We had just finished our end-of-year exams, and, personally, I thought that they were horrid. It seemed Hermione didn't, though.
"I'd always heard Hogwarts en-of-year exams were frightful," she said, as the four of us were outside, enjoying the early summer breeze. "But I found them rather enjoyable."
"Speak for yourself," Weasley grumbled. Then, "Alright, there, Harry?"
I looked over at Potter to see him clutching his scar and wincing.
"My scar. It keeps burning," he replied.
"It happened before," Hermione said.
"Not like this," Potter assured her.
"Perhaps you should see Madame Pomfrey," I offered.
"I think it's a warning," was all Potter said. "It means danger's coming." Then he stopped dead. I followed his line of vision to see him staring straight towards Hagrid, who was playing the flute on his front steps.
"Oh," Potter whispered with an air of realization. "Of course."
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"Don't you think it's a bit odd," he answered, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets?"
I considered his idea. He wasn't wrong.
"Why didn't I see it before?" He asked himself in exasperation, and his speed picked up.
We ran the rest of the way down the hill, until we reached Hagrid.
"Hagrid," Potter gasped out. "Who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?"
Hagrid's brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he answered, "I dunno. Never saw his face. He kept his hood up."
"This stranger though," Potter pushed on. "You and he must have talked."
"Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after," Hagrid said thoughtfully. "I told him, I said, 'After Fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem.'"
"And did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Hermione asked.
"Well o' course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three-headed-dog, even if you're in the trade?" Hagrid asked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"But I told him, I said," he continued, "the trick with any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy for example. All you gotta do is play him a bit o' music, and he falls right to sleep."
The four of us looked at each other with terrified expressions.
"I shouldn't have told you that..." Hagrid registered. We all whipped around and began to run again, this time back to the castle.
"Where you goin'? Wait!" He called out after us, but we ignored him.
When we reached the castle, we continued down one of the main corridors, and then skidded to a stop in front of Professor McGonagall's currently empty classroom.
Potter didn't stop for a second, throwing himself at her desk.
"We have to see Professor Dumbledore," he gasped. "Immediately."
"I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here," Professor McGonagall answered with offended shock. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left instantly for London."
"He's gone? Now?" Potter said in disbelief. "But this is important!"
When Professor McGonagall's stern face only got sterner, I said hurriedly, "This is about the Sorcerer's Stone."
He face raised in incredulity. "How do you know-" she asked, but Potter cut her off rudely.
"Someone's going to try and steal it."
She looked between us for a minute before saying, "I don't know how you three found out about the stone, but I assure you, it is perfectly well-protected. Now, would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly."
Potter sighed in defeat, shook his head, and left. We followed him out, especially quiet, per Professor McGonagall's request.
Once we made it out to the corridor, Potter stopped us again. "That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village. It was Snape. Which means he knows how to get past Fluffy."
"And with Dumbledore gone-" Hermione tried to finish for him, but she was cut off by another voice, from above us.
"Good afternoon," someone drawled. We all knew that voice. I looked up and met Professor Snape's eyes. He sent me a questioning glance before turning to the other three.
"Now what would four young Gryffindors such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?" He asked.
"Uh- we... we were just..." Hermione said, stumbling over her words. Professor Snape raised his eyebrows, asking her to continue.
"You want to be careful," he said quietly. "People will think you're.... up to something." He gave me one last look before walking briskly down the corridor again, his cloak dramatically flying out behind him.
After a moment of silence Hermione whispered, "Now what do we do?"
"We go down the trap door," Potter whispered, his eyes still not leaving Professor Snape's retreating figure. "Tonight."
The entire dinner, all four of us were jittery and tense, not exactly looking forward to what was to come. We had a plan, but it was extremely risky and was more likely to fail than succeed.
When the common room finally went completely quiet, and the last Gryffindors tramped upstairs, Hermione and I quietly scurried up to Potter and Weasley's dorm. They met us in the hallway, and we all padded as quickly and soundlessly as possible down the stairs.
Potter stopped in front of us, his eyes landing on one of the armchairs. "Trevor," he whispered. Wasn't that Longbottom's toad?
"Shh, go!" Weasley hissed. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you," a boy's voice came, and then Longbottom's head poked out from the other side of the chair. I jumped stupendously.
"You're sneaking out again, aren't you," he asked.
"Now, Neville, listen," Potter said, trying to settle him down.
"No! I won't let you! You'll get Gryffindor in trouble again," Longbottom argued. I sighed. What did this boy really think he could do. "I- I'll fight you!" He said, holding out his fists.
"Don't you have a wand..." I muttered exasperatedly.
"Neville," Hermione said, not unkindly. "I'm really, really sorry about this." She pulled out her wand from her pocket, and waved it in the air once. "Petrifucus Totalus."
Longbottom's hands flew to his sides, and he fell to the ground, straight as a board, with an audible thud. Hermione twirled her wand in her fingers before putting it away again.
"You're a little scary sometimes, you know that?" Weasley asked shakily. "Brilliant, but scary."
"Let's go," Potter said firmly. We all mumbled a "sorry" as we passed Longbottom's furious, unmoving face on the floor.
Once we got to the third corridor, Potter pulled something out of his back pocket. It was a folded piece of material, still shimmering even in the nonexistent light.
"What is that?" I breathed. He just flung it over our heads.
"Invisibility Cloak," Weasley said for Hermione and I's confused expressions.
"You have an Invisibility Cloak?" Hermione exclaimed. "I've read about those!"
We creaked open the door and slipped through. We passed every last chilling statue, and even the torches didn't burst to life as we passed. It seemed the Cloak was doing its job. After what seemed like far shorter than last time, we appeared in front of the forbidden door.
Hermione stuck her wand arm out of the folds of the Cloak and whispered, "Alohomora."
We walked hesitantly through, only to hear a relaxing melody being played on an enchanted harp.
"No," I whispered. "Someone's beat us to it."
We walked closer, inch by inch. But it's ginormous paw was blocking the trap door.
"We have to move its paw," Potter said helpfully.
"What?" Weasley asked horridly.
"Come on!" Potter urged.
We all grabbed a part of the wrist and pushed. My legs wobbled, until, finally, we could open the latch on the floor. The beast only snorted once in his sleep, and used his other paw to scratch one of his noses halfheartedly.
Hermione lifted up the heavy wooden door.
"I'll go first," Potter said bravely. "Don't follow until I give you a sign. If something bad happens, get yourselves out."
"No, we're not just going to leave you," I argued, but he held a hand up to stop me.
"Does it seem a bit quiet to you?" He asked uneasily.
"The harp," Hermione realized. "It's stopped playing."
Weasley looked at his shoulder and groaned. "Ugh, yuck." It was covered in saliva, as well as his hand, which had just touched it. My brain registered just before a growl came from above us.
We all craned our necks up at the same time. Just as I suspected, three huge, furry heads hovered above ours, slobbering and sniffing. Hermione came to her senses first and screamed, "Jump!"
She disappeared into the darkness, just as the animal started barking ferociously. I followed her, grabbing hold of Potter's hand and pulling him down with me. Weasley came last.
We all landed on a bunch of odd, cushiony, black vines.
"Lucky this plant thing is here, really," Weasley observed.
I felt Potter's gaze on me, and tried to rip my hand away. But it wouldn't budge. I felt the slimly things creeping up my body and around my neck, trying to strangle me. Despite my pride, I squeezed Potter's hand in fear.
"All of you, relax," I heard Hermione's voice echo out. I would look at her, but my head was being held fast.
"This is Devil's Snare," she explained. "If you don't it will only kill you faster."
"Kill us faster?" Weasley yelled. "Oh, now I can relax."
She only grimaced at him, before her head disappeared.
"Hermione!" The three of us yelled. No response. I started to cry in frustration. The more I moved, the tighter the vines wrapped around me.
"Just relax!" Hermione's voice came from below us.
"Where are you?" Potter asked loudly.
"Just do as I say," was her response. "Trust me!"
I closed my eyes tightly and stopped resisting. I felt Potter do the same next to me. We both were pulled under.
"Harry!" Weasley screamed.
Potter and I landed hard on a stone floor, next to Hermione. Our hands were broken apart, and mine felt especially cold without his.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked us.
"Yeah," Potter replied, scrambling up.
"Fine," I grimaced, forcing myself up onto my feet.
Weasley's screams were still evident from above.
"He's not relaxing, is he?" Hermione asked.
"Apparently not," Potter agreed.
"We've got to do something!" She said.
"What?" I asked.
"I remember reading something in Herbology. Uh... Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... it's deadly fun..." she twisted her features in intense thought. "But will sulk in the sun! That's it!"
She whipped out her wand again and said, "Lumus Solem!" A blast of white-hot sunlight came out of the tip of her wand.
Weasley screamed again as the Devil's Snare released him, and he fell onto his side.
"Ron, you okay?" Potter asked worriedly.
"Yeah," He groaned. Once he was fully standing up, he put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Whew! Lucky we didn't panic!"
I shared a look with Potter, both of us trying to hold in our laughter. But he looked away almost immediately, embarrassed.
"Lucky Hermione pays attention in Herbology," Potter corrected him.
We were all silent for only a second before Hermione asked, "What was that?"
A strange sound was coming from a little ways away, like fluttering. "Sounds like wings," I said. I led the four of us to yet another wooden door, this one not happening to be locked. I pushed it open hesitantly, expecting to see another three-headed-something.
But I was astounded when I saw not one, but hundreds of birds, all glinting like they were made of gold.
"Curious," Hermione said quietly. "I've never seen birds like this."
"They're not birds," Potter said. "They're keys."
He was right. There were flocks of brass keys, quickly fluttering about our heads like little flies.
"And I'll bet one of them fits that door," he added.
I sighed. "How many mysterious doors can you fit in this place?"
We walked up to a singular broomstick, hovering slightly off the ground.
"What's this all about?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know," Potter whispered. "Strange," he said, running his hand over the stick.
From ahead, Weasley's voice was saying frustratedly, "Alohomora!" When he failed for the fourth time he said, "Well, it was worth a try."
Hermione groaned in frustration. "What are we going to do? There must be a thousand keys up there!"
"We'll need a big, old-fashioned one," I said. "Probably rusty, like the handle."
Potter pointed it out almost instantly. "There, I see it! The one with the broken wing!"
He really did have an eye for things that nobody else saw.
But he didn't get on the broom, instead just looked at it.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"It's too simple," he replied.
"Oh, go on, Harry!" Weasley said. "If Snape could catch it on that old broomstick, you can." When he still looked apprehensive, Weasley said, "You're the youngest Seeker in a century!"
Finally, Potter nodded. He grabbed the broom suddenly. For a second, all stayed the same. Then, the flurry of keys swooped down on him, poking at him and surrounding him. I backed away, trying to swat at them. They ignored me, and continued to torture Potter.
"This complicates things a bit," Weasley said.
We watched Potter, barely able to see in front of him for the wings in front of his face, twist up to the top of the high-ceilinged room. He grabbed the broken one and threw it down.
"Catch!" He yelled.
Hermione caught it, and shoved it into the keyhole. I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding when I heard the click of the lock opening.
The three of us shoved open the door, and Potter flew into the opening, still on his broom. Hermione and I slammed the door shut behind him, and I cringed at the sound of all the locks digging themselves into the other side of the wood.
Potter dismounted from his broom and caught his breath.
"This is a bit more than I think we bargained for," Weasley muttered.
We continued walking for quite some time, and just when I thought this one damp, dark hallway was never going to end, a spiked, double door came into view.
"Let's see if this one bites our fingers off," I said sarcastically.
Potter slowly advanced to the door, and let out a breath when nothing happened. We walked inside to slightly less darkness. There were dimly lit scones on the walls, and at first I thought there were more statues. Then I realized we were standing on a checkered board.
"I don't like this," Hermione whispered. "I don't like this at all."
"Are we in a graveyard?" Potter asked, clueless.
"This is no graveyard," Weasley gulped. He walked a little ways forward, staring at the menacing shapes. "It's a chessboard."
The second he had spoken the thought pout loud, the fire in the scones burned stronger. The shadows of the room disappeared, leaving us with some horrifying chess pieces and no idea how to get out of here. Although, I had a hunch. And I didn't like it.
"There's the door!" Potter said loudly, pointing to the opposite side of the board. But there were sixteen immovable figures of carved stone standing in our way. Still, we walked forward. Out of nowhere, the pawns drew out their swords, creating a barricade.
When we backed away, they placed the swords back at their sides.
"Now what do we do?" Potter asked.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Weasley responded. "We've got to play our way across the room." He faced the three of us.
"Alright, Harry, you take the empty bishop's square. Hermione, you'll be the Queen's side castle. Malfoy, you take the only other spot, the pawn."
We all went to our respected places.
"As for me," Weasley continued. "I'll be a knight."
"What happens now?" Hermione asked, like she didn't want to know the answer.
"Well, white moves first," Weasley offered. "And then... we have to play."
I don't think any of us were actually looking forward to that part.
One of the white pawns moved two spaces forwards. Still, nobody moved.
"Ron," Hermione asked shakily. "You don't suppose this is going to be like... real wizard's chess, do you?"
He paused in thought for a moment, and then straightened up. "You there, D-5!" He said to a pawn, pointing. The piece moved just as the first one had. The white took out both his swords and swung them at the black. The black shattered, shards of heavy stone flying everywhere.
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I was planning on working on my Transfiguration essay tonight, not killing myself.
"Yes, Hermione," Weasley said, horrified. "I think this is gonna be exactly like wizard chess."
For the next twenty minutes or so, all I could see was dust from the broken stone, and all I could hear was the echoing of polished stone fracturing in my ears. But every time one of the white pieces took out one of our black, Weasley did just the same.
I had to give him some credit, he wasn't half-bad.
Weasley was screaming things over the din, like, "Castle to E-4!" and "Pawn to C-3!"
When almost all the chess pieces on both sides of the board were disintegrated, the White Queen turned toward us questioningly.
Weasley didn't shout out a command. Potter's eyes widened in realization.
"Wait a minute..." he said.
"You understand, right, Harry?" Weasley asked. "Once I make my move, you're free to check the king."
"No. Ron, no!" Potter yelled dramatically. This was going to be an ordeal if I ever saw one.
"What is it?" Hermione asked hurriedly.
"He's going to sacrifice himself," Potter replied.
"No, you can't!" She yelled.
Despite myself, I added, "There must be another way."
"Do you wanna stop Snap from getting that stone or not?" Weasley asked the both of us. We stayed silent.
"Harry," Weasley said, turning back towards Potter. "It's you that has to go on. Not me, not Hermione, not Malfoy, you."
He nodded in grave response.
What would make this five times better was some sad music and a little slow motion.
Weasley heaved a sigh and said, "Knight to H-3." The horse he was placed upon moved as slowly as possible. "Check," he swallowed.
The Queen turned to him. She slid forward three squares, and instantly plunged her sword into Weasley's horse. He went flying off, and landed, unconscious, on the side of the board. Hermione made to go after him, but Potter smartly held out his hand.
"No, don't move. Don't forget, we're still playing."
Potter walked forward diagonally a few spaces. "Checkmate," he said loudly.
The Queen's sword dropped from her hands. Potter stood for a moment, making sure the game was completely over, before running to Weasley. Hermione and I followed close behind.
Kneeling down next to him, Potter looked up at us. "Both of you, take care of Ron. Then go to the Owlery. Send a message to Dumbledore."
"Potter, if you think we're going to let you walk into a room that the Dark Lord is in you must be out of your mind," I said.
"Ron's right," he said firmly. "I have to go on."
"You'll be okay, Harry?" Hermione reassured him. "You're a great wizard. You really are."
"Not as good as you," he responded.
"Me?" She laughed. "Books? Cleverness? There are more important things. Friendship, and bravery."
He smiled slightly, and began to stand up.
Before I could think over what I was doing, I got up as well and ran over to him, giving him a hug. I think I surprised both of us, but I didn't really care at the moment.
"Just be careful," I pleaded.
He nodded in response. I wrapped my arms around him quickly one more time and then dashed after Hermione, feeling his shocked gaze on my back, even after I had crouched down next to Weasley again.
When the retreating sound of his footsteps had disappeared, Hermione waved her wand and muttered something under her breath. Weasley began to cough weakly.
"I was certain that wasn't going to work," Hermione said to me, eyes wide.
After a second Weasley pushed himself up onto shaking arms.
"What did I miss?" He mumbled.
"Potter's gone," was all I replied with. His features creased with worry.
"Come on," Hermione said, holding out a hand to help him fully onto his feet. "We have to go send an owl to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."