Before long, Christmas break was over, and Bella's attention began to become preoccupied as it often did with studying. The months always rushed on fast after Christmas, Bella noticed. As the cold seeped away from the castle walls and the pretty Spring flowers bloomed in the fields, she'd be one of the few students who weren't rushing away to keep up with their ever-increasing workload. Bella didn't need to study as hard as she did, but she had a habit of punishing herself if she wasn't absolutely perfect, and this year would be no exception.
Sooner than anyone would hope, their exams would begin. She could never understand why they didn't charm the examination classrooms to be a little cooler when they had to sit there for hours on end with their written papers. It was sweltering hot as ever, and Bella was trying her best not to look unkempt as she shuffled a spindly hand through her damp hair.
The practical exams were a little better. At least they could move about. The DADA exams were, as usual, the easiest for her. Bella beat Quirrell's challenges in record time. This was also Bella's first year with her elective classes, and she couldn't be happier for choosing Ancient Runes over Divination after seeing her fellow third years come down from Trelawney's tower sopping with sweat.
It was the day of Bella's last exam that the Gryffindors found her. She'd settled at her favourite spot by the Black Lake, where no one ever dared to disturb her, sat with her back against a particularly gnarled Yew tree with a quill and a journal. Harry had never seen her in such a state of undress. Bella had always been a stickler for the school uniform. Her tie was always tight and perfectly straight, she always wore her school issue sweater beneath her robes, and her shirt was always tucked into her skirt.
This time, her short hair was fanned all around her against the trunk of the tree, her robes, tie and sweater folded neatly by her side atop her book bag, her shirt untucked, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, and her buttons undone to just below her chest revealing a thin white vest beneath. She frowned when she saw the three running over to her, pushing up off the trunk to sit upright.
"No time to explain—"
"—the Philosopher's Stone—"
"—third floor corridor—"
"—Fluffy—"
"—Sn—"
"Someone's going to steal it," Harry cut Ron off, emerald eyes blazing.
"If you think I caught a word of that—wait, what's a Fluffy?" Bella frowned at them.
"A three-headed dog," Hermione made her splutter with wide eyes, "it's one of several things the Professors have put in place to guard the Philosopher's Stone, which Dumbledore is keeping safe for his friend Nicolas Flamel on the forbidden third floor corridor. We know someone's going to steal it, tonight, and we tried to tell Professor Dumbledore—"
"—but he's been called away to the Ministry of Magic right when we need him, and Professor McGonagall wouldn't listen to us," Harry leapt on, "Bella, you have to help us. If we don't get to it first, then someone's going to steal it for Voldemort."
"That's preposterous," Bella's demeanour changed at once, pretty multi-colored eyes squinting coldly, "Potter, I don't know where you've got any of this from, but the last anyone's seen the Dark Lord's been all the way up in Albania—"
"He's alive?!" Ron's eyes were ready to bug out of his head.
Bella clamped her mouth shut, flushing, "rumours. Most people, Dumbledore himself included, believe he died on the Halloween night he faced your parents, Potter, but I've done enough research to hypothesise the rebound of a killing curse will only result in—oh what am I doing, I shouldn't be telling you any of this, it doesn't matter. My point is that he's not here."
"Yes he is!" Harry yelled, making her jump a little, "we had to go into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid for detention and we came across him in a cloak, feeding off unicorn blood! Who else would be desperate enough to feed on unicorn blood?!"
"I—" Bella cut herself off, shoulders relaxing as she frowned.
"Will you help us or not?" Harry demanded, "because whether you do or don't, we're going to the third floor tonight. And we'll probably get eaten by the three-headed dog if you don't come with us."
She squinted at him, "you know, I don't really appreciate being blackmailed. I could report you to Professor McGonagall."
"Go ahead," Harry stood his ground, "but if you do, then Voldemort'll be back, and it won't matter whether we're expelled or not because we'll all die anyway."
Harry could see her jaw screw up tight beneath her pale skin. "And how exactly do you plan on getting to the third floor corridor after hours?"
"Harry has an invisibility cloak," Ron answers. Bella fought the urge to throw her hands up. Of course he does, "we can come get you from the dungeons first."
"No need," Bella shook her head, "I don't need a cloak to become invisible."
Harry felt a chill run up his spine. Hadn't Professor Dumbledore said the same thing? "I'll meet you in the third floor corridor after midnight."
Bella felt like a fool, waiting under a disillusionment charm in front of the slightly ajar door. She'd already peeked—they weren't lying about the three-headed dog, but she was still finding it difficult to believe the Dark Lord had somehow found a way onto Hogwarts grounds without alerting a single auror. It was a long wait before she heard the soft whisper, "Bella? Bella, are you here?"
She tapped the ground twice with her boot, making something ahead of her jump and gasp. She couldn't see the three of them, but she could hear their breathing. "Did you open the door?"
"It was already open when I got here," she answered quietly, feeling very silly for talking to thin air, "the dog's awake. It can smell us, so there's no sneaking past. Any ideas?"
"I've got a flute," Harry answered as if that made perfect sense (it didn't), "come on, follow after us."
Something pushed the door next to her open, and Bella waited a minute or two before shuffling in. Low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see any of them.
"What's that at its feet?" Bella whispered.
"Looks like a harp," answered Ron. "Snape must have left it there."
"Snape?!" Bella hissed.
"Later!" Hermione whispered urgently.
"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," Harry didn't sound worried at all despite being in a too-small room with a too-large three-headed monstrosity. "Well, here goes..."
A beat, and then Bella heard an off-key note. It wasn't a tune, but the beast's eyes miraculously began to droop. Bella didn't dare take a breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased—it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.
"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the Cloak, appearing before Bella's eyes. She swept her wand to the left, the disillusionment charm melding off her body like a sheet. She had dressed for a potential duel or a fight, wearing her stretchiest broom-riding pants and her knee-high dragonhide boots, a school shirt tucked in under a belt along with her sweeping black dragonhide coat, which was particularly spell-proof. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.
"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," Bella peered over the dog's back, turning over her shoulder with a wicked crooked smirk at Hermione, "how about it, troll-hunter? Want to go first?"
"No, I don't!"
"I'll do it," Ron grit his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.
"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.
"Nothing—just black—there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."
"Honestly, Gryffindors," Bella rolled her eyes, stepping carefully over the dog to reach Ron, "lumos!"
The light beaming from the tip of her wand didn't do much, the drop was too far—but Bella could just make out what looked like a mass of very large vines at the very bottom. "Looks like a soft landing, there's vines below, some sort of overgrown greenhouse type deal. It must be an enclosure of some sort for some creature."
Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Bella to get her attention and pointed at himself.
"You want to go first? Are you sure?" she looked sceptical. "Very well. Give the flute over to Granger so she can keep him asleep, I'll jump down after her, make sure the dog doesn't get any of you."
Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep. Bella helped Harry climb over and gage the jump he'd have to make down the trapdoor.
He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Bella and Ron and said, "if anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"
"Right," said Ron.
"See you in a minute, I hope..."
And Harry let go.
FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump, he landed on the mass of vines far down below. "It's okay! It's a soft landing, you can jump!"
Ron followed right away. He landed with the same sound as Harry. A moment, and then Harry shouted again, "Come on, Hermione!"
The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped, followed quickly after by Bella. She landed on Harry's other side.
"We must be miles under the school," Granger looked around in awe.
"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ron.
"Lucky!" Bella shrieked. "Look at yourselves!"
She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing. Boys.
Bella managed to yank Hermione to freedom before the plant got a firm grip on her, turning back to watch in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them. The more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.
"Stop moving!" she shouted at them, "it's Devil's Snare!"
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.
"Stuff it, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Bella shot back, wracking her mind through her options as quickly as she could. A severing charm would do her no good, she might accidentally dismember one of the boys, and Incendio would just make their situation worse.
"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.
"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare...what did Professor Sprout say?—it likes the dark and the damp—" Hermione had begun to recite to herself frantically.
"So light a fire!" Harry choked.
"Yes—of course—but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"
"LUMOS SOLEM!" Bella had finally finished off a complicated loop of wand movement, crying out loudly. A blinding flash of sunlight burst where she had pointed her wand up at the ceiling, basking the entire room in a burning, hot white glow. In a matter of seconds, the two boys felt the plant loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from their bodies and they were able to pull free.
"Thanks," Harry panted as Bella helped tug him by the wall, wiping sweat off his face, "lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione."
"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Bella doesn't lose her head in a crisis—'there's no wood,' honestly."
"I couldn't cast the severing charm without chopping your legs off," Bella frowned, "and the fire-making hex would've burnt us all alive."
"It's alright, you got there in the end," Harry assured her, "come on, this way."
He pointed down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.
All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Bella was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, she remembered the dragon in front of the British set of Lestrange Vaults. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon—she wasn't ready for something like that...
"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.
Bella listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.
"Do you think it's a ghost?"
"I don't know...sounds like wings to me."
"There's light ahead—I can see something moving."
They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" Bella frowned.
"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I supposed if they all swooped down at once...well, there's no other choice...I'll run."
He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. Bella had her wand up ready to cast the Protego charm, but the birds never swooped down, nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He yanked the handle, but it was locked.
Bella, Ron and Hermione followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Bella tried her Alohomora Charm.
"Now what?" said Ron.
"These birds...they can't be just for show," Bella squinted up at them suspiciously.
They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering—glittering?
"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys—look carefully. So that must mean..." he looked around the chamber, "...yes—look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"
"But there are hundreds of them!"
Bella examined the lock on the door. "We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one—probably silver, like the handle. Hang on. Accio key!"
Of course it couldn't be that simple. Bella deflated, rather put out that whichever professor had come up with this nightmare had thought ahead of a simple summoning charm. "No other choice, then."
They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dove so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.
Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.
"That one!" he called to the others, "that big one—there—no, there—with bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side."
Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.
"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above—Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down—Bella, come in towards me and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"
Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, the key dodged them both, and Bella rushed towards Harry and feigned just in time, spinning hard out of control; it sped away from her, and Harry leaned forward, pinning it against the stone with a nasty, crunching noise. Ron and Hermione's cheers echoed around the high chamber.
They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned—it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.
"Ready?" Harry asked the other three, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.
The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.
They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly—the towering white chessmen had no faces.
"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.
"Isn't it terribly obvious?" Bella's face was grim, "we've got to play our way across the room."
Behind the white pieces, they could see another door.
"How?" said Hermione nervously.
"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."
He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron. "Do we—er—have to join you to get across?"
The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the others. "This needs thinking about...I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces..."
"Bishop, castle, king, queen," Bella answered quickly, surprising them all. She shrugged. "Pawns get killed off too quickly. If we want to make it to the end of the game, those are the least played pieces. Ron, you're the best at wizard's chess. Tell us what to do."
"Er, right. Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there instead of that castle. Bella, you can take the queen," Ron pointed out the pieces, "I'm going to be the king."
The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a bishop, a castle, the king and the queen turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares that Bella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione took.
"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes...look..."
A white pawn had moved forward two squares.
Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Bella's heart continued to race. What if we lose?
"Harry—move diagonally four squares to the right."
Their first real shock came when one of their knights was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.
"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on. Glad I didn't choose to be one of those knights. Thanks Bella."
Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry or Hermione were in danger. Bella herself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.
"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think—let me think..."
The white queen turned her blank face toward their last knight.
"Yes!" Ron lit up, "I've got it! She'll take the knight—that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry! Ready? Here I go—everyone, get ready to run once we've won."
The moment the white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet, they sagged with relief. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one quick glance back, the four charged through the door and up the next passageway.
"That was tough," Ron was a little breathless, "what do you reckon's next?"
"We had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; I can't imagine anything to do with runes or divination; that leaves Quirrell and Snape..."
They had reached another door.
"All right?" Harry whispered.
"Go on," Bella nodded firmly, wand out, prepared.
Harry pushed it open.
A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making all four pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one Bella had fought, out could with a bloody lump on its head.
"At least we didn't have to fight that one," Bella whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs, "come on, I can't breathe."
She pulled open the next door, hardly daring to look at what came next—but there was nothing very frightening in there, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.
"Snape's," Bella's shoulders dropped with relief, "potions are my second-best subject."
They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped. Bella squinted back and forth at the flames, "dark magic...don't get too close, I rate it'll do worse than burn you."
"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Bella moved closer, looking over her shoulder to read it:
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.
"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic—it's logic—a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."
"But so will we, won't we?"
"Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."
"But how do we know which to drink?"
"Give me a minute," Hermione focused.
Bella frowned, trying to figure it out herself. She muttered snarkily after going over the whole thing once more, "who knew Snape was such a poet?"
"Shh," Hermione swat her. Bella scowled, stepping away while she rubbed her arm.
Hermione read over the list several times before walking up and down the table, muttering to herself and pointing at them. "Well, the easy part's the nettle wine, it's those two. So that means the poisons are...mmm...well then there's...yes. Got it. The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire—toward the Stone."
Harry looked at the tiny bottle.
"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."
"It'll be self-replenishing," Bella shook her head, "otherwise all the staff wouldn't be able to get through back and forth to check on the stone. Which bottle will get you back through the purple flames?"
"Us?" Ron reared back, clearly affronted.
"If The Dark Lord is at the end of this like you all believe he is, I won't be able to keep all three of you safe," Bella told them sternly, "and I won't be able to fight him for long. I need you two to work together to get up to the trapdoor and past the dog—go straight to McGonagall, get an owl to Dumbledore. You'll need Granger's charms to get back through, and Weasley, you're the fastest. Potter'll be my backup."
Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Bella and threw her arms around her waist, "Granger!"
"I don't care that you're a Slytherin, you're the best witch I know!" she cried.
"I'm not going to die," Bella rolled her eyes, pushing her off gently.
"You're brilliant, Hermione," Harry looked very embarrassed for his friend.
"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things—friendship and bravery and—oh Harry—be careful!"
"He's not dying either," Bella was a little more put out this time, "go on, which bottle?"
Hermione pointed out the rounded bottle at the right end of the line. Bella nodded, handing it to her. Hermione shuddered after her gulp, passing the remaining half over to Ron.
"It's not poison?" Ron asked anxiously.
"No—but it's like ice."
"Quick, go, before it wears off," Bella began shoving the two through.
"Good luck—take care of—"
"GO!"
Hermione and Ron turned and walked straight through the purple fire. Bella turned to Harry, offering a weak smile, "just you and me, Potter."
He smiled back at her, but even he didn't look very sure. Bella picked up the smallest bottle, turning to face the black flames. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, steeling her eyes before she handed it to Harry. "You first. I'll wait until it replenishes."
Harry drained what was left in the bottle, bracing himself before stepping forward, disappearing through the black flames. Bella could see the liquid bubbling back up to fill the entire glass. She downed it quickly, setting the bottle back down in its spot on the table; she braced herself, wand out, saw the black flames licking her body, but couldn't feel them—for a moment she could see nothing but dark fire—then she was on the other side, in the last chamber.