previous door, and was no longer here.

That meant that he had also got through Professor Vector's trap.

A/N: Chalaro Soma: based on the Greek for "loosen body".