Chapter 24:Chess and potions

The door creaked open, revealing an enormous chessboard stretching across the chamber. The black and white squares gleamed under dim torchlight, and towering, life-sized chess pieces stood in rigid formation. Their stone faces were unreadable, their presence both eerie and imposing. The only visible exit lay on the far end of the board, sealed shut.

A black knight stepped forward, armor clanking with each movement. In a deep, resonant voice, it declared, "To pass, you must play. Three of you will take the place of pieces. Win the game, and the path is yours."

Daphne scowled, arms crossing over her chest. "You're telling me we have to play a game where losing means getting smashed?"

Ron, studying the board intently, gave a grim nod. "Pretty much."

Harry turned to him. "You're the best at this, Ron. What do we do?"

Ron took a deep breath, then nodded, determination settling over his features. "Alright. Harry, you take the position of the bishop, Hermione the rook, and I'll take the knight.

Daphne hovered at the sidelines, frowning. "And what am I supposed to do?"

Ron smirked. "You need to stay on the side. Someone needs to be conscious to drag our bodies out if this goes sideways."

Daphne huffed. "Brilliant. I get to be an emergency medic."

With the first move, the enchanted chess pieces lurched to life, gliding across the board with mechanical precision. Every move was brutal—whenever they captured a piece, it was crushed into rubble. A black knight obliterated one of their pawns in a violent collision, sending shards of stone flying.

Daphne flinched slightly but kept her expression impassive. Her mask slipping a bit more with each piece taken.

Ron remained laser-focused, calling out moves with confidence. The game played out in a tense silence, each move carefully calculated.

As the board thinned, Ron's expression darkened. His eyes flickered across the remaining pieces, his jaw tightening.

They were close.

But the path to checkmate wasn't open yet.

Ron's gaze lingered on the board before he exhaled.

"I have to be taken."

Harry whipped toward him. "No."

Hermione's breath caught. "Ron, there has to be another way."

"There isn't," Ron said, his voice steady. He exhaled, forcing a smirk. "It's the only way to checkmate the king."

Daphne stepped forward, brows furrowed. "You're not seriously suggesting you let yourself get hit?"

Ron shrugged. "Looks that way."

Her usual sarcasm vanished, replaced by something sharp—concern she didn't bother hiding. "This is insane."

Ron glanced at her, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Hey, if I don't make it, tell my brothers I went out heroically."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "I'll tell them you were an idiot."

Ron turned back to Harry, voice firm. "Harry, listen. When the queen takes me, you'll be clear to checkmate the king. Remember the both of you; you can't come get me until the game is over."

Harry's breath caught.

Ron gave a small, reassuring grin. "It's just like wizard chess at home. No big deal."

Harry clenched his fists. This wasn't just a game.

Before anyone could stop him, Ron moved into the path of the black queen.

With a terrifying lunge, the queen's scepter swung through the air, striking Ron and sending him sprawling across the board.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked.

Daphne's breath hitched as she watched him crumple to the ground, unmoving.

Harry clenched his fists, turning back to the board. His vision blurred with anger, but he gritted his teeth. Ron had done this for them. They couldn't let it be for nothing.

His next move was precise. "Checkmate."

The black king trembled, then fell forward, defeated. The stone cracked as the massive piece crashed onto the board.

Silence.

Then, with a low groan, Ron shifted.

Hermione and Daphne rushed to him, Hermione dropping to her knees beside him, hands hovering uncertainly.

Daphne crouched on the other side, pressing her fingers against his wrist. "His pulse is strong." She exhaled in relief. "You're a bloody moron, but a bloody brave one at that, Weasley."

Ron cracked an eye open, giving her a weak smirk. "Yeah, but we won."

Hermione let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "That was reckless."

Harry knelt beside them, his relief evident. "That was brilliant Ron. Are you alright?"

Ron groaned, attempting to sit up but ultimately fell back down onto the stone floor. "Think I'll just… stay here for a bit. Rest my eyes."

Daphne shook her head. "Good. Because you're done."

Ron looked up at her, surprised by the sharp protectiveness in her tone.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Can you stay with him?"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Daphne spoke first.

"Hermione, you stay and take care of the bloody hero. He's most likely about to pass out. I'll go with you Harry."

Harry met her gaze, searching. He didn't even need to ask.

He gave her a small nod. "Alright."

Hermione sighed but nodded as well. She turned to Ron, already checking him over, making sure he was stable. Casting a simple cushioning charm to make him more comfortable.

Daphne stood and dusted herself off before giving Harry a pointed look. "We'd better not get killed in the next room, Potter."

Harry smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With one last glance at Ron and Hermione, he and Daphne turned toward the open doorway, stepping into the unknown.

The moment Harry and Daphne stepped into the next chamber, the door slammed shut behind them. A black fire erupted, blocking their way back, while a shimmering purple fire blazed in front of the only exit forward.

A long wooden table sat in the center of the room, lined with seven different bottles of varying shapes and sizes. A single piece of parchment lay next to them.

Daphne's sharp eyes flicked across the room, taking in every detail. "Snape," she muttered. "This has his logic written all over it."

Harry stepped forward and picked up the parchment. As soon as he did, words appeared on it as if written by an invisible hand.

He read 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 a 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 sitting on either 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."

Daphne crossed her arms, scanning the bottles with a calculating look. "Of course, it couldn't just be another bloody chess match."

Harry let out a breath, still shaken from Ron's sacrifice. He tried to focus, but the weight of everything threatened to drag him down.

Daphne, however, was already working through the riddle, her lips moving silently as she arranged the bottles in her head. Her fingers hovered over each bottle as she worked it out. "Alright," she muttered. "The poison is always next to another poison. That rules out these…" She set aside three bottles carefully.

"Neither end bottle is the one we want. That leaves…" Her hand moved between the remaining options, eyes narrowing. "This one takes us forward. And this one takes someone back."

She straightened up, expression triumphant. "Got it."

Harry looked at the two bottles she had chosen. The forward-moving one was the smallest vial on the table—barely a swallow's worth.

His stomach dropped.

"There's only enough for one," Harry said, jaw tightening.

"Yeah," she murmured.

A tense silence settled between them.

"Then you should take it," Harry said. "Go stop Snape—I'll find another way."

Daphne scoffed. "Oh, please. You're the hero, remember? You're the one who has to do this."

Harry clenched his fists. "I'm not leaving you behind."

Daphne shot him a look—sharp, unwavering. "Harry, I told you—I'm never leaving you. But we don't have a choice right now. You go save the world. I'll go and make sure Ron and Hermione get back to the hospital wing."

They stared at each other for a beat, the crackling of the magical flames the only sound between them.

Harry exhaled slowly. He knew she was right.

Daphne picked up the bottle of return potion, hesitated for a moment, then took a small sip—just enough to split it.

Harry's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

She smirked. "Splitting it. Now neither of us gets stuck in here."

She handed him the vial with the remaining portion. "When you're done, drink this and get back to us."

Harry hesitated, looking at the tiny bottle in his hand. Finally, he nodded and pocketed it.

Just as he lifted the forward potion to drink, Daphne grabbed his sleeve.

Harry looked down, startled—just in time for her to rise onto her toes and press a small, fleeting kiss to his lips.

It was quick. Barely a second. But his breath caught.

When she pulled back, her expression was somewhere between teasing and serious.

"You better come back, Potter—" she arched a brow, smirking, "—because you owe me a proper kiss."

Harry let out a sharp breath, shaking his head with a half-smile.

"Guess I don't have a choice now, do I?" he muttered.

Daphne smirked. "Nope."

Harry drank the potion. A cold chill spread through his body. He turned and stepped into the fire.

Daphne watched him disappear, her smirk fading. Then, squaring her shoulders, she turned and headed back to Ron and Hermione.