A little speedrun.
Tree roots, thorny bushes, and rocks had made his progress slow, yet the forest remained eerily quiet. Harry had been hyperaware of his own breathing, always cautious not to leave any trace, his senses on high alert in case a lurking shadows were about to chase him or the bushes suddenly trembled.
As the trees thickened, their crowns cloaked the sky, compelling him to illuminate his wand further within the forest. The undergrowth had grown dense, making tree roots and stumps nearly invisible in the dark twilight of the woods.
Eventually, he arrived at a small clearing with a campsite. The fire pit had grown cold and empty, much like the entire camp.
Harry sent up red sparks and called out into the forest.
"Rider! Rider, I need to speak with you! It's crucial. Rider!"
Silence met his calls. He waited, but nothing stirred.
"Alohilani!" he tried again. "Alohilani, where are you, girl? Alohilani, Rider!"
Something rustled in the tree branches behind him, though he failed to hear it.
"Can you hear me? I'm right here, Rider!"
Then he heard the sound of footsteps from behind and swiftly turned around.
"Oh," Harry muttered. "I was afraid that…"
"Can you explain what you're doing? Shouting through the forest and searching for me like this? What if someone else heard you?"
Harry stepped forward and lowered his voice.
"There is no one else here," he stated. "And I have to ask you something very important because I don't know who else I should ask for help."
"What have you done now, kid? And there are centaurs."
Harry took a deep breath.
"Remember that thing you saved me from when we first met, the one that was killing unicorns?"
"Yes, I remember. Hard to forget," the Rider said dryly. "Could you tell me why you're bringing it up again?"
Harry let out a nervous laugh.
"It's back. It was Voldemort. And now his servant is in school, attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone to create the Elixir of Life and resurrect Voldemort!"he exclaimed hurriedly. "So, I need your help. Please, do something, please."
The Rider regarded him with suspicion.
"Kid, do you think I'll save you again just because you asked nicely? No, I won't go to the school. I already told you that."
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. The Rider had helped him before, and now...! He thought for sure he would be there for him again.
"But why? Why don't you want to help?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Because I can't!" the Rider said, and Harry could see his hooded eyes gleaming in the darkness. "I've already told you. I won't go to the school."
"But you saved my life, you taught me, you've helped me a lot! You're my only chance. Please..."
Harry was nearly in tears.
"Please," he repeated desperately. "This is so important! I don't know what to do! Dumbledore is out of the school, and that's why it's happening tonight. McGonagall doesn't believe me, and I don't know who else to ask for help!"
The Rider slowly approached until he stood right next to Harry.
"Listen, kid. I've seen how much you've improved since we first met. But let me remind you one more time: I won't come with you. I'm sorry."
The Rider turned around and walked away without uttering another word. Harry was stunned, feeling as though the world had come crashing down.
He wanted to chase after the Rider, plead with him, beg him to change his mind, but he knew the Rider wouldn't listen anymore. The decision had been made.
"Damn it!" he whispered angrily, throwing his hands in the air. After a while, he hurried back to the castle. He had a stone to save, though he had no idea how he was going to do it.
The three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Hermione feverishly skimmed through her notes, desperately seeking, hoping to stumble upon any spells that might help them bypass the obstacles they were about to face. Harry and Ron, meanwhile, pondered the gravity of the impending task.
Gradually, the room emptied as fellow students departed for their beds.
Finally, when the last person had vanished, Harry sprang into action, retrieving his invisibility cloak and Hagrid's flute without hesitation.
As they were about to leave, Neville attempted to stop them. However, Hermione swiftly immobilised him with a spell, leaving them with a clear path forward.
Upon reaching Fluffy, they noticed a harp lying at its feet. It became evident that someone had already been past. Harry played on his flute, lulling the massive creature into a deep slumber and letting them open the trapdoor to reveal a black drop.
They descended and landed on a soft, cushiony plant. Almost immediately, they realised that the tendrils of the plant had ensnared them, binding their legs. Hermione, landing last, leaped up and struggled towards a damp wall.
After a brief, panic-filled moment, Hermione managed some fire-spell to repel the plant.
In the next room, they encountered a flock of birds, which upon closer inspection turned out to be keys. At the far end of the room stood a solid, imposing wooden door.
Predictably, the doors were securely locked.
They pursued the flying keys in the room, making use of conveniently placed broomsticks until Harry skilfully caught the right key.
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 found themselves on the edge of a massive chessboard, positioned behind the formidable black chess pieces, each taller than themselves and crafted from what appeared to be black stone.
With no path around the living stone figures, they engaged in a brutal match in which each of them played the role of a black knight, bishop, and castle. To secure victory, Ron had to make a sacrificial move. As the rival queen ruthlessly eliminated Ron's piece, it paved the way for Harry and Hermione to secure victory by checkmating the white king.
The white king removed his crown and cast it at Harry's feet, signifying their triumph. The living chess pieces parted, bowing respectfully, and cleared the way to the door ahead. With one last anguished glance backward at their fallen friend, Harry and Hermione surged through the door and into the next passageway.
"What if he's -?" Hermione began, her voice trembling with concern.
"He'll be all right," Harry replied, though he was not sure who he was attempting to reassure more. "What do you think comes next?"
"We've already faced Sprout's challenge, the Devil's Snare; Flitwick's charms with the keys; McGonagall's transfigured chessmen; that leaves Quirrell, and Snape."
They stood before yet another door, wondering what awaited them on the other side.
A sickening scent assailed their senses, prompting Harry and Hermione to pull their robes up over their noses. With eyes watering, they encountered a gruesome sight before them: an enormous troll, even larger than the one they had previously confronted, lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious and sporting a bloody lump on its head.
Moving forward, Harry and Hermione encountered a table adorned with seven bottles. As they approached, flames suddenly sealed the exits, leaving them with no choice but to solve a riddle written on a scroll of paper beside the bottles if they wanted a safe escape. Hermione successfully unravelled the riddle, and they made the hard decision to part ways. Hermione would return to assist Ron and attempt to send a message to Dumbledore.
Taking a deep breath, Harry picked up the bottle that Hermione had said would allow him to continue. "Here I come," he muttered, and with resolve, he drained the small bottle in a single gulp.
It felt as though a rush of icy coldness surged through his veins. Setting the empty bottle down, he continued cautiously, bracing himself for the fiery obstacle ahead. Flames engulfed him, but he couldn't feel their searing heat. For a moment, all he could see was fire. Then, suddenly, he found himself on the other side.
But he wasn't alone. There was already someone present, and it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.
