Through the Trapdoor
It was scorching hot, especially in the large hall where the written exams were being held. For the exam, they had been given special new quills, enchanted with a particular spell to prevent them from copying.
The exams also included practical exercises. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his classroom to see if they could perform the special Pineapple Tickle Tap on the desk. Professor McGonagall watched them as they transformed a mouse into a snuffbox: if the snuffbox was attractive, they earned points; if it had whiskers, they lost points. Snape made everyone nervous by breathing down their necks as they tried to recall how to brew the Forgetfulness Potion.
Harry did his best, trying to ignore the sharp stabs of pain in his forehead that had been troubling him ever since that night in the forest. Since Harry couldn’t sleep, Seamus was convinced he was suffering from severe exam stress. But the truth was that he was being haunted by the same recurring nightmare, only now it was worse than ever: a hooded figure dripping with blood appeared in it.
When the last exam was finally over, the first-year Gryffindors gathered in the courtyard, where the sun was shining warmly and invitingly. They settled under a large beech tree, sprawled out on the grass. Dean and Seamus were tossing an enchanted stone back and forth, which bounced without touching the ground, while Hermione tried to persuade Ron to discuss their exam answers. Harry, sitting apart from the group, rubbed his forehead with an increasingly tense expression.
“No more revising at last!” exclaimed Ron, stretching and leaning against the trunk. “I can forget books exist for a few days.”
“That’s only because you never took the exams seriously, Ronald,” retorted Hermione, pulling out one of her notes. “I, on the other hand, plan to check if I did well.”
“Oh, give it a rest, Hermione!” protested Seamus. “You’re going to give us post-exam anxiety. It’s over—relax!”
Harry couldn’t share their enthusiasm. The scar on his forehead continued to throb, and a growing unease tormented him. He glanced up at the clear sky, but instead of finding peace, his mind fixated on one single, obsessive worry.
“Don’t you think something’s wrong?” he said suddenly, breaking the light flow of conversation.
The others looked at him in surprise. Dean dropped the stone, and Neville, who had been listening to Parvati talk about her Astronomy exam answers, leaned forward.
“What are you talking about, Harry?”
“My scar,” he explained, pointing to his forehead. “It keeps hurting. That’s never happened this often before. I can’t help but think it means something.”
“You’re probably just stressed about the exams,” Seamus interjected with a shrug. “I’ve been having weird nightmares all week too.”
“It’s not stress,” Harry insisted. “Something’s wrong. It’s like… it’s like a warning.”
“If it really were a warning, don’t you think Dumbledore would have noticed?” said Hermione logically but not reassuringly. “After all, he’s here to protect the Philosopher’s Stone. No one could get past him.”
Neville nodded with a worried expression. “But Harry could be right. If it’s some kind of signal, we need to take it seriously. Maybe we should tell someone.”
“Tell who?” snapped Seamus. “Should we go to McGonagall and say Harry’s scar hurts? Sure, they’ll give us a cup of tea and a talk about the dangers of imagination.”
“Don’t mock him,” Parvati snapped, glaring at Seamus. “Harry’s seen things we can’t even imagine. If he says something’s wrong, I believe him.”
“So do I,” said Dean, his tone serious enough to grab everyone’s attention. “We should at least investigate. We can’t just ignore it.”
Ron scoffed, crossing his arms behind his head. “You’re all a bit paranoid, you know? The Stone is safe, Dumbledore’s here, and Snape already almost got killed by Fluffy once. I don’t think he’s eager to try again.”
“What if someone found a way?” Neville countered. “What if something happened that we don’t know about? Security isn’t foolproof.”
Lavender chimed in, her voice trembling. “I don’t understand why we always have to think the worst. Couldn’t it just be… a coincidence?”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m not willing to take that chance. And there’s something coming to mind…”
Parvati watched him closely. “What is it?”
Harry stood up abruptly, suddenly pale. “Hagrid. We need to talk to him right away. He’s the only one who knows how to calm Fluffy. If something’s wrong, it might have started there.”
“Oh, come on, Harry,” protested Seamus. “Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore.”
“I’m not saying he did it on purpose,” Harry replied, looking around at the group. “But Hagrid might have said something to someone without thinking. You know what he’s like.”
Neville stood up as well. “I’m in, Harry. If it’s important, we have to do something.”
“Me too,” added Dean. “We can’t just ignore it.”
Ron and Hermione exchanged weary glances but eventually, Ron stood up. “Alright, but only because otherwise, you’ll keep worrying about it. And I want to see how you explain this theory to Hagrid.”
But before Harry could reply, Seamus raised a hand to silence them. “Wait a minute. There’s no need to go to Hagrid,” he said with an amused smile. “He’s already here.”
The group turned abruptly, following Seamus’ gaze. A few meters away, Hagrid was approaching them with his usual heavy steps. He was carrying an enormous wooden crate awkwardly balanced on one shoulder and waving with his free hand, seemingly oblivious to the commotion that had just erupted.
“Hagrid!” exclaimed Harry, running toward him with his heart pounding.
“Hello, everyone!” Hagrid greeted with a friendly smile. “What are you all doing here? I thought you’d still be busy with exams. Lovely day, isn’t it?” Then he set the crate down on the grass with a thud and wiped his forehead with an enormous handkerchief.
“Hagrid, I need to ask you something. You know that night when you won Norbert? What did the stranger you played cards with look like?”
“Eh?” replied Hagrid vaguely, “Never took his cloak off.”
When he noticed all the Gryffindors staring at him in shock, he raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not so unusual. Loads of strange folks come by the Hog’s Head down in the village. Might’ve been a dragon dealer, you know? Anyway, never saw his face—he always kept his hood up.”
Harry stared at him in horror as the others gaped.
“And what did you talk about, Hagrid? Did you ever mention Hogwarts to him?” Hermione asked.
“Maybe,” Hagrid answered, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah... He asked what I did for a living, and I told him I was the gamekeeper here... Then he asked what kind of creatures I looked after. I told him... and I also mentioned that I’d always wanted a dragon... Then... I don’t remember too well because he kept buying me drinks. Let’s see... yeah, then he said he had a dragon egg and if I wanted, we could play cards for it... But I had to promise to look after it properly. He didn’t want it ending up locked in some house... So I told him that, after Fluffy, keeping a dragon would be easy...”
“And did he… show any interest in Fluffy?” Harry asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.
“Well, yeah... I mean, you don’t see three-headed dogs every day, even around Hogwarts, do you? So I told him Fluffy was as sweet as could be if you knew how to calm him. Just play him a bit of music, and he’d fall asleep like an angel...”
Suddenly, a look of horror dawned on Hagrid’s face.
“Blimey, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that!” he stammered. “Forget everything! Hey… where are you going?”
The Gryffindors didn’t speak until they stopped in the entrance hall, where the cool air and stone floor contrasted with the scorching courtyard. Harry’s heart was still racing, and not just because of their sprint from Hagrid’s hut.
“We have to go to Dumbledore,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy. If it was Snape or, worse, Voldemort… We can’t wait.”
Hermione glanced nervously around. “What if someone sees us? If we all start wandering around together, we’ll attract attention.”
“Right,” Harry nodded. “Here’s what we’ll do: let’s split up. We’ll meet back in the common room in an hour. Ron, Hermione, and I will try to find Dumbledore’s office. I’ll let you know everything as soon as we’re back.”
Neville looked like he wanted to object, but Parvati put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll sort this out, Harry.”
“I will,” Harry replied with a small smile. “See you later.”
Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, and Parvati slowly walked back to the courtyard, trying to look relaxed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed for the main staircase, glancing around for any sign of the Headmaster’s office.
“But where is it?” muttered Ron, exchanging a look with Harry.
“No one’s ever told us,” Harry replied. “But it has to be here somewhere…”
Just then, a familiar voice made them jump. “What are you three doing here?”
They turned quickly to find Professor McGonagall standing in front of them, carrying a large stack of books and wearing a questioning expression.
“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” said Hermione, with a courage that Harry found incredible.
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, surprised and suspicious. “See Professor Dumbledore?” she repeated, studying them closely. “And why?”
Harry hesitated for a moment. “Well, it’s kind of a secret…” he began, but immediately regretted his words. McGonagall’s nostrils flared.
“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she said in a chilly tone. “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and went straight to London.”
Harry froze. “He left?” he stammered. “Right now?”
“Professor Dumbledore is a great wizard; his presence is required in many places,” replied McGonagall with a hint of irritation. Then she added, with a touch of sternness: “I hope this isn’t another scene related to your punishment. Be aware that Mr. Black has written to both me and the Headmaster, but it changes nothing. Professors are well within their rights to assign detentions, and Sirius Black would do well to remember that.”
Despite the mention of his godfather, Harry didn’t flinch. “We’re not here about that,” he said.
“Oh, really?” McGonagall scrutinized him with an inquisitive expression. “Then, Potter, why do you want to see Professor Dumbledore?”
Harry swallowed hard. What could he say? For a moment, he considered making up an excuse but realized it wouldn’t work. He had to take the risk.
“It’s about the Philosopher’s Stone,” he finally said.
The pile of books McGonagall was holding fell to the floor with a dull thud. She stared at them for a moment, unmoving, before looking up at Harry.
“And how… how do you know about that?” she asked, her voice trembling with disbelief.
“Professor, I think—no, I know—someone is trying to steal the Stone,” Harry said urgently. “I have to talk to Professor Dumbledore.”
The teacher watched them for a long moment, her expression a mix of horror and suspicion. She seemed to wrestle with something internally, but finally, she shook her head.
“Professor Dumbledore will return tomorrow,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I don’t know how you learned about this, but rest assured, no one can steal the Stone. It is far too well protected.”
“But, Professor…” Harry began.
“I know what I’m saying, Potter,” McGonagall interrupted. Then she bent down to pick up her books. “Now, I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy this lovely sunshine.”
“Tonight,” said Harry when he was sure McGonagall was out of earshot. “Tonight, Snape’s going to go through the trapdoor. He’s found everything he needs, and now Dumbledore’s out of the way. I bet he sent that owl himself—imagine the Ministry’s surprise when they see Dumbledore arrive.”
“But what can we…” Hermione’s words caught in her throat. Harry and Ron spun around.
Standing in front of them was Snape.
“Good afternoon,” he said calmly.
The three stared at him.
“You shouldn’t be indoors on a day like this,” Snape continued, with an odd, forced smile.
“We were just…” Harry began, with no idea how to finish.
“You need to be more careful,” Snape said. “If you loiter around like this, people might think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor can’t afford to lose any more points, can it?”
Harry flushed. They turned to head back outside, but Snape called after them.
“You’re warned, Potter: if I catch you sneaking around at night again, I’ll personally see to your expulsion. Good day.”
And he walked away, heading toward the staff room.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged frustrated glances but didn’t dare respond. Once McGonagall was out of sight, Harry clenched his fists and murmured, “We can’t wait until tomorrow. We have to act now.”
Hermione and Ron nodded, and without another word, they headed to the common room, ready to gather the others and decide on their next move.
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the common room, the others were already waiting. Dean and Seamus were sitting on one of the couches, while Lavender and Parvati leaned against the fireplace. Neville was perched on a stool, nervous but resolute.
Harry stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Well, this is it, isn’t it?”
All eyes were on him. He was pale, but his eyes shone with unwavering determination.
“Tonight, I’m going down there to get to the Stone before he does,” he announced.
Dean’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You’re saying you’re going to—”
“You’re mad!” Ron exclaimed, cutting him off.
“You can’t do it!” added Hermione, frowning. “After what Snape and McGonagall said? You’ll get expelled!”
“So what?” Harry burst out, raising his voice. “Don’t you get it? If Snape gets the Stone, Voldemort comes back! There won’t even be a Hogwarts to get expelled from! He’ll destroy it, or worse, turn it into a school for Dark Magic. Losing points doesn’t matter anymore, don’t you understand? This is life or death!”
The others fell silent, stunned by his resolve.
“Look,” Harry continued, his voice breaking. “I’m going through that trapdoor tonight, and nothing you say will stop me. Voldemort killed my parents, and I won’t stand by and watch him come back to kill more people.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Hermione spoke in a small voice. “You’re right, Harry.”
“You’re not going alone, though,” said Neville, clenching his fists. “If you think we’re letting you face all this alone, you’re dead wrong.”
Dean nodded. “We’re a team, Harry. If you’re going, we’re all going.”
“Yes, Harry,” added Parvati calmly. “We’re not leaving you. Not this time.”
Harry looked at them, incredulous but moved. “But… if we get caught, you’ll all be expelled too.”
“So what?” Seamus retorted. “We can’t sit back and do nothing while you risk your life. It’s a bit more important than exams, isn’t it?”
“Besides,” added Hermione with a touch of pride, “I’m not getting expelled. Flitwick told me I scored one hundred and twelve percent on his exam. If they kick me out, Hogwarts will lose its brightest student.”
The room burst into nervous laughter, but the moment of levity quickly faded.
“Then it’s settled,” Neville said. “We’ll all go, but we need to be careful. How are we going to do it?”
Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. “We’ll use this. Three of us can fit under it and lead the way. The rest will follow close behind, but quietly.”
“We’ll need to be very cautious,” Hermione said. “No noise, no lights.”
“Yes, it’ll be like a stealth mission,” added Dean, seeming amused by the idea. “Our goal: avoid trouble and save the wizarding world.”
“It’s not a joke, Dean,” Parvati warned, though her lips twitched in a slight smile.
“I know,” Dean replied. “But a little humor doesn’t hurt, right?”
Ron stood up, huffing. “So, when do we start?”
“Tonight,” Harry said firmly. “After everyone’s gone to bed. Bring your wands and be ready for anything.”
The group nodded in unison. Before they dispersed to prepare, Hermione approached Harry.
“No matter what happens down there,” she said, looking him in the eye, “we’re with you all the way.”
“I know,” Harry replied, feeling the weight of their trust. “And I’m lucky to have friends like you.”
“Not friends,” Seamus interjected with a grin. “A family.”
The group broke up soon after, ready to meet again that night for the greatest challenge of their lives.
After dinner, the air in the common room was electric. The Gryffindor group was scattered around the room, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione, her face set with determination, flipped through her notes with trembling hands, searching for useful spells for the night. Dean and Seamus whispered jokes to each other, trying to lighten the mood but failing. Parvati and Lavender huddled together, gripping their wands tightly, while Neville sat near the fireplace, staring into the flames with an unreadable expression.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were silent, all too aware of the enormity of what they were about to do. One by one, the older students began retreating to their dormitories, leaving the group increasingly alone in the common room. When Lee Jordan finally stretched and headed toward the stairs, Harry whispered, “It’s time.”
He stood slowly and climbed to the boys’ dormitory. Once inside the dark room, he retrieved the Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and folded it carefully. When he returned downstairs, he distributed the cloak, and the others prepared their wands.
“Alright,” Harry said. “Ron, Hermione, and I will go ahead under the cloak. We’ll scout and signal any danger. Seamus, you’ll be right behind with Neville and Lavender. Parvati and Dean will bring up the rear. No noise, no panic. Are we ready?”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group.
They slipped out of the common room through the portrait hole, moving as silently as possible. The Fat Lady watched them with wide eyes.
“What are you doing—” she began, but Hermione was quick. “Quiet, Fat Lady! It’s a school emergency!”
The woman in the portrait looked at them suspiciously but chose not to press the matter and swung shut with a click.
The corridor outside the common room was deserted and silent, broken only by the faint creaks of the old castle.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione, under the cloak, led the group, scanning every corner. Each step seemed amplified in the silence.
They managed to reach the third-floor corridor without incident, but just as they approached the trapdoor, a rustling sound froze them in their tracks.
“Who’s there?” A shrill, annoying voice echoed down the corridor. It was Peeves the Poltergeist.
Harry held his breath. Peeves hovered above them, grinning maliciously. “Oh, oh, what’s this? Little students out of bed, eh? Peeves is going to tell Filch, Peeves is going right now!”
Thinking quickly, Harry cleared his throat and, imitating a deep, ghostly tone, said, “Peeves, be quiet! It’s me, the Bloody Baron!”
The poltergeist stopped, floating mid-air. “B-Baron?” he stammered, visibly shaken. “I didn’t know you were… but why are you…”
“Don’t ask questions!” Harry growled. “This doesn’t concern you. Go about your rounds and don’t say a word, or I’ll deal with you myself!”
Peeves nodded frantically and vanished with a swoosh.
Hermione and the others, who had been hiding behind a column, emerged.
“Brilliant, Harry,” Dean murmured. “I didn’t know you were so good at impressions.”
“I’m not even sure how I managed it,” Harry admitted. “Let’s keep going.”
They reached the third-floor corridor with their hearts pounding furiously. The door was closed, but from the room beyond, a faint harp sound could be heard. They exchanged nervous glances.
“Someone’s already been here,” Hermione whispered. “It must be Snape. He’s put Fluffy to sleep.”
Harry nodded, gripping his wand. “There’s no time to lose.”
He slowly pushed the door open, which creaked as it moved. The harp’s music filled the air, and for a moment, they were relieved to see Fluffy lying on the floor, the three enormous noses rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep. The magical harp, placed against the wall, continued to play softly.
“Alright,” said Harry. “Let’s go.”
But just as they stepped into the room, the harp’s music abruptly stopped. Like a snapped string, silence fell heavy and ominous.
Fluffy’s eyes snapped open, and the dog rose with a threatening growl. Three heads moved simultaneously, sniffing the air, and a deep rumble echoed through the room.
Harry froze. “The flute!” he whispered in horror. “I forgot it!”
“What now?” Ron said, panic rising in his voice.
“Does anyone know how to play the harp?” Hermione asked, staring desperately at the abandoned instrument.
No one answered. Fluffy was already baring his teeth.
Suddenly, Lavender stepped forward. “I can’t play anything,” she said in a trembling voice, “but... I can sing!”
Everyone turned to her, incredulous.
“What?” Ron asked.
“I’m good at singing,” Lavender said, already preparing herself. “And we don’t have many options, do we?”
Without waiting for a reply, Lavender closed her eyes, cleared her throat, and began to sing. Her voice was clear, melodious, and though it lacked the enchanted rhythm of the harp, it had a sweet and soothing quality that seemed to work.
Harry noticed the tension in Fluffy’s movements easing. The dog’s ears lowered slightly, and the three noses stopped sniffing insistently. The heads’ eyelids began to droop again, and Fluffy slowly started to relax.
“It’s working,” Parvati whispered, wide-eyed.
“Keep going, Lavender,” Hermione urged, holding her breath.
Lavender raised her voice, adding a softer, deeper tone. With a final yawn, Fluffy collapsed to the ground, returning to a deep sleep.
“She did it,” Neville murmured, astonished.
Lavender stopped singing and turned to the others, her face lit with a mix of relief and pride. “That wasn’t so hard,” she said, though she was visibly trembling.
Harry nodded quickly. “There’s no time for compliments. Let’s go.”
He approached the trapdoor beneath the massive body of the sleeping dog and cautiously opened it. A rush of cool air rose from below.
“Who’s going first?” Seamus asked.
“I will,” Harry said resolutely. “Wait until I signal for you.”
And so, one by one, they began to lower themselves into the darkness below, ready to face the challenges awaiting them.
Harry was joined by Ron and Hermione, who looked around, surrounded by a faint light and the slimy tendrils of a plant. They were soon followed by Neville, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, and Seamus, who descended one by one into the trapdoor, landing on something soft... yet treacherous.
“What’s happening?” Lavender shouted as the plant’s tendrils began to tighten around her ankles. “Why is it moving?”
“It’s not a normal plant!” Hermione yelled, trying to wriggle free, but the more she struggled, the tighter the tendrils gripped. “It’s Devil’s Snare!”
“What’s that?” Dean asked, trying to free his feet.
“A magical plant that tightens around you if you struggle,” Hermione replied, her tone panicked. “You have to stay calm... or, or...”
The tendrils of the wicked plant seemed to be winning. Parvati was almost completely ensnared, and even Harry, who had stopped struggling, felt himself suffocating.
“Staying calm isn’t enough!” Ron yelled. “This stuff won’t let us go!”
At that moment, Neville, who had remained relatively calm compared to the others, seemed to have an idea. “I... I know what to do!” he shouted. “I read about this plant in Practical Herbology for Young Wizards! It calms down only with light and heat!”
“Then do it, Neville!” Seamus urged, now immobilized.
Neville focused, ignoring the tendrils climbing around his waist. With a swift motion, he drew his wand and shouted, “Lumos Solem!”
A beam of bright, warm light erupted from his wand, illuminating the entire room. The reaction was immediate: the plant’s tendrils recoiled like frightened snakes, releasing everyone. Harry collapsed to the ground, breathing deeply, while Ron sighed in relief.
“Neville, that was incredible!” Parvati exclaimed, rubbing her freed ankles.
“You saved us!” Hermione added, visibly impressed. “You did exactly the right thing.”
Neville scratched the back of his neck nervously, but a proud smile spread across his face. “Well, Herbology is my strong suit...” he mumbled.
“Thank goodness it is,” Harry said, getting to his feet. “We’re lucky to have you with us, Neville.”
“We need to keep moving,” Dean urged, looking toward the passageway that had opened beyond the now-retracted plant. “Snape might already be far ahead.”
“Yes,” Harry nodded. “We can’t waste time. Alright, team, let’s go!”
With Neville leading the group through the passage, they left the Devil’s Snare behind, ready for the next challenge.
The group advanced cautiously through the dark, damp passageway, with Neville at the front and Harry right behind him, everyone’s heart pounding in their chest. Finally, they reached a circular room with a high domed ceiling. The room was completely dark, save for a few flickering lights floating in the air like stars in the night sky. On the floor was an elaborate design resembling a star map, with lines connecting some of the glowing points.
“What is this stuff?” Seamus asked, squinting at the ceiling.
“It looks like... a planetarium,” Hermione replied, cautiously walking toward the center of the room.
Harry pointed to a door on the other side of the room, blocked by a shining star-shaped symbol. “We probably need to open that door to move forward,” he said. “But how?”
Hermione studied the symbol carefully but shook her head. “It’s not a spell I know.”
Parvati approached the design on the floor, studying it closely. “Wait a minute,” she said, her voice more confident. “This is a constellation. I recognize it—it’s Orion.”
“And?” Ron asked, puzzled. “What do we do with Orion?”
Parvati knelt, running her hand over the design. “Look, there are small holes where the stars should be,” she said. “They must be connected somehow. If we complete the constellation, maybe the door will open.”
Hermione nodded, looking at the ceiling. “The floating lights must represent the stars, but they’re out of place. We probably need to align them correctly with the map on the floor.”
Parvati took out her wand and focused. “Let me try. This is my favorite subject.”
She raised her wand and said firmly, “Wingardium Leviosa!”
One of the flickering lights responded to the spell, floating slowly toward the ceiling. Parvati carefully guided it, positioning it above one of the holes on the Orion map. The light descended gently into the hole, illuminating it with a soft white glow.
“It’s working!” Dean exclaimed.
With extraordinary patience and precision, Parvati continued moving the lights, one by one, until the entire Orion constellation was completed. When she placed the final star in its spot, the room filled with a beam of light that shot from the floor and struck the symbol on the door. The symbol glowed brightly, and the door swung open with a deep rumble.
“Parvati, you’re brilliant!” Harry exclaimed, visibly impressed.
Parvati smiled, still holding her wand. “Astronomy is my strong suit,” she said simply.
“We noticed,” Hermione added with a grin.
Harry paused before crossing the newly opened door and turned to the group, quickly considering their next move. The challenges were clearly designed to slow or stop anyone trying to pass; if someone was following them, they needed to buy time.
“Neville, Lavender,” he said, addressing them seriously, “I need you to stay here. If someone comes, send us a signal.”
Neville’s eyes widened. “What if it’s Snape... or someone else?”
Harry nodded. “I’m not asking you to confront them directly. If you see anyone, send red sparks with your wand. That’ll warn us and give us time to prepare.”
“And if we can’t stop them?” Lavender asked, her voice trembling.
“Just do your best,” Harry said firmly. “Every second we gain could make the difference. We’re counting on you.”
Neville swallowed hard but nodded with determination. “Alright, Harry. We won’t let anyone through without trying to stop them.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll manage,” Lavender added, trying to appear more confident than she felt. “Seamus taught us enough stunning spells to hold off anyone.”
Harry smiled at them gratefully. “You’re amazing. Be careful, and don’t do anything reckless. And... thank you.”
Neville and Lavender positioned themselves near the open door, wands at the ready, with the resolute expressions of those who knew they had an important responsibility.
Harry turned to the others.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Every second counts.”
Parvati, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Hermione followed him through the doorway, leaving Neville and Lavender behind, ready to do their part to ensure the group had a chance to reach the Philosopher’s Stone first.
Harry observed the room full of winged keys, frowning, but this time he wasn’t alone. The entire group paused to scan the ceiling, glittering and buzzing with movement. Parvati carefully studied the heavy wooden door on the other side of the room, while Seamus had already drawn his wand, ready for anything.
“Okay, it’s obvious these keys aren’t just decoration,” said Harry, looking at the brooms leaning against the wall. “We need to catch one. But there are hundreds...”
Seamus gave a confident smile and twirled his wand. “I could do a bit of cleaning up.”
Harry turned to him with a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“Depulso,” said Seamus simply. “I can move away the keys we don’t need and clear the way for the right one. That way, we won’t have to zigzag like mad.”
Parvati raised an eyebrow. “It’s a smart idea... as long as you don’t send away the one we actually need.”
“That won’t happen,” Seamus replied confidently. “Harry, describe the key we’re looking for.”
Harry studied the door carefully, then scanned the swirling keys above them. “Probably a large, old-fashioned key. Silver, like the handle. Look... that one with the blue wings and a slightly bent wing.”
Seamus raised his wand and aimed. “I’ve got this.” Concentrating, he shouted, “Depulso!”
A wave of keys was pushed aside as if by a magical gust of wind, scattering away from the group and leaving the silver key in the center of the room. The others fluttered against the walls, and some fell to the ground, clearing the way for Harry.
“Brilliant work, Seamus!” said Ron enthusiastically.
“It’s not over yet,” Harry replied, grabbing a broom. “Dean, Ron, come with me. Let’s surround it like last time. Hermione, wait here and prepare to move on. Seamus, Parvati, stay here and keep an eye on the room. If something goes wrong, you can help Neville and Lavender if they need it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me up there too?” Seamus asked, but Harry shook his head.
“You’ve already done enough. And having you here as backup is just as important.”
Parvati nodded, positioning herself near the door to study it more closely. “If anyone needs to come down, we’ll let them know. Go on.”
Harry, Ron, and Dean launched into the air on the brooms. With fewer keys in the way thanks to Seamus’s spell, the chase was much easier. Following the silver key with the bent wing, Harry approached it while Ron circled above and Dean below.
“Now!” Harry shouted.
The key made a sharp move to escape, but with a perfect leap, Harry caught it mid-air, clutching it tightly in his hand. They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door. The key wriggled, but he slid it into the lock and turned it. With a click, the door swung open.
Harry turned to Seamus and Parvati. “Stay here and keep your eyes open. Let us know if something happens.”
“Don’t worry, Harry,” said Seamus, gripping his wand with a determined smile. “We’ve got this.”
Parvati added with a half-smile, “And if needed, you’ll find us ready.”
Harry nodded and then turned to Ron and Hermione. “Let’s go.”
They passed through the door, leaving Parvati and Seamus behind, who positioned themselves, ready to face any surprises.
The next room was so dark that they couldn’t see a thing. But as they entered, it was suddenly flooded with light, and the scene before them was astonishing.
They found themselves on the edge of a giant chessboard, behind the black pieces, all much taller than them and carved out of what seemed to be stone. Opposite them, at the far end of the vast room, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dean gazed at the towering stone figures before them with a mix of awe and fear.
“It’s incredible,” Dean murmured, observing the tall and imposing figures silhouetted against the dim light of the room. “But unsettling.”
“We have to play,” Ron said confidently. “There’s no other way to get through this room.”
“Play?” Hermione asked, looking at him with concern. “And how do you think we’ll win? We can’t waste time.”
Ron paused, examining the arrangement of the pieces on the chessboard. “I’m the best at chess among us,” he said without false modesty. “We need to take the place of some of the pieces. But we have to be careful. If we lose... they won’t go easy on us.”
Harry nodded. “Which pieces should we replace?”
Ron studied the board for a moment, then pointed decisively. “I’ll be the knight, Harry will be the rook, Hermione the pawn... Dean, you’ll take the place of the black queen. You’re sharp enough to figure out the moves needed to protect us.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, impressed. “The queen? Big responsibility. I hope I’m up to it.”
“There’s no alternative,” Ron said. “Are you ready?”
The stone pieces seemed to be listening. A rook, a knight, a pawn, and the black queen moved aside to make room for the group, their slow, heavy movements echoing in the room.
Ron, with a determined air, positioned himself in the center. “White moves first,” he explained. “Let’s get ready.”
The game began, and the white pieces made their first move. Ron started directing the black pieces’ moves, speaking calmly and precisely. “Dean, advance one square. Harry, cover the position with a lateral move. Hermione, be ready to sacrifice yourself to protect Dean if necessary.”
Harry watched the battlefield with his heart pounding in his chest. The white pieces moved with ruthless precision, and every move seemed to bring a new threat. When a black knight was taken by the white queen, Harry flinched, but Ron remained unfazed.
“It was necessary,” Ron said. “Dean, cover that diagonal. Hermione, prepare your next move.”
Hermione clenched her fists but followed the order. Meanwhile, Dean moved nimbly along the board, carefully observing the opponents’ movements.
The tension peaked when the white queen began targeting them directly. “There’s no way to avoid it,” Ron said, his face pale but determined. “I’ll sacrifice myself. It’s the only option to take down the queen and give Harry a chance to checkmate.”
“No!” Hermione protested. “We’ll find another way!”
“There’s no time,” Ron retorted. “Harry, listen: keep your eye on the white king. After I’m taken, you’ll have the opening to end it.”
Dean looked conflicted but eventually nodded. “You’re right, Ron. Do it, but hurry.”
Ron moved forward one square, and the white queen struck like lightning. With a sharp blow, she hit him with her stone arm, knocking him unconscious. Hermione let out a cry, but Dean placed a hand on her arm to steady her.
Harry gritted his teeth and moved quickly. He shifted three squares sideways and advanced directly toward the white king. “Checkmate!” he shouted.
The white king froze, then slowly removed his crown and placed it on the ground. With a deafening rumble, the white pieces retreated, clearing the way to the next door.
Harry, Hermione, and Dean stopped just beyond the door, their backs still facing the giant chessboard. Hermione knelt beside Ron one last time, placing a hand on his forehead to check if he was still unconscious.
“Listen,” Harry began, turning to them, “this is my task. I can’t risk anything happening to you two. Ron is already out, and if something happens to you...”
Hermione interrupted him, a spark of determination in her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harry. We’re not letting you go alone.”
“Hermione’s right,” Dean added, crossing his arms. “It doesn’t matter what’s ahead. We’re in this together. We were from the start, and that’s not changing now.”
Harry looked at both of them, torn, but eventually nodded with a sigh. “Fine. But if things go bad, you’ll go back. Promise me.”
Hermione avoided answering, while Dean gave a faint smile. “We’ll see.”
They cautiously opened the door, and immediately a nauseating smell hit them. The air was thick and foul, and a deep growl echoed through the room. Harry advanced, gripping his wand tightly, but as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they saw the enormous silhouette of a troll.
It was even larger than the one they had faced on Halloween, wielding a gigantic club in one enormous, knotted hand.
The troll turned slowly toward them, its small, shiny eyes fixating on them with a primal hunger. Then it raised its club with a threatening grunt.
“Back!” Harry hissed, but the troll advanced, shaking the floor with its heavy steps.
“We need to blind it!” Dean shouted, raising his wand. “Incendio!”
A burst of flames shot from his wand, striking the troll in the eyes. The creature brought a massive hand to its face, roaring and shaking its head to rid itself of the pain. Hermione joined Dean, pointing her wand at the troll’s face.
“Lumos Solem!” she shouted, and a blinding light flooded the creature, forcing it to close its eyes and stumble backward.
Harry rushed to her and Dean, grabbing their arms. “Keep it up, I’ll knock it out!”
The troll, blinded and furious, swung its club wildly, narrowly missing Harry, who ducked to avoid it. Then, with a decisive flick of his wand, Harry took control of the troll’s club, shouting, “Wingardium Leviosa!”
“Now!” Dean shouted, pointing his wand at the troll again to keep it disoriented. Harry levitated the club above the troll’s head and, with all the force he could muster, brought it crashing down onto the troll’s head.
The creature staggered, its eyes clouding over, and collapsed to the ground with a thud that shook the room.
The three stood still for a few seconds, listening to each other’s ragged breaths. Finally, Dean let out a tired smile. “That’s done. I don’t think it’ll be getting up anytime soon.”
Hermione nodded, her face pale but resolute. “We can’t waste any more time. Dean, go back to Ron and warn the others. Harry and I will continue.”
Dean hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. “Alright. But you two, be careful, okay? If Snape’s ahead of you, don’t confront him. Come back and get help.”
Harry didn’t respond. With a resolute look, he turned toward the next door.
He pulled it open. They barely had the courage to see what was next. But instead of something terrifying, they found a room with a table lined with seven bottles of various shapes.
“This has Snape’s touch all over it,” Harry muttered. “What do we do?”
They stepped inside, and immediately, purple flames flared up in the doorway behind them. At the same moment, black flames erupted from the doorway ahead. They were trapped.
“Look!” Hermione grabbed a roll of parchment lying on the table beside the bottles. Harry leaned over her shoulder to read it:
Before you is danger; behind, safety.
Two among us will help you; use your skill.
One of seven will let you go forward.
Another will let you retreat.
Two are filled with nettle wine.
Three are deadly poison.
Choose or remain forever in torment.
To help you choose, we give you four clues:
First, though cunning, the poison is concealed,
The nettle wine is hidden to the left.
Second, those at the extremes are different,
But the way forward remains unclear.
Third, as you can see, no two are alike,
Only the giant and the small are safe.
Fourth, the second on the right and second on the left
Taste the same but are different to see.
Hermione let out a deep sigh, and to Harry’s amazement, she smiled. It was the last thing he’d expected her to do.
“Brilliant!” Hermione said. “This isn’t magic—it’s logic. It’s a riddle. So many great wizards lack an ounce of logic: they’d be stuck here forever.”
“And so will we, right?”
“Of course not,” Hermione replied. “This parchment tells us everything we need to know. Seven bottles: three contain poison, two have wine, one will let us safely pass through the black fire, and one will let us go back through the purple flames.”
“But how do we know which one to drink from?”
“Give me a minute.”
Hermione read and reread the parchment several times. Then she paced up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them occasionally. Finally, she clapped her hands.
“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed. “The smallest bottle will let us pass through the black fire... to reach the Stone.”
Harry looked at the smallest bottle.
“There’s barely enough for one of us,” he observed. “Not even a full sip.”
They exchanged a glance.
“And which one will let us go back through the purple flames?”
Hermione pointed to a plump bottle at the far right of the row.
“You drink that one,” Harry said. “No, listen... go back to the others... grab the brooms from the flying key room. With those, you’ll be able to get out through the trapdoor and avoid Fluffy... Then head straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore: we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him. Also, use a school owl and send one to Sirius. Tell him I love him and I’m sorry I didn’t tell him anything sooner.”
“But Harry... what if You-Know-Who is with him?”
“Well... I got lucky once, didn’t I?” Harry said, pointing to his scar. “Maybe I’ll get lucky again.”
Hermione’s lips trembled, and suddenly she threw her arms around Harry’s neck.
“But Hermione—”
“Harry... you’re a great wizard, you know?”
“Not as good as you,” Harry replied, embarrassed, as she let go.
“We’ve been through this!” Hermione said. “And I repeat... I’m just books and a bit of cleverness! But there are more important things than that: friendship, bravery, and... Oh, Harry! Please be careful!”
“You drink first,” Harry said. “Are you sure it’s the right one?”
“Of course,” Hermione replied. Then she took a long sip from the plump bottle and shivered.
“It’s not poison, is it?” Harry asked anxiously.
“No... but it feels like ice.”
“Hurry, go before it wears off.”
“Good luck... and be careful...”
“GO!”
Hermione turned and strode straight through the purple flames.
Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned toward the black flames.
“Here I come,” he said, then drained the bottle in one gulp.
It felt as though ice flooded his body. He set the bottle down and stepped forward; he clenched his fists, saw the black flames licking his body, but didn’t feel their heat... For a moment, he saw nothing but black fire... then he found himself on the other side, in the final room.
Someone was already there... but it wasn’t Snape. And it wasn’t Voldemort.