Shadows like Fire

The next day, neither Mikey nor Leo could talk. They both rubbed their throats painfully when they awoke, and when they made their ways down to the Great Hall for breakfast, the only thing they had was water.

Raph approached Leo, grimacing. “Are we going to talk about what happened yesterday?” he asked quietly, looking around.

Leo shrugged. I can’t really talk much about anything, he signed, pointing at his throat.

Raph nodded. One of those days, huh? he signed back. 

Mikey dragged his feet over to his two oldest brothers, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Me, too, bros. My throat feels like it’s on fire. Indeed, the scar on Mikey’s throat seemed to stand out harshly against his skin.

Donnie walked over to them. Should we perhaps go study in the library? Exams are coming up on Monday, Donnie said, ever the studious one. His brothers all groaned (albeit silently, for Leo and Mikey), but they all made their way to the library nonetheless.

In the years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which were bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox—points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. Ron and Raph were concerned at Harry’s lack of sleep, but neither knew that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood on it.

Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen what Harry and the others had seen in the forest, or because they didn’t have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn’t seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. Even Raph and the others had gone from worrying about the Stone to worrying about what Firenze had said to them. Harry tried to ignore their concerns, but it was difficult. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them all, but he didn’t keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying that they didn’t have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who’d invented self-stirring cauldrons and they’d be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn’t help cheering with the rest. 

“That was far easier than I thought it would be,” Hermione said as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. “I needn’t have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager.”

Donnie nodded. “That was pretty much just the basics of what we’ve learned this year,” he agreed. “But I suppose all that extra studying paid off, after all.”

Hermione and Donnie always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron and Mikey said this made them feel anxious, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. For once, Mikey didn’t have the energy to go and join them, too tired by the week of relentless exams they’d had.

“No more studying,” Ron said happily, stretching out on the grass. “You could look more cheerful, Harry, we’ve got a week before we find out how badly we’ve done, there’s no need to worry yet.”

Harry was rubbing his forehead. 

“I wish I knew what this means!” he burst out angrily. “My scar keeps hurting—it’s happened before, but never as often as this.”

The Hamato brothers nodded knowingly while Hermione frowned.

“Go to Madam Pomfrey,” she suggested.

“I’m not ill,” said Harry. “I think it’s a warning… it means danger’s coming.”

Ron couldn’t be bothered to get too worked up in the sweltering heat.

“Harry, relax, Hermione’s right, the Stone’s safe as long as Dumbledore’s around. Anyway, we’ve never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he’s not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.”

Harry nodded, but he couldn’t shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he’d forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to explain this, Hermione said, “That’s just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we’d done that one already.”

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have to do anything with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy… never… but—

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. 

“Where’re you going?” Ron said sleepily. The Hamato brothers, on the other hand, stood up as well, and Hermione and Ron had to scramble to their feet as they all made their way across the grounds.

“I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry, face pale. “We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”

“Why?” panted Hermione, scrambling to keep up.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” Harry said, near jogging up a grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?”

“What are you talking about?” said Ron, but Harry didn’t answer, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

“Hullo,” he said, smiling. “Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?”

“Yes, please,” said Ron, but Harry cut him off. The Hamatos stood silently, tense and on-edge as if something was going to come out and attack them at any moment.

“No, we’re in a hurry. Hagrid,” Harry said, “I’ve got to ask you something. You know the night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?”

“Dunno,” Hagrid said casually. “He wouldn’t take his cloak off.”

He saw their stunned expression and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not that unusual, yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog’s Head—that’s one o’ the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.

“What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?”

“Mighta come up,” said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah… he asked me what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here. … He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after… so I told him… an’ I said what I’d always really wanted was a dragon… and’ then… I can’ remember too well, ‘cause he kept buyin’ me drinks. … Let’s see… yeah, then he said he had a dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted… but he had to be sure I could handle it, he didn’ want it ter go ter any old home. … So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy.”

“Did he seem interested in Fluffy at all?” Leo asked, his voice harsh. 

“Well—yeah—how many three-headed dogs d’yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus’ play him a bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep—”

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. 

“I shouldn’ta told yeh that!” he blurted out. “Forget I said it! Hey—where’re yeh going?”

None of them spoke to each other at all until they came to halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

“We’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” said Harry breathlessly. “Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak.”

“It must have been easy, once he’d gotten Hagrid drunk,” Donnie said with a frown.

“I just hope Dumbledore believes us,” Harry said. “Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn’t stop him. Where’s Dumbledore’s office?”

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent up to see him.

“We’ll just have to—” Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

“What are you all doing inside?”

Professor McGonagall was carrying a large pile of books and staring at them curiously.

“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said. 

“See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated, confused. “Whatever for?”

Harry swallowed—now what?

“We really can’t say,” Leo said. “But it’s incredibly important that we see him.”

Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared. 

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she said coldly. “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.”

“He’s gone?” Harry said frantically. “Now?”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time—”

“But this is important.”

“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?”

“Look,” Harry said, ignoring the warning looks the Hamato brothers were throwing him and throwing caution to the winds, “Professor—it’s about the Sorcerer’s Stone—”

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn’t that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she made no move to pick them up.

“How did you—”

“Professor, we think—we know—that Sn—that someone’s going to try and steal the Stone. I’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.”

She eyed them all with a mixture of suspicion and shock.

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,” she said finally. “I don’t know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it. It’s too well protected.”

“But Professor—”

“Potter, I know what I’m talking about,” she said shortly, kneeling down to pick up the fallen books. “I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine.”

None of them moved.

“It’s tonight,” said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. “Snape’s going through that trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs, and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.”

Raph suddenly shushed Harry, and Harry and Ron wheeled around.

Snape was standing there. “Good afternoon,” he said smoothly.

They all stared at him. 

“You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

“We were—” Harry began, without any idea of what he was going to say.

“You want to be more careful,” said Snape. “Hanging around like this, people will think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it?”

Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back. 

“Be warned—any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you’re all expelled. Good day to you.”

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom. Mikey made faces behind his back, sticking his tongue out. 

“That dude has got to chill,” he said, turning to the others. 

Though Harry agreed, he looked at Michelangelo and his brothers curiously. Ever since the Forbidden Forest, they’d seemed more reserved, more withdrawn. It was as if they had just… shut down.

Focus, Harry, he thought. He blinked the thoughts away. 

“Right, here’s what we’ve got to do,” he whispered urgently. “One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape—wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione or Donnie, one of you should do it. Or you know what—the both of you should.”

“Why me?” Hermione asked. Donnie only nodded.

“It’s obvious,” said Ron. “You and Donnie can just pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know.” He put on a high voice, obviously mimicking Hermione, “‘Oh, Professor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong…’”

“Oh, shut up,” Hermione scoffed, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape with Donnie.

“And the rest of us’d better stay outside the third-floor corridor,” Harry said. “Come on.”

But that part of the plan didn’t exactly work. Though the Hamato brothers—save Donnie, of course—managed to escape the gaze of Professor McGonagall, Harry and Raph were not so lucky and caught the brunt of her temper.

“I suppose you think you’re harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!” she seethed. “Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you’ve come anywhere near here again, I’ll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own house again!”

Harry and Ron went back to the common room.

“Maybe… maybe the others stayed there?” Ron said hesitantly. Just then Raph slipped through the portrait of the Fat Lady, shaking his head. 

“We couldn’t risk it,” he said. “Mikey was getting anxious, and Leo agreed that it was too dangerous.”

“At least Hermione and Donnie are on Snape’s tail,” Harry murmured. 

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open again, and Hermione came in. 

“I’m sorry, Harry!” she said, almost on the verge of tears. “Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so I said we were waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to go get him, and I’ve only just got away, I don’t know where Snape went.”

“Well where’s Donnie?” Raph asked, arms crossed.

“I assume he’s gone back to his own common room,” Hermione sniffed. “He left when I did.”

“Well, that’s it then, isn’t it?” Harry said. He was pale, and his eyes were glittering.

“I don’t like that look,” Raph said. “Leo used to get that look when he came up with something stupid, and it never worked out for us.”

“I’m going out of here tonight and I’m going to try and get to the Stone first.”

Raph threw his hands up. “What’d I tell you?” he muttered angrily under his breath.

“You’re mad!” said Ron.

“You can’t!” Hermione said. “After what McGonagall and Snape said? You’ll be expelled!”

“So what?” Harry shouted. “Don’t you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort’s coming back! Haven’t you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won’t be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He’ll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn’t matter anymore, can’t you see? Do you think he’ll leave you or your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I’ll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it’s only dying a bit later than I would have, because I’m never going over to the Dark Side! I’m going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing any of you say is going to stop me. Voldemort killed my parents, remember?”

At this Raph sucked in a breath, his eyes turning distant. 

“You’re right Harry,” Hermione said in a small voice.

“I’ll use the Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “It’s just lucky I got it back.”

“But will it cover all of us?” asked Ron.

“All—all of us?”

“Oh, come off it, you don’t think we’d let you go alone?”

“Of course not,” said Hermine briskly. Raph nodded, a silent promise. “Besides, how do you think you’d get to the Stone without us? I’d better go and look through my books, there might be something useful…”

“But if we get caught, you’ll all be expelled.”

“Not if I can help it,” said Hermione grimly. “Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They’re not throwing me out after that.”

“And in case you haven’t noticed, my brothers and I are pretty good at getting out of trouble,” Raph said. “I should probably fill them in on this, shouldn’t I?”

When dinner time came, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat nervously apart from everyone in the common room. Raph had gone down to the Great Hall to fill his brothers in on what the plan was, so now all that was left to do was wait. Hermione was skimming through her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. Raph entered the common room, his face grim but determined. 

“Better get the cloak,” Ron muttered as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs back to the dormitory, pulling out the cloak. His eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas, and he pocketed it to use on Fluffy—he didn’t feel much like singing.

He ran back down to the common room.

“We’d better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us—if Filch spots one of our feet wandering alone on its own—”

“What are you doing?” asked a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been trying to escape.

“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” Harry said, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back. 

Neville stared at their guilty faces. 

“You’re going out again,” he said, crestfallen.

“No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?”

Raph grimaced as Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

“You can’t go out,” protested Neville. “You’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.”

“You don’t understand,” Harry tried. “This is important.”

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. 

“I won’t let you do it,” he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. “I’ll—I’ll fight you!”

At this Raph sighed, shaking his head. “I really, really don’t want to have to do that, kid,” he murmured, quietly enough that Harry wasn’t even sure if Neville could hear him.

“Neville,” Ron said, “get away from that hole and don’t be an idiot—”

“Don’t you call me an idiot!” said Neville. “I don’t think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!”

“Yes, but not to us, ” said Ron in exasperation. “There’s a difference.”

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight. 

“Go on then, try and hit me,” said Neville, raising his fists. “I’m ready!”

Harry turned to Hermione. 

“Do something,” he whispered desperately.

Hermione stepped forward.

“Neville,” she said, “I’m really, really sorry about this.”

She raised her wand.

“Petrificus Totalus!” she cried.

Neville’s arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together, and his whole body went rigid. He swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

Hermione ran to turn him over, but Raph was already there. Neville’s jaws were jammed together so he couldn’t speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking between them in horror.

“What’ve you done to him?” Harry whispered as Raph picked the poor boy up and plopped him onto the couch.

“It’s the full Body-Bind,” Hermione said miserably. “Oh, Neville, I’m so sorry.”

“We had to, Neville, no time to explain,” said Harry.

“You’ll understand later, Neville,” Ron said as they turned from him. Raph sent the kid one more apologetic look before he followed after them, fading into the shadows.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the couch didn’t feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue’s shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

“Oh, let’s kick her, just this once,” Ron whispered in Harry’s ear. Harry only shook his head as they climbed carefully around her. Mrs. Norris turned her lamp-like eyes on them, but didn’t do anything. Raph was able to ease past her, as well, and Harry started when he saw three other figures moving in the shadows. Sometime between leaving the common room and spotting Mrs. Norris, Raph’s brothers had met up with them. But Harry had bigger things to worry about than how he hadn’t noticed.

They didn’t meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “I know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?”

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. 

“Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.”

An idea popped into Harry’s head suddenly, and he lowered his voice into a hoarse whisper. “Peeves, the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.”

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

“So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir,” he said. “My mistake, my mistake—I didn’t see you—of course I didn’t, you’re invisible—forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.”

“I have business here, Peeves,” Harry croaked. “Stay away from this place tonight.”

“I will sir, I most certainly will.” Peeves rose into the air once again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.”

He scooted off, and in his haste to get away from who he thought was the Bloody Baron, he missed the four oddly-shaped shadows lurking by suits of armor.

“Brilliant, Harry!” Ron whispered.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor—and the door was already ajar. 

“Well, there you are,” Harry said, feeling his heart sink. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.”

Seeing the door open seemed to somehow make real what they were facing. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to the other two. 

“If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,” he said. “And that goes for the others as well—you can use the cloak, I won’t need it now.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ron.

“We’re coming,” Hermione said. 

“Hurry up!” Mikey whispered. 

They turned to see the door open, and a moment later, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog’s noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though they couldn’t see them.

“What’s that at its feet?” Hermione breathed.

“Looks like a harp,” Ron answered. “Snape must’ve left it there.”

“It must wake up the moment you stop playing,” said Harry. He pulled out his flute. “Well, here goes…”

He put the flute to his lips and blew. It wasn’t really a tune, but from the first note the beast’s eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog’s growls ceased—it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

“Keep playing,” Ron warned as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. Four familiar figures appeared around them, frowning. They could all feel the dog’s hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. “I think we’ll be able to pull the door open,” said Ron, peering over the dog’s back. “Want to go first, Hermione?”

“No, I don’t!”

“I’ll go first,” Leo volunteered. His brothers glared at him, but the eldest Hamato ignored them, holding Harry’s gaze.

“All right.” Ron gritted 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 asked anxiously. Mikey and Donnie leaned over the opening, peering curiously.

“Nothing—just black—there’s no way of climbing down, we’ll just have to drop.”

Leo stepped forward, his brothers close behind. Harry kept playing, even as they disappeared into the dark trapdoor.

“You’ll be fine!” they heard Donnie call a moment later. “It’s a soft landing!” They heard him mutter something, but it was too muffled for them to be able to make out what it was.

Harry kept playing. Ron dropped next, then Hermione. Harry approached the edge of the trapdoor, taking a breath. As soon as he stopped playing the flute, the dog barked, but Harry had already jumped. 

Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell, down, down, down, and—

Flump. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. He could just see the figures of Ron and Hermione sitting on either side of Harry and the Hamatos facing them. 

“We must be miles under the school,” Hermione said.

“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Raph said. His voice sounded strained, like he was struggling against something.

“Look at you all!” Hermione shrieked.

She tried to jump up, but struggled. 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. The Hamatos were nearly completely wrapped, all of them fighting against the plant’s restraints.

“Dudes,” Mikey choked out, “Snakeweek got an upgrade!”

“Stop moving!” Hermione demanded. “I know what this is—it’s Devil’s Snare!”

“Of course!” Donnie said. It seemed like he tried to smack himself in the forehead, but with the vines pinning his arms to his sides, he wasn’t exactly able to. He relaxed instantly, and was gone the next moment.

“Donnie!” his brothers screamed. 

“Relax!” Hermione screamed. “You have to relax, or it will kill you!” She did as she was saying, and like Donnie, the plant swallowed her up.

“Dudes, I know it’s hard, but they’re right!” Mikey said. He went still, and he followed after his brother and Hermione.

His voice came from somewhere below them all a moment later. “It likes the dark and the damp,” he said. 

“So light a fire!” Harry choked.

They heard Hermione gasp. “There’s no wood.”

“HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron bellowed, clearly panicking. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”

A moment later, the plant recoiled, immediately releasing its prisoners. They fell through the plant and landed on the floor next to Donnie, Mikey, and Hermione, who immediately helped pull them up. Harry thanked Donnie, brushing off the front of his robes. He glanced over at Raph, who was tense and had a look of repulsion on his face, and then turned to Mikey.

“Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Mikey,” Harry said, wiping sweat off his face. Mikey beamed at the compliment.

“Yeah,” said Ron, “and lucky Harry doesn’t lose his head in a crisis—‘there’s no wood,’ honestly.”

“This way,” Leo said, starting down a stone passageway. It was the only way forward, so everyone else followed.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Harry was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembered the dragons said to be guarding the vaults in the wizards’ bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon—Norbert had been bad enough.

“Can you hear something?” Ron whispered.

They all listened. A soft rustling and clinking sound seemed to be coming from up ahead.

“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Mikey asked.

“I don’t know… it sounds like wings to me,” Hermione said.

“This can’t be good,” Raph muttered.

“There’s light ahead—I can see something moving.”

They all followed Harry toward the end of the passageway and saw before them a brightly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them all. It was full of small, jewel-brick 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?” said Ron. 

“Probably,” Harry said. “They don’t look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once, well, there’s no other choice… I’ll run.”

 But just as he was about to cover his face with his arms, Leo held out his arm to stop him. 

“They’re not birds,” he said, regarding the room with expert precision. Harry had to wonder—as he often did—why he and his brothers seemed much older than they were. “They’re keys, and I’d bet my life that one of them opened the key to the door across the hall.”

“You won’t bet your life on anything,” Raph snarled, but Leo only rolled his eyes and pointed at some broomsticks off to the side of the room. 

“We’ll have to find the key to match the door,” Leo said. “But in order to do that, someone has to see the keyhole.”

Mikey stepped forward. “I’ll go,” he said, smiling. 

Before anyone could stop him, he bounded across the room. Harry braced himself for the keys to attack the boy, but when nothing happened, he couldn’t help but marvel at Michelangelo’s speed. He crossed the room in a matter of seconds, examined the door, then turned to them, giving a thumbs-up. 

“We’re looking for a big, old-fashioned key,” he called across the room. “Probably silver, like the handle.”

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 nearly impossible to catch one.

“Harry, aren’t you supposed to be a star Seeker?” Raph called in frustration.

But Harry had already seen it. 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.

“There!” he shouted to the others. “The big one—there—no, there—with bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side!”

Ron and Mikey dove, but Ron crashed into the ceiling and Mikey missed it by about a foot.

“We’ve got to surround it!” Leo called. He and his brothers all formed a circle around the key, keeping it between them. Hermione hovered above the key, and Ron dove below it. They allowed a small enough space for Harry to zoom through them and grab the key, but it would have to be then. There wouldn’t be a better chance than this.

“NOW!” Harry yelled.

Harry shot after the key. It sped toward the wall, and Harry leaned forward. With a nasty, crunching noise, he pinned it against the stone with one hand. Cheers from the others echoed throughout the 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 others, his hand on the door. 

“Hold on,” Leo said. He stepped forward, gripping his wand. “Let me and my brothers go first.”

Harry reluctantly stepped to the side, and Leo eased the door open. 

The next chamber was so dark they couldn’t see anything at all when the door first opened. But as soon as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

“No,” Leo breathed in horror, stumbling backward.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione also recoiled. A large, ugly animal stared back at them. Its long, wormy body stretched out halfway across the room, with large, pink wings covering the floor. It had eight skinny, spiny legs that reminded Harry too much of inchworms. It snarled at them through its beak, letting out a blood-curdling shriek. 

“I think we found out what a Grimando is,” Hermione said weakly.

Donnie’s voice shook.

“That’s no Grimando,” he said, staring at it with wide eyes. 

Mikey was oddly serious when he turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, his jaw clenched. 

“That’s the Turducken.”