The next room was barely lit, a sharp contrast to the one prior, before torches surrounding a massive chess board blazed to life.
Ahead of the group was two rows of pitch black chess pieces that towered over them, the white pieces across the board. It was eerie, the pieces had no faces.
"Now what do we do?" Harry asked softly, clearly irked by the frightening scene before them.
"It's obvious, isn't it? We've got to play out way across the room," Ron replied, squinting slightly.
Amisty peered over Harry's arms, catching sight of the door on the other side.
"How?" Hermione whispered, her voice lathered in nervousness.
"I think we're going to have to be chessmen," He took a step forward and pressed his hand to a black knight's horse.
Almost instantly the horse took to life, pawing the ground with it's stone hoof as the knight turned to look at Ron.
"Do we -- er -- have to join you to get across?" He stumbled over his words slightly.
The knight nodded noiselessly.
"This needs thinking about... I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces..." He said thoughtfully.
Amisty nearly whined out to protest before realizing that she would be of no help with her injury.
Best let Harry continue to carry her for now.
"Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess--" He started awkwardly.
"We're not offended. Just tell us what to do," Harry interrupted, anxious to get out of the unsettling room.
"Well, Harry, you take the place of the bishop, and Hermione, you go there instead of the castle," Ron pointed as he spoke, the pieces slowly drifting off to the side without a sound.
"What about you?" Hermione asked.
"I'm going to be a knight," He replied simply.
They walked into the now open spaces on the board, taking in the sight of the looming white chess pieces.
Amisty looked up at them warily, her tail wrapping around her legs protectively.
"White always plays first in chess. Yes... look..." Ron explained, watching as a white pawn slid up two squares.
A sense of unease washed over the she-wolf as the redhead started to direct their own pieces.
Each move was deadly silent. Harry was quivering slightly and she looked up at him, her fear reflected back at her through his green-eyes.
"Harry -- move diagonally four squares to the right," Ron ordered. Harry gulped, following his directions shakily.
Her fear only doubled when their second knight was taken. The white queen threw him to the ground, a long crack running down his side, before lugging him off the board.
He was shockingly still, facedown.
"Had to let that happen. Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on," Ron clarified, his voice weak.
One after the other, they lost their men, the white pieces not holding back on their rampage. But the game remained even as Ron jumped around the board, taking as many of the opposing team's pieces as they had to theirs.
"We're nearly there. Let me think -- let me think," Ron murmured.
Slowly, the white queen's head swiveled to look at him, her haunting blank face seeming mocking even though it lacked emotion.
"Yes... it's the only way... I've got to be taken," He whispered.
"NO!" Harry and Hermione yelled in unison.
Amisty let out a strangled bark, squirming around in Harry's grasp.
"That's chess! You've got to make some sacrifices!" He snarled sharply, managing to conceal his fear well. "I'll make my move and she'll take me -- that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"
"But -- " Harry protested.
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?" He snapped back.
"Ron --" He tried again.
"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!" He replied.
Harry stopped talking, clamping his mouth shut, tightening his hold on the struggling wolf in his arms.
Amisty whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Ready?" Here I go -- now, don't hang around once you've won," Ron's voice reached her ears and a sickening thump soon followed.
Hermione let out a piercing scream. She desperately tried to block out her ears.
Slowly, she felt Harry take three steps and the sound of something hitting the ground. Opening her eyes hesitantly, she watched as the chessmen moved away from the center, leaving a small pathway to the door.
"Amisty, I don't want you to go any further with your paw in that state. Stay here with Ron, make sure he's alright," Harry whispered, kneeling down and placing her on the ground.
She nursed her paw slightly, only letting her claws graze the hard stone floor. Nodding with a lump in her throat, she limped off the chessboard and toward the, hopefully, knocked out boy.
With wide eyes, she watched as Harry and Hermione raced through the door, disappearing into the shadows.
Dread a stone in her heart, she struggled closer, pressing her nose to Ron's wrist to check for a pulse.
A shudder of relief passed through her as she felt the faint beating of his heart, he wasn't dead after all.
A groan left his mouth and he stirred slightly. Hope flared in her chest and she yipped softly, not wanting to disturb the haunting chess pieces behind them.
Gently, she pawed at his arm, trying desperately to wake him further. Soon enough, she realized her attempts were in vain, and instead sat down with her paw yet again hovering about the ground.
The silence around her was suffocating, and she almost barked just to break it up when she caught the sound of footsteps.
Getting to her paws, she squinted into the darkness, watching as Hermione's form slowly became clearer and clearer.
"AMISTY!" She called, her eyes wide and panicked.
She howled back, signaling to the girl to where she was.
Ron shifted yet again, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to open his eyes. Hermione knelt down at their side's, pulling out her wand and turning to face Amisty.
"I'm going to turn you back, okay? I can't carry you and ride a broom," She explained hurriedly. "Lupus Estaria!"
Her shift went much faster than before and the second she felt her knees touch the ground she shook Ron's shoulders, ignoring the pain in her palm.
So her injuries did transfer with her forms.
"Ron, wake up. Please, wake up," She repeated desperately, her movements steadily becoming more and more frantic.
Like a miracle his eyes shot open before flooding with confusion.
"Where's Harry?" He asked weakly, his face turning pale.
"No, no!" Hermione replied, almost as if she were reassuring herself. "He went ahead alone, we need to get Dumbledore."
"What are we waiting for then, let's go!" Ron replied, shooting to his feet and running to the door they had entered in what felt like hours before, though his hand did gravitate to his forehead for a few sparse moments.
The girls followed, blinking as their eyes struggled to adjust to the blinding light in the key room. Ron handed the two broomsticks before grabbing his own and they sprinted toward the exit.
The Devil's Snare curled it's vines out toward them, but it had been too slow. They mounted their brooms and kicked off, soaring past its dangerous tendrils and Fluffy.
Amisty bit her lip to distract herself from the pain in her hand, without her fur their there wasn't much keeping the blood from flowing. Some of it had already dried, leaving crusty pieces on her skin.
Throwing their brooms down on the floor, they ran to the owlery. Ron stumbled slightly, and the girls flanked him on either side.
Panting and sweating, they scaled the steps, coming out to the top of the tower with a shared sigh of relief.
"Here, I'll write it," Hermione gasped out, grabbing a quill and parchment from the side and quickly scribbling down a note.
"Hedwig!" Amisty called out, scanning the cages for the snowy owl.
A soft hoot tipped her off and she whirled around. With her uninjured hand she slid open the lock and the owl flew and landed right beside Hermione, her golden eyes glowing with hidden knowledge.
It was as if she knew Harry was in danger. With one last flourish of her quill, Hermione rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg tightly.
She hooted softly before taking off out the window. Ron held his head, still recovering from the queen's blow.
"Amisty," He groaned, "your hand."
She glanced down at it, confused, and nearly fainted at the sight. The blood had covered her hand in crimson, leaving the scratch bright red and inflamed.
It still dripped from the wound, leaving little red spots on the floor. She had been ignoring the pain, but now that she had transferred her attention onto it again it was almost unbearable.
She clutched it to her chest, trying to stop the bleeding and hissing through her teeth as she tried to suppress her cries.
"We need to get you both to Madame Pomfrey, now," Hermione took a good look at the two of them before grabbing their wrists and leading them down the steps to the direction of the healing wing.
The halls were dimly lit by the torches hanging from the cold stone walls, the only sound the scuffling of their feet. They reached the healing wing in record time, barely having to knock on the door before it opened, revealing a wideawake Madame Pomfrey.
"Come, Hermione, take Ron to that bed over there," She ordered calmly, not fazed at their disheveled appearance. "Amisty, you know where to go."
They nodded, following her directions. Ron, with Hermione's support, trudged over to the gurney Madame Pomfrey had gestured to.
"Help Ron first, I can manage," She looked up at the elder witch, the families stubborn glint in her green eyes.
"Amisty-" Ron protested.
"I'll be fine," She replied swiftly. Madame Pomfrey just nodded, knowing there was no way she could change her mind.
She laid back on the bed, feeling the mattress sink slightly under her weight. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion passed over her and she felt her eyelids flutter.
"Rest, Amisty, I'll tend to you in a moment," Madame Pomfrey's voice was muffled as she drifted closer to the realm of sleep.
She managed a small nod before her eyes closed completely, leaving her in darkness.
-=+=-
When she awoke, one glance at her hand told her she had been healed over night. There was only a faint trace of white, the only evidence of a scar.
"I'm glad to see your awake," Madame Pomfrey walked into her field of view, a glass of water in her hand.
Amisty took a longer look around the room, her gaze falling on an asleep Harry.
"Is he alright?" She asked worriedly, sitting up and glad to see that there was no pain when she leaned against her palm.
"He's perfectly healthy, we just have to wait until he wakes," The nurse replied, pressing the glass into her hands.
She took it thankfully, draining it within seconds after realizing how dry her throat had become.
"Once you're ready you can leave. Your friends left last night, they didn't wish to wake you," Madame Pomfrey explained, taking the glass back from her.
"Thank you. Do you need any help before I go?" She asked, swinging her legs over the side of the gurney.
"I think you'll create more harm than help knowing you and your reckless tendencies," The witch replied, the faint tug of a smile at the edge of her lips.
"Point taken," Amisty laughed lightly, getting down and walking to the exit. Her gaze remained on Harry for a second before she waved goodbye and stepped into the hallway.
A rush of happiness ran through her veins, and as she walked back to the Gryffindor common room there was a new spring in her step.
Until she came face to face with him.