Book: Courage
Chapter 12
Word Count: 6601
The days crept by as exam week appeared. Layla flew past most of her exams, yet she struggled a bit with Transfiguration. The others were a piece of cake for her.
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 had been 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 tapdance 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. Layla succeeded and her snuffbox didn't have whiskers, but it was rather unflattering and wasn't all that pretty. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.
Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out.
"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione 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."
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.
"No more studying," Ron sighed 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."
"Harry, if it's hurting you that badly, go to Madam Pomfrey," Layla suggested in a soft tone.
"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..."
"Harry, relax, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around," said Ron. "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 suddenly jumped to his feet.
"Where're you going?" asked Layla.
"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."
"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.
"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the 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, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.
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.
"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"
"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."
He saw the four of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.
"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head — that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."
"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid?" asked Layla, catching onto what Harry went down there in a rush for. "Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"
"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter 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..."
"And did he — did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked.
"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 goin'?"
Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.
"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak — it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. 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 to see him.
"We'll just have to—" Layla began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.
"What are you four doing inside?"
It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.
"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely.
"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"
"It's sort of secret," said Harry. Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared at his words.
"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?" said Harry 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," Layla chimed in, 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 didn't pick them up.
"How do you know—?" she spluttered.
"Professor, I think — I know — that Sn— that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. We've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore," said Harry.
"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," McGonagall said. "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. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."
But they didn't.
"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the 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."
"But what can we—"
Layla suddenly gasped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione wheeled round.
Snape was standing there.
"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.
They stared at him.
"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.
"We were—" Layla began, without any idea what she 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?"
They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.
"Be warned, Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."
He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.
Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.
"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, you'd better do that."
"Why me?"
"It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, "'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong.'"
"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.
"And we'd guys better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Layla and Ron. "Come on."
But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.
"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own house!"
Harry and Ron went back to the common room, Layla had just said, "At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.
"I'm sorry, guys!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."
"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said. "I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."
"You're mad!" said Ron.
"You can't!" said Layla with a frown.
"After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!" Hermione pointed out.
"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? D'you think he'll leave you and 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 you three say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"
"You're right Harry. I'm sorry," sighed Layla. "But you're not going alone. I'm coming with you."
"Me, too," said Hermione, and Ron nodded.
"And me."
"But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too."
"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."
After dinner the four of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Layla's knee was bouncing up and down uncontrollably and she anxiously raked her fingers through her brown hair, using her free hand to stroke a comfortable Peaches who was cuddling up beside her. 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.
"Better get the invisibility cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He ran back down to the common room soon after.
"We'd better put the cloak on here and hope that's it big enough to cover all four of us, and — if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own—"
"What are you doing?" said 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 making another bid for freedom.
"Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back.
Neville stared at their guilty faces.
"You're going out again," he said.
"No, no, no," said Layla. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"
Layla 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," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."
"You don't understand," said Harry, "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!"
"Neville," Ron exploded, "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. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."
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 Layla and Hermione.
"One of you do something," he said desperately.
Hermione stepped forward.
"Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."
She raised her wand.
"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville.
Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.
Layla gasped, feeling bad for Neville who just wanted to show he was brave. She ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.
"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.
"It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably.
"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry," whispered Layla.
"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry.
"You'll understand later, Neville," said Ron as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak. It was a tight squeeze with four people. Ron kept standing on Hermione's foot and Layla's was pushed so tightly against Harry's chest that she could feel his warm breath hit the back of her neck.
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.
As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.
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. "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."
"Peeves," Harry suddenly said, in a hoarse whisper, "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 greasily. "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," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."
"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again . "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."
And he scooted off.
"Good thinking, Harry!" whispered Layla.
A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor — and the door was already ajar.
"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."
Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all four of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to the other three.
"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."
"We're not going anywhere, Harry," said Layla stubbornly. "Like I said, you're not doing this alone.
Harry shot a smile in Layla's direction, just as Ron pushed the door open.
As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.
"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.
"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Snape must have left it there."
"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Harry. "Well, here goes..."
He put the flute that Hagrid had made him 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 it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.
"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could 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 Layla, peering over the dog's back. "I can go first if no one else wants to," she offered, noticing how nervous the other three looked.
She stepped carefully over the dog's legs. She bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.
"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.
"Nothing — just black — there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."
Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Layla to get her attention and pointed at himself.
"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Layla. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. You can give the flute to me so I can keep him asleep."
Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Layla began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.
Harry lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at the others and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"
"Right," said Ron.
"See you in a minute, I hope..."
And Harry let go. After much too long, Ron, Layla, and Hermione heard Harry call, "it's okay! It's a soft landing, you can jump!"
All three of them relaxed. Ron jumped after him, and Hermione turned to Layla.
"I'll see you in a few seconds," she whispered to Layla nervously, then sat on the edge of the trapdoor and fell through, leaving Layla by herself, still playing the flute to keep Fluffy asleep.
"Come on, Layla!" Ron called. Layla stopped playing and Fluffy began to wake up. The large dog noticed Layla sat on the edge of the trapdoor and barked loudly at her. Jumping, startled, Layla quickly fell through the trapdoor.
Cold, damp air rushed past her as she fell down, down, down and — FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump she landed on something soft. She sat up and felt around, her eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though she was sitting on some sort of plant, and she could barely make out the figures of her friends through the darkness.
"We must be miles under the school," said Layla.
"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ron.
"Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. "Look at you all!"
Layla finally realised what plant she was sat on. It was Devil's Snare, and it was starting to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. She leant up, struggling against the plant to get to the far wall. Hermione was also trying to jump up to get away from the plant. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.
Layla had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her, rushing over to help Hermione before the plant to fully get her, too. But it was too late to help Harry and Ron.
Now Layla and Hermione watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.
"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "It's Devil's Snare!"
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.
"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione.
"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.
Layla wracked her brain for the spell. She wasn't all that strong in Herbology, but she did still pay attention in the class. She remembered Professor Sprout saying that the spell had to include warmth? Light? FIRE!
"Hermione!" shrieked Layla once she remembered the spell. "We need to light a fire! Devil's Snare likes the dark and the damp, like Professor Sprout said!"
"Yes, of course!" cheered Hermione, thankful that Layla had remembered since she couldn't. "But there's no wood!"
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"
"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of bluebell flames at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the two boys felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.
"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Lay," said Harry as he joined her and Hermione by the wall, wiping sweat off his face.
"Yeah," said Ron with a smile directed at Layla, and then shot a glare in Hermione's direction, "and lucky Layla doesn't lose her head in a crisis — 'there's no wood,' honestly."
"Leave her be, Ron. She was panicking," scolded Layla, shooting a 'shut up' look in Ron's direction.
"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.
All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Layla was reminded of Gringotts.
"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.
Layla listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.
"Do you think it's a ghost?"
"I don't know... sounds like wings to me."
"There's light ahead — I can see something moving."
They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright 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," said Layla. "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," Harry volunteered, covering his face with his arms, and he sprinted across the room. Nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.
The other three followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried to use the Alohomora charm.
"Now what?" said Ron.
"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.
They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering — glittering?
"They're not birds!" Layla said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys — look carefully. So that must mean..." she looked around the chamber while the other three squinted up at the flock of keys. "...yes — look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"
"But there are hundreds of them!"
Ron examined the lock on the door.
"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one — 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 dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.
"That one!" Harry called to the others. "That big one — there — no, there — with bright blue wings — the feathers are all crumpled on one side."
Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.
"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above — Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down — Layla, you hang around the side in case it darts in another direction, and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"
Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, the key dodged them both, Layla tried to grab it when it darted past her but her fingertips just about grazed it from how fast the key was moving, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, right past Harry, and Layla leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand.
"Got it!" cried Layla, grabbing the key and handing it to Harry, who flew over to her.
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 other three, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.
The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.
They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Layla, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly — the towering white chessmen had no faces.
"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."
Behind the white pieces they could see another door.
"How?" said Layla nervously.
"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."
He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.
"Do we — er — have to join you to get across?"
The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two.
"This wants thinking about," he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces..."
Harry, Layla, and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but Harry and Hermione, you two are not that good at chess. Layla is a pretty fair competitor, even though she only beat me once out of our four games we've had, but you two aren't the best."
"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."
"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop. Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle. Layla, you take the place of the other bishop."
"What about you?" asked Layla.
"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.
The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, two bishops, and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione took.
"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes... look..."
A white pawn had moved forward two squares.
Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Layla's knees were trembling. What if they lost?
"Layla — move diagonally four squares to the right."
Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.
"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."
Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry, Layla, and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.
"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think — let me think..."
The white queen turned her blank face toward him.
"Yes..." said Ron softly, "It's the only way... I've got to be taken."
"NO!" Harry, Layla, and Hermione all shouted.
"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me — that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"
"But—"
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"
"Ron—"
"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"
There was no alternative.
"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go — now, don't hang around once you've won."
He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor — Layla screamed in worry but stayed on her square — the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.
Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left.
The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry, Layla, and Hermione charged up to the door and up the next passageway.
"Hermione, you should stay here with Ron. Take the flute, use Wingardium Leviosa to lift Ron up and out the trapdoor, and get him to the hospital wing," instructed Harry, handing the flute to Hermione. "Make sure he's alright. Layla and I can handle it from here."
"Oh, alright," said Hermione, not even arguing. She was more than happy to get Ron help. Hermione hugged Layla, smiled reassuringly at Harry, and then hurried over to Ron.
Layla and Harry exchanged nervous looks and then walked up the next passageway together.
"What if he's—?"
"He'll be all right," said Harry reassuringly. "What do you reckon's next?"
"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's."
They had reached another door.
"All right?" Harry whispered.
"Go on."
Harry pushed it open.
A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.
"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."
Layla stepped forward first and pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next — but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.
"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"
They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.
"Look!" Layla seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. She read it aloud:
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
Layla let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling.
"Brilliant," said Layla. "This isn't magic — it's logic — a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."
"But so will we, won't we?"
"Of course not," said Layla. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."
"But how do we know which to drink?"
"Give me a minute."
Layla read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands.
"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire — toward the Stone."
Harry looked at the tiny bottle.
"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."
They looked at each other.
"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"
Layla pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.
"You drink that," said Harry.
"Harry, I don't want you doing this alo--"
"No, listen, get back and find Ron and Hermione. They should be by the Devil's Snare by now. Grab brooms from the flying key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy — Hermione's taking Ron to the Hospital Wing so you need to go 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, really."
"But Harry — what if You-Know-Who's with him?"
"Well — I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."
Layla frowned sadly, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.
"Harry — you're a great wizard, you know."
"I'm not as good as you or Hermione," said Harry, faint pink tinge appearing on his cheeks, as she let go of him.
"Hermione? Yes, but me? No." said Hermione. "There are more important things than cleverness — friendship and bravery and... just please be careful, Harry. Please."
"I will. I promise," said Harry softly. "You drink first. You are sure which is which, aren't you?"
"Positive," said Layla. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered.
"It's not poison?" said Harry anxiously.
"No — but it's like ice."
"Quick, go, before it wears off."
"Good luck, Harry. Be safe."
Layla then turned and walked straight through the purple fire. She expected to get incinerated, but sighed in relief when she didn't, and before she knew it, she was back with the troll.
Layla ran past the troll, past the broken chess pieces, and eventually located the broomsticks lay to the side in the flying key room. She mounted one, and then gripped two others for Ron and Hermione if they hadn't already made it out.
Riding out through all of the rooms, Layla eventually reached the Devil's Snare, just in time to see Ron and Hermione wriggling out of it after lighting flames through Hermione's wand.
"Guys!" called Layla as she hovered over them on the broom.
"Layla! Where's Harry?" questioned Hermione.
Layla quickly told them what had happened. With every word, Ron's face fell further and further and Hermione was looking paler and paler.
"Ron, if you're sure you're okay now, you guys can come to the owlery with me," said Layla. "As quickly as possible."
She tossed the other two brooms that she'd brought over to Ron and Hermione. Both of them mounted the brooms and they skyrocketed high, up and up through the trap door. Fluffy was wide awake but the large dog barely not two barks in, attempting to bite off the back of Ron's broom, but the three of them managed to soar past Fluffy, unscathed, and back onto the third floor corridor safely, getting off their brooms.
Ron, Layla, and Hermione were quick to hurry down the corridor to the owlery. Layla was just glad that both Ron and Hermione were alright, but it just gave her more time to worry about Harry, praying that he wasn't hurt.
They had reached the entrance hall, about to run past it to the owlery, when the door of the hall opened and in came Professor Dumbledore. Layla had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
"Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" Dumbledore said calmly. Ron, Layla, and Hermione all shakily nodded. Without another word, Dumbledore walked off faster than anyone his age should be able to.
"He'll be fine," whispered Ron, turning to the two girls. "Dumbledore will save him."
Hermione nodded shakily once again, but Layla couldn't help but feel anxious. She was very, very worried for Harry.