Harry, Ana and Othniel had just emerged from the other side of the rotating bookcase, and as soon as the wall had clicked shut behind them, they knew there was no going back. A feeling of dread unlike anything they had ever felt before had hit Ana and Othniel. Even Harry had to admit that he felt uneasy, though he had visited this underground passageway once before.

Ana and Othniel had slipped out of the invisibility cloak as they were far from the reach of faculty. Othniel folded the garment and slung it over his shoulder, and stayed directly behind Harry and Ana as they pressed onward, with their lit wands pointed outward. The chittering of arachnids and hissing of snakes chilled Ana to her core; indeed, she was tempted to shriek several times. Despite her fear of things that creep and slither, she swore to herself that she would not abandon her friends over something so trivial.

"Almost there," Harry declared as he detected a faint glow several hundred meters in the distance. "Just a few minutes more."

"Thank Merlin," panted Ana. The faint glow gradually intensified until they were unmistakably in the vicinity of the same large, subterranean grotto that Harry had traversed before.

"Whoa." Othniel simply stood in awe as he took his first steps in the massive cavern – the enormous stalagmites and stalactites that jutted from the floor and ceiling vaguely resembled a hungry dragon's maw, but that wasn't all that fascinated him – the ceiling was enchanted to make the underground grotto unnaturally bright, plus a large, roaring waterfall in the rear of the cavern, perhaps forty feet high, spilled into a waist-deep pool closer to the entrance.

"You've been here before," Ana remarked to Harry. "So, where do we go now?"

Harry pointed to the curved set of stairs on the right side of the grotto. "I believe the door that leads to the Orb is up those stairs… it's more of a gut feeling than anything, but there's a barricaded door that's probably locked tight for a reason… we need to find a way to open it." He hesitated. "But there's something, or perhaps more accurately someone, that you need to be aware of…"

It didn't take Ana long to put two and two together. "It's the typhon, isn't it? You can talk to him – can't you reason with him?"

"Yes and no," Harry admitted. "We're trespassers… he'll want to do with us as he sees fit. He very nearly made a meal out of Samantha Goldfarb – all I can say is I hope he's in a good mood today."

"Or better yet, why don't we just get back inside the cloak?" Ana suggested.

Harry looked at Ana as if she had a third eyeball. "Ana, you're unbelievably smart, but do you really think that'll help? Think about it! Serpents aren't exactly known for having keen eyesight – they have highly developed senses of smell and touch, plus many species have special organs that can detect traces of body heat. And those are just regular snakes. I'd imagine that it'd be heightened for enchanted snakes, like typhons."

"I had no idea you had any interest in herpetology," Ana replied with a shrug. "Unless the gift of parseltongue also bestowed you such knowledge."

"I had to write a five page term paper on alligators last year," Harry said with a knowing grin. "The school library didn't have a lot of books on just alligators or crocodilians in general, but they did have quite a few resources on reptiles as a whole."

Othniel's face went sheet-white. "Can't…. we talk about something else? Ana's boogers are spiders, but mine are snakes. And this typhoon you keep bringing up… I have no interest in becoming its breakfast, thank-you-very-much."

Ana burst into a fit of giggles. "Boggarts, Othniel. And a typhoon is a tropical storm much like a hurricane, except they occur in the Pacific Ocean instead of the Atlantic. A typhon is an ancient, enchanted snake gifted with sentience and a unique venom that can 'eat' the victim's magic."

"Samantha can tell you first-hand how utterly painful the bites are," Harry added. "I wouldn't wish that upon anyone – not Replogle… not even Peter Pettigrew, even though he betrayed my parents."

"I'm guessing snake repellent wouldn't do much good then," surmised Othniel. "My dad's a ranch foreman and has gallons of it."

"Probably not," agreed Ana. "In the event we encounter the typhon, and he's not in a welcoming mood, I know a few spells that can hold him off for a bit."

"I hope so," sighed Harry. "No time like the present – let's get a move on!" He started making his way up the right staircase, then came to a halt just behind the arch. He turned to Ana and Othniel and pressed a finger to his lips. "Kyr'thandios is probably lurking these hallways," he whispered. "Everyone, wands out. Try not to make a sound."

The children crept past the first archway – Othniel even crept with his back turned toward Harry and Ana just in case anyone tried to sneak up on them from behind. They continued down the passageway, passing another archway, and then another, and then…

"This is it," Harry whispered to his friends. "This is the door that guards the Orb… I can sense it…"

The massive door was so large, it was as wide as the three children standing abreast, and was almost as tall had all three of them stood on top of each other's shoulders. It seemed to be well-guarded with a half dozen vertical iron bars that ran from floor to ceiling; not to mention a trio of massive wooden planks on hinges made entry virtually impossible. Finally, the doorknob itself was dotted with various bolts and keyholes.

"Whoever put this door here really doesn't want us to enter," Othniel murmured. "Probably for good reason, too… any ideas?"

Ana pointed her wand at the door. "Alohomora!" Nothing. Again, she waved her wand, and chanted the invocation more forcefully. "Alohomora!" The door still didn't budge. She slumped her shoulders and shook her head. "If they've made it this far, there's a good chance they placed an anti-unlocking charm to prevent any followers… or at the very least, slow them down. I'm afraid there's nothing more that I can do, guys."

Harry took a couple of deep breaths, then centered himself against the door. He closed his eyes, and began to speak in a soft, sibilant language that neither Ana nor Othniel recognized. [My name is Harry Potter. My friends and I require entry, as we seek the Orb of Exuberance. We must destroy the Orb, as we fear it may soon fall into the wrong hands.]

With that, the iron bars retracted into the floor, then the planks lifted, and finally the sound of several locks clicked in rapid succession. The door pushed itself inwards, and the trio ventured inside. Seconds later, the heavy door suddenly sealed itself shut behind them, effectively trapping the children. Great, Harry thought to himself. Just like that nightmare I had last fall.

That wasn't the only similarity to his nightmare – the corridor had the same eerie glow as before, with occasional magical candelabras providing the only illumination. "Yeeugh," gulped Othniel as he took note of the macabre illustrations covering the walls… pentagrams, paganistic rituals, a council of elders paying homage to an overlord. Even Ana clapped a hand to her mouth at one particularly gruesome image of a mortal being sacrificed as tribute to a tall, horned being with long, furry legs ending in cloven goat hooves.

"Is this the real history of Ilvermorny?" Ana asked, partly to herself and partly to her friends. "Were the first witches and wizards in the New World worshipers of idols and devils? This can't be right…"

"No," came an airy reply that Ana soon realized came from neither Harry nor Othniel. She whirled clockwise ninety degrees to see the ghost of Morgan Doolittle looking at them with an expression that could be best described as desperate.

"I'm glad to see you've made it this far. Well done," she continued. She gestured toward the graphic symbols and scenes etched into the stone walls. "As far as the artwork goes, while it is part of Ilvermorny's history, these were made by Gormaith Gaunt and her followers. They came from Magical Europe to reshape Ilvermorny to match their own views on who's fit to study magic – and they very nearly succeeded."

"I've heard that story before," Harry replied. "Lord Voldemort is a descendent of Gormlaith Gaunt – both of whom are known Parseltongue speakers."

"You are correct, Harry Potter," Morgan replied. "You'll also find that Lord Voldemort isn't the only sorcerer with knowledge of Parseltongue… you're probably wondering how Peter Pettigrew got this far, and I assure you, it was not by accident."

Harry and Ana looked at each other, stunned. Morgan nodded at the three friends, before proceeding. "Tread carefully, all of you. What you've gone through so far is but child's play compared to what you'll be up against." She gestured toward the opposite end of the corridor. "When you get to the end of this passageway, you will be tasked with overcoming the Three Perlustrations…"

"Perlustrations?" Othniel asked, confused.

"Challenges, if you will," Morgan gently elaborated. "They will test your intellect, your bravery and your integrity. Success will give you access to the Orb; failure will be met with death. I'm afraid I cannot divulge anything else to you, but before I take my leave, let me impart a few words of wisdom and encouragement: As a team, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts – those like the Dark Lord or Peter Pettigrew will always underestimate the potency of friendship because neither of them truly know what it means to be a friend… a lesson I learned only too late, myself. Help each other, rely on each other, and encourage each other. And if it means anything, I believe in you."

"Thanks," Harry replied with a nod. "I guess we'll be seeing you then." He motioned for his friends to follow. "C'mon."

He led them down the passageway – somehow, it seemed much longer than the cold, damp tunnel on the other side of the bookcase. In fact, it was rather different than he remembered in his nightmare – he didn't remember all the sudden twists or occasional steep steps going downward. He didn't recall the gradual narrowing of the passageway either.

Sweat began to form on his brow, and his breathing became shallow and rapid. Suddenly, he came to a complete stop and whirled around.

"Is everything okay, Harry?" Othniel asked.

Harry took a few breaths before answering. "It's all right… I just need a minute to catch my breath is all."

"Okay," sighed Ana, "but don't take too long – we need to get to the next room and take on the Three Perlustrations!"

"I get it," panted Harry. "I'm just a little… claustrophobic is all. I just need a minute to gather my bearings."

Othniel looked around himself. "Yeah, I noticed that the passage is barely wide enough to fit all three of us, and the ceiling has certainly gotten lower… I just hope we don't have to crawl the last part… augh!" Ana bonked Othniel on top of his noggin.

After a minute's pause, Ana looked at Harry. "Are you ready?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. There's only one way out, and it's the way we're going. We might as well keep going."

The children continued through the ever-constricting tunnel for another fifteen minutes. The passage had gotten so narrow that they had to follow it single-file; the ceiling had become so low that it was mere inches above their heads. Just as the children were beginning to think that there was no end to the tunnel, they saw an opening to a chamber nearly the size of the grotto.

"We did it," Harry breathed to his friends as they emerged from the passageway. "We're finally through that tunnel!" Ana and Othniel quickly joined him as they took in the gloomy, grey room. It was much more nondescript than the grotto, though to their left, they saw stone platform with a single flight of stairs leading up to it.

"Come on," Harry urged as he made his way toward the platform. "I bet the Orb is up there." With Harry leading the way, the children ascended the staircase. Harry's eyes grew the size of silver dollars the second he stepped onto the platform… "Whoa."

About fifteen paces in front him stood an ornate obsidian platform, topped with a glass casing. Inside the glass was a strange-looking wand – well, perhaps more of a rod – with a cornflower blue fist-sized globe capping the top of it, which was held in place by three vulture talons. "This… this is the…"

"The Orb of Exuberance," a strange voice called out from the opposite end of the platform. "Yes, Harry. The most powerful wand in existence – even more so than the fabled Elder Wand!"

Harry quickly shifted his attention to the source of the voice. The man before him did not look particularly threatening, as he was not much taller than any of the children, and his rodent-like features certainly appeared more comical than menacing. "Peter Pettigrew," Harry whispered in revelation. "You… you betrayed my parents! They trusted you… how could you?"

Pettigrew hung his head in shame. "It was the last thing I wanted, believe me, Harry. I was their secret keeper, and the Dark Lord threatened to kill me if I didn't tell him everything…"

"You were a Gryffindor," Harry replied. "You should have died for them! Remus, Roger, and Sirius all would have laid their lives down for my parents without question!"

"I might have, had I thought the side of Light had a real chance to vanquish the Dark Lord," Pettigrew admitted. "His singular knowledge of the darkest of the dark arts made him more powerful than any wizard the world has ever seen… the only true option was to join him."

Harry's face flushed with anger. "No! You had so much to fight for, and you threw it all away… just so you could serve on your knees? I wish my parents saw you who for you really are… a rat."

Pettigrew chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment. I survived not because I had any real loyalty to the Dark Lord… I survived because I wanted to find a way to bring him to his knees. In my animagus, I had spent many a cold, rainy night in Knockturn Alley, overhearing countless conversations. Most of them were inconsequential, but about a year after I framed your godfather, I caught wind of some ungodly artifact that lie hidden in Magical North America… according to legend, it was crafted by Lucifer himself. If the rumors were true, I could claim the artifact for myself, and I'd bring the Dark Lord back to life with it, only to kill him again. And the next day, I'd resurrect him, just to kill him again… and I'd torment him like this for all of eternity. He'd beg me for the peace of death, but I would not relent. He deserves to suffer for his hubris."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You're insane…"

"Am I?" Pettigrew spat back. "Sometimes, a touch of madness is necessary to achieve one's goals…"

"You don't get it," Harry clarified. "The Orb is powerful, but it's going to destroy you eventually. It needs to be destroyed so that nobody – not yourself, not Lord Voldemort, not anyone – gets their hands on it. You're going to doom this castle… maybe the wizarding world as we know it!"

"Foolish boy," Pettigrew snarled. "What do you know about power? You've never seen it in action, much less tasted it yourself…" He then snapped his fingers, and a bound-and-gagged Remus Lupin floated from the far side of the platform, and went plop next to the pedestal. He then pointed his wand at Harry. "I don't have the qualities to pass these challenges, but I suspect you and your friends do." He then waved his wand toward Ana and Othniel, who were shaking on the other edge of the platform. "You two. Join your friend by the pedestal – now!"

Ana and Othniel took slow, tentative steps toward Harry. Ana looked like she was about to reach into her pocket, but Pettigrew whipped his wand in her direction at the first sign of defiance. "Don't try anything funny, young lady," he warned. "Otherwise… I can't guarantee the safety of your precious Defense professor."

Harry whispered to Ana. "It's okay. Now's not the time to resist."

Pettigrew sneered at the children. "I need you three to pass the Three Perlustrations for me. If you succeed, I'll let you and your professor return to your castle and I'll be on my way back to Magical Britain. If you fail, or if you should defy me…" He pointed his wand at Lupin's forehead. "Crucio."

"Aaaaaarrrgh!" Lupin screamed, his body writhing in sheer agony.

"That's but a mere taste," Pettigrew said smugly. He turned back to the children. "Get the picture?"

Harry gulped as he approached the pedestal. He looked at Lupin with horror – even though it was only a brief blast of moderate intensity, he knew his professor couldn't withstand such punishment forever. He knew he had to pass the trials, and find a way to prevent Pettigrew from claiming the Orb. But how?