Through the Trapdoor

If you were to ask either Harry or Cheyenne, even years later, how they had managed to get through their exams with the threat of Voldemort's return looming over their heads, neither would have had a clue. And yet the days continued to creep by, leaving neither any doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind his locked door. 

The week of their finals was miserably hot, though the classroom where they sat for their written tests was on another level. They weren't all too bad, though, even with the special quills bewitched with an Anti-cheating spell they were each handed. 

Their practical exams were another story. While Professor Flitwick had each of them come into his class one at a time to make a pineapple tap-dance across his desk, Professor McGonagall graded them on their ability to turn a mouse into a snuffbox – they each earned points for how pretty it was, but lost points if it had whiskers. Snape's exam was the hardest; how could it not be when he was practically breathing down their necks while they tried to brew a Forgetfulness potion by memory? 

Harry and Cheyenne navigated through their exams as best they could, trying to ignore the headaches that now seemed to come and go since their trip into the forest. At one point, Neville thought perhaps they just had a bad case of exam nerves since neither of them had been sleeping well, but the truth was both kept being woken up by an old nightmare; this one, however, was worse than before, as it now included a hooded figure dripping blood. 

Since the start of their exams, neither Ron nor Hermione seemed as worried about the Stone, not as much as Harry or Cheyenne anyway. They could probably contribute it to what their friends had missed in the forest, or perhaps the fact that they didn't have any scars that left them with throbbing headaches. While the idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, neither Ron nor Hermione had him visiting them in their dreams, and they were so engrossed in their studies they didn't have any time left to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to. 

Their last exam was History of Magic, which consisted of an hour of answering questions about the batty old wizards who invented self-stirring cauldrons, and then they'd be free, with nothing to worry about for an entire week until their results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns announced it was time to put down their quills and roll up their parchments, neither Harry nor Cheyenne could help but cheer with the others. 

"That was easier than I'd originally thought," Hermione said as they joined the crowds hurrying out onto the sunny grounds, "We hadn't even needed to remember about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager." 

Hermione always liked to go over their schoolwork after they were done, but Ron said they needed a break and the quartet wandered down to the lake, where they sank into the shade of the nearest tree. From where they sat, they could see the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan playing with the giant squid, who had come up from the depths of the lake to bask in the warm shallows. Cheyenne smiled weakly and waved to Fred when he caught her eye, earning a brilliant grin in reply while Ron stretched out in the grass next to her, sighing contently. 

"You two could look a bit happier." Ron said, glancing at Harry and Cheyenne as she leaned back into the tree, closing her eyes with a grimace when that all too familiar throb began in her temples, again. "C'mon, we've got a whole week before we find out just how badly we did, so there's no need to worry yet." 

Harry frowned, rubbing his forehead. 

"I wish we knew what this meant!" He groaned, "Our scars keep bothering us – it's happened a few times, but never as often as this..." 

"You could go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested gently. 

"That's the thing, we aren't sick..." Cheyenne sighed, opening her eyes again, "It feels like a warning or something...like danger's just around the corner..." 

Ron, however, couldn't bring himself to get worked up about it, it was too hot. 

"C'mon, you two, relax. Remember what 'mione said: the Stone's safe so long as Dumbledore's around. Besides, we never had any proof that Snape found a way past Fluffy. Look at what happened the last time he tried: he almost lost a leg! If I were him, I wouldn't risk something like that again in a hurry. And I bet Neville'll play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down." 

Harry and Cheyenne nodded, though this feeling like they'd forgotten something still lingered, nagging at the back of their minds. When Harry brought this up, Hermione shook her head, "It's probably just the exams. Last night, I woke Chey up and we were halfway through our Transfiguration notes when we finally remembered we'd already done that one." 

Harry frowned, not entirely convinced, however, as he let his gaze trail off toward the clear blue sky overhead. An owl fluttered past them and toward the castle, a letter clamped tight in its beak. Hagrid had been the only one who'd ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore by telling anyone how to get past Fluffy...unless... 

Harry suddenly grabbed Cheyenne's hand, hauling her to her feet with him. 

"Where are you going?" Ron asked drowsily, lifting his head. 

"I've just thought of something," Harry said, going white as Cheyenne glanced at him, confused, "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now." 

"Why?" Hermione asked, bewildered, as she scrambled to her feet. 

"Don't any of you think it a bit odd," Harry said, leading the way up the grassy slope, "how the one thing Hagrid wants more than anything else drops into his lap thanks to a stranger who just so happened to have it in their pocket? If carrying dragon eggs around is against wizard law, how many people do you reckon would do it? Quite lucky they came across Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't we see this before?" 

"What are you on about?" Ron asked, breathless, but Harry didn't answer as he took off at a sprint toward the forest, pulling Cheyenne, now wide-eyed at the revelation, along with him. 

Hagrid was seated in an armchair outside his house when they arrived, his trousers and sleeves rolled up past his elbows and knees while he shelled peas into a large bowl. 

"Hullo," he smiled when he spotted the quartet, "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?" 

"Yes, please," Ron started to say when Harry cut him off. 

"No, sorry, Hagrid, we're in a bit of a hurry, we've just got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? Do you remember what the stranger you were playing cards with looked like?" 

Hagrid hummed and scratched his chin thoughtfully before shaking his head, "No, he wouldn't take his cloak off." 

He watched as the friends exchanged an anxious look and raised his eyebrows. 

"It ain't that unusual, after all, yeh get a lot o' funny folks in the Hog's Head – that's the pub down in Hogsmeade. He mighta bin a dragon dealer, eh? I just never saw his face since he kept his hood up." 

Harry sank to his knees next to the bowl of peas while Cheyenne gripped his hand tight in hers, "What did the two of you talk about that night, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts to him?" 

"Hm, it mighta come up," Hagrid hummed, frowning, as he tried to remember, "Yeah...he asked me what I did an' I told him I worked as gamekeeper here...then he asked 'bout the typa creatures I looked after, so I told him...an' I mentioned I'd always really wanted a dragon...an' then..." he rubbed his head and sighed, "Can' remember too well after that, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks, but lemme try...he said he had a dragon egg an' that we could play cards fer it...but he wanted ter be sure I could handle it, said he couldn't give it to just anyone...so I told 'im, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..." 

Harry and Cheyenne exchanged a look before turning back to the giant, "Did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice even. 

"Well, o' course he was interested in Fluffy, how often d'yeh come across a three-headed dog, especially at Hogwarts? So, I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down. All yeh gotta do is play him a bit o' music and he'll fall right ter sleep -" 

Hagrid froze, his eyes widening in horror. 

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" He shook his head, turning back to the four, "Just forget I said any – hey, where're yeh goin'?!" 

Neither Harry, Cheyenne, Ron, or Hermione said anything until they reached the entrance hall, which seemed cold and gloomy in comparison to the sunny grounds outside. 

"We have to go to Dumbledore!" Cheyenne breathed, terrified, "I bet you anything the stranger under that cloak was either Snape or Voldemort – it must have been easy to pry the trick to get past Fluffy out of Hagrid once he was drunk." 

"Let's just hope Dumbledore believes us." Harry nodded, glancing back toward the forest, "Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't interfere. Now, where's Dumbledore's office?" 

They all looked around, as though thinking they'd find some kind of sign pointing them in the right direction. None of them had ever been told where Dumbledore lived, nor had they been to his office directly...they couldn't even think of anyone in the moment who could have been sent to see him of late. 

Cheyenne bit her lip, "Maybe we should ask -" She started to say when a stern voice called out to them from across the hall. 

"And what are you four doing inside?" 

Professor McGonagall came marching up to them, carrying a large pile of books. 

"We need to see Professor Dumbledore." Hermione told her without hesitation, surprising the others. 

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall quirked a brow and eyed them suspiciously, "Why?" 

Harry and Cheyenne glanced at one another, unsure how to answer. 

"It's, erm, sort of a secret," he said, though he immediately wished he hadn't spoken as Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. 

"Professor Dumbledore departed for the Ministry of Magic ten minutes ago," she told them coldly, "He's just received an urgent owl informing him he was needed in London at once." 

"He's gone?" Harry asked, frantic, "Now?" 

"Professor Dumbledore is a very important wizard, Potter, he has many important things on his hands -" 

"But Professor McGonagall, this is important." Cheyenne implored her to see reason. 

"Much more important than the Ministry of Magic, Power?" 

"Look," Harry's mouth set, deciding he might as well throw caution to the wind, "Professor, this is about the Sorcerer's Stone -" 

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected them to say, that was not it. She immediately dropped the books she was carrying, her eyes wide. 

"How do you know -?" She spluttered, confounded. 

"Professor," Harry continued as Cheyenne bent to gather the fallen books, "We think – no, we know – that Sn -" He bit his tongue and quickly corrected himself, " - we know that someone is going to try and steal the Stone. We must talk to Professor Dumbledore, immediately." 

Professor McGonagall was silent for a moment, eyeing Harry as she gathered her thoughts. 

"Professor Dumbledore will return tomorrow," She finally said, "I don't know how you four found out about the Stone, but I can assure you that it is well protected. No one will be able to steal it." 

"But Professor -" 

"I know what I'm talking about, Potter," She cut him off as Cheyenne straightened, holding the stack out. Professor McGonagall took the books from her with a curt nod, "Now, I suggest you four go back outside and enjoy this beautiful, sunny day." 

However, instead of heeding her words, they waited until she'd gone and huddled in close, "It's tonight," Harry whispered, even once Professor McGonagall was out of earshot, "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight...now that he knows how to get past all the safeguards and Dumbledore's out of the way. I'll bet he sent that note; no doubt Dumbledore's arrival at the Ministry's going to be a real shock." 

"But what are we -" 

Hermione gasped, making Harry, Ron, and Cheyenne spin around to find Snape standing behind them. 

"Good afternoon," he said in a slow, smooth voice. They could only stare as he quirked a brow, "Students shouldn't be inside on a day like this." He said with an odd smile. 

"We were, uh -" Harry trailed off, unsure what to say. 

"You'll want to be more careful," Snape said, eyeing each of them in turn, "Hanging around like this, people will begin to think you're..." His gaze lingered on Harry longer than the others, "Up to something...and we all know Gryffindor can't afford to lose any more points than they already have." 

Harry flushed, but Cheyenne's hand tightened in his as she gently pulled him back toward the doors. Snape's voice stopped them. 

"I warn you now, Potter – If I catch you during one of your nighttime strolls, I will personally ensure you are expelled." His eyes flashed with his promise before he turned, "Good day." And with that, he strode off in the direction of the staffroom, his cloak bellowing behind him. 

Out on the front steps, Harry turned to the others. 

"Right, so here's what we have to do," he whispered urgently, "One or two of us will have to keep an eye on Snape – wait outside the staff room and follow him. Hermione, Chey, you two would be the best to do that." 

"Why us?" Hermione frowned. 

"Isn't that obvious?" Ron said, "You two could pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." he pitched his voice a little higher, "Oh Professor, we're just so worried, we think we might've gotten one of the questions on the test wrong -" 

"Oh, shut up," Hermione growled while Cheyenne stifled a smile and shook her head. 

"Okay, we'll do it. You two just try to stay out of trouble." She said before she grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her back inside. 

"How long do you think we'll have to follow Snape?" Hermione asked as they ascended the marble staircase. 

"Dunno," Cheyenne shook her head, "But we'll just have to watch him closely...maybe what we can do is follow him until dinner, then meet up with the boys again...we'll need to be ready to move when he heads for the third floor." 

"Easier said than done." Hermione sighed, "If he or one of the other teachers sees us -" 

"We have the Invisibility Cloak again, remember? We'll just have to have Harry -" As the two turned the corner, they froze when they nearly ran into the man they'd just been talking about. 

Snape, one brow quirked, crossed his arms as the two stared back at him, wide-eyed, "And what are you girls up to now?" 

"W-we were just coming to see P-Professor Flitwick, sir." Cheyenne winced at her stutter, hoping it wouldn't give them away. "Right, Hermione?" 

Hermione nodded her agreement, clearing her throat, "Right! We wanted to talk a little about our Charms exam." 

Snape eyed the pair suspiciously for a good, long moment, his dark eyes narrowed, and Cheyenne did her best not to fidget under his intense gaze. He shouldn't be able to see through their lie...right? 

"Very well." Snape drawled, turning back toward the staff room, "You two wait here and I will retrieve him for you." 

"T-thank you, sir." Cheyenne gave him what she hoped was a grateful smile before he swept back up the corridor and disappeared through the staffroom door. As soon as he was out of sight, she and Hermione booked it out of there as fast as they could. 

"What'll we do now?!" Hermione moaned when they were several floors up; Cheyenne bit her lip, anxious, already having a feeling she knew the route Harry would want to take from here. 

"We need to go find Harry and Ron first," She concluded, "C'mon, let's head back to Gryffindor tower." 

To neither Cheyenne nor Hermione's surprise, they found the boys already waiting for them beyond the portrait of the Fat Lady. 

"Sorry, Harry!" Hermione looked down, ashamed, "Chey and I ran into Snape on our way to the staff room and when he asked what we were doing, we said we were waiting for Flitwick..." 

"We had to make a break for it when he went to get him..." Cheyenne sighed, rubbing her neck, "We don't know where Snape went after that..." 

Harry frowned, "Well, that's it, isn't it?" 

Ron and Hermione stared, confused, while Cheyenne pursed her lips, understanding the glimmer in her best friend's eyes. 

"Yeah...we'll need to go and try to get to the Stone before Snape." 

"You're both mad!" Ron gasped. 

"You can't!" Hermione's eyes were wide, "If you two are caught by McGonagall or Snape, you'll both be expelled!" 

"SO WHAT?!" Harry shouted, heated, "Don't either of you understand? If Snape gets his hands on the Stone, then it gives Voldemort the chance to return! Remember the stories about what it was like when he was gaining power? If he comes back, there will be no more Hogwarts!" 

"Harry's right...if Voldemort comes back, Hogwarts is as good as gone, or worse: made into a school for the Dark Arts." Cheyenne shook her head solemnly, "Winning the house cup won't keep us or our families safe. If Harry and I were to get caught, he'd just come find us in Surrey, probably even kill the Dursleys and nan while he's at it!" 

"It's just dying later than we would've anyway, since neither of us plan on going to the Dark Side!" Harry looked at Cheyenne, who nodded, firm, "Either way, we're going through that trapdoor tonight and there's nothing either of you can say that's going to stop us! Voldemort killed our parents, remember?" 

Harry glared at Ron and Hermione, as though daring them to argue. 

"You're right...you both are..." Hermione muttered in a small voice. 

"We can use the Invisibility Cloak," Cheyenne pointed out, "Luckily it's been returned to you." 

"But will it cover all four of us?" Ron interjected, bringing the pair up short as they turned to stare at him. 

"All...all four of us?" Harry blinked. 

"Oh, come off it, Harry, neither of you thought we'd let you go on your own, did you?" 

"Of course not," Hermione added briskly, "How do either of you think you'll get to the Stone without us? Chey, we should look through our books for something that could help us..." She pointed out to Cheyenne, who's eyebrows pinched. 

"You're not worried about being expelled...? If we get caught -" 

"We won't be, if I have anything to say about it," Hermione's mouth set stubbornly, "Flitwick caught me after our exam, said I got a hundred and twelve percent. They aren't going to throw me out after that." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

After dinner, the group sat apart in the common room. Not many people bothered them; outside Wood, Lee Jordan, or the Weasley twins, none of the other Gryffindors had anything to say to either Harry or Cheyenne. Tonight was the first that it didn't bother them. Hermione and Cheyenne skimmed through their notes, going over all enchantments that sounded plausible beneath that trapdoor, discussing among themselves how to break them. Harry and Ron were silent as they sat by the window, staring in opposite directions as they thought about what they needed to do. 

The room around them emptied slowly as the hours ticked by and people drifted off to bed. 

"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered to Harry, who eyed Fred as he kissed Cheyenne goodnight and disappeared up the spiral staircase. Harry waited a second to be sure he wouldn't run into the older boy before he ran upstairs to the dark dormitory. He returned a moment later with the cloak tucked under his arm. 

"We should put that on now." Cheyenne said, tucking her notes into her robes as she and Hermione stood, "We'll want to make sure it covers all four of us properly, least Filch sees our feet wandering around by themselves -" 

"What are you doing?" A quiet voice from the corner made the four jump and whip around to find the source. Neville stepped out from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor, who looked as though he'd been making another escape attempt. 

"Oh nothing, Neville, we're not doing anything. Are we?" Cheyenne turned to the others as Harry hurriedly hid the cloak behind his back. He and Ron shook their heads as Neville eyed them warily. 

"You're going out again," he said after a short pause. 

"No, we aren't," Hermione shook her head, trying to smile reassuringly, "There's nothing for you to worry about, Neville, so why don't you head on up to bed?" 

Harry glanced at the grandfather cloak by the portrait hole, knowing they couldn't waste too much time; Snape was likely lulling Fluffy to sleep as they spoke. 

"You can't go," Neville said with a frown, "you'll get caught, then Gryffindor will be in even deeper trouble." 

"You don't understand," Harry sighed, deciding to just bite the bullet, "There's something important we need to do." 

Neville, however, set his jaw, steeling himself, "I won't let you do it!" he said, moving to get between them and the portrait hole, "I-I'll fight you if I have to!" 

"Neville," Ron shook his head, "Don't be an idiot -" 

"Don't you call me an idiot!" Neville snapped back, "I don't think any of you should break any more rules! Besides, you were the one who told me to stand up to people!" 

"This is different, Neville..." Cheyenne put a hand on Ron's shoulder to stop him from saying something he'd regret, "Look, we don't have time to explain, but believe us, this concerns everyone." 

She took a step toward him, but Neville dropped Trevor and raised his fists while the toad leapt out of sight. 

"Go ahead, try and hit me!" Neville said while Harry pulled Cheyenne back, "I'm ready!" 

"Neville..." Cheyenne frowned while Harry turned to Hermione, begging for her to do something. Hermione nodded and stepped forward instead. 

"Neville, I'm really very sorry about this." She said as she pulled out her wand, "Petrificus Totalus!" She pointed it at Neville. 

Neville's arms immediately snapped to his sides and his legs bound together while his whole body went as rigid as a board. He swayed for a second before falling flat on his face. 

Cheyenne immediately hurried to his side while Hermione stowed her wand and joined her to help turn Neville over. Neville's jaws had been jammed shut, so he couldn't speak. His eyes were the only things that could move now as they darted between the two of them in horror. 

"What've you done?" Harry whispered. 

"He's okay," Cheyenne reassured as she and Hermione moved Neville somewhere he wouldn't be trodden on, "It's the full Body-Bind spell..." 

"I'm so sorry, Neville..." Hermione said, blinking back tears. 

"We had to, Neville," Harry sighed, helping Cheyenne to her feet before they pulled the Invisibility Cloak on, "No time to explain." 

"You'll understand later, Neville," Ron said as he and Hermione joined Harry and Cheyenne under the cloak, and the four of them set out. 

Leaving Neville lying motionless in the common room, however, didn't feel like a very good sign of what was to come. Amid their anxiety, every shadow they passed looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them from above. At the first set of stairs they came across, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top. 

"Oh c'mon, let me kick her, just this once." Ron whispered to Harry, who shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris watched them with her big, lamplike eyes, but didn't do anything further. 

They wouldn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase leading up to the third floor, where Peeves bobbed halfway up, loosening the carpet to make people trip. 

"Who's there?" he asked as they climbed toward him. His wicked black eyes narrowed, "Though I can't see you, I know you're there. Are you ghoulie, ghostie, or wee student beastie?" 

He rose up and floated above them, squinting. 

"Should call Filch, I should, if somethin's a-creeping around unseen." 

A sudden idea struck Harry. 

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible." 

At this, Peeves nearly fell out of the air from shock, but caught himself at the last second and instead hovered about a foot off the stairs. 

"I am so sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he answered greasily, "It was my mistake – I did not see you – well, of course not, you're invisible – forgive old Peevsie for his little joke, sir." 

"I have business here, Peeves," Harry croaked, "Steer clear of this place for tonight." 

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," Peeves agreed, rising into the air once more, "I hope your business goes well, Baron. I will not disturb you." 

And with that, he disappeared down a side corridor. 

"Brilliant work, Harry!" Ron whispered. 

A few seconds later, they paused outside the door to the third-floor corridor, which already stood ajar. 

"Looks like Snape's already got past Fluffy," Cheyenne whispered. 

The sight of the open door somehow seemed to impress upon the four of them the gravity of what they were about to face. Beneath the cloak, Harry took Cheyenne's hand and turned to the other two. 

"If either of you want to turn back, we understand," he said, and Cheyenne nodded in agreement. 

"Harry's right...take the cloak, we won't need it anymore." 

"Don't be daft," Ron shook his head. 

"We're coming with you," Hermione said. 

With that, Harry pushed the door open. 

A high-pitched creak filled the room, followed by a trio of low, rumbling growls. All three of the dog's noses twitched in their direction, though it couldn't see them. 

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered, spotting something in the corner. 

"Looks like a harp," Ron said, tilting his head to see the ornate instrument more easily, "Snape must have used it to put Fluffy to sleep." 

"He must wake up the moment you stop playing," Harry murmured, "Well, here goes..." 

Harry took Hagrid's flute from his pocket and put it to his lips. While what he played wasn't really a tune, the dog's eyes immediately began to droop; Harry didn't stop, even after the beast's growls ceased – it swayed on its paws, then fell to its knees, before finally slumping to the ground, fast asleep. 

"Keep playing," Ron whispered to Harry as they threw the cloak off and crept carefully toward the trapdoor. The dog's hot breath fanned across them as they moved past their giant heads. "We should be able to pull the door open now," Ron said, peering around the dog, "Do you want to go first, Hermione?" 

"No, I do not!" 

"Oh, I'll go first, if it's that big a deal!" Cheyenne sighed, stepping carefully over the dog's legs. Pausing to make sure it wouldn't move, she bent to grab the ring of the trapdoor and pulled. It stuck, just for a moment, before swinging up and open. 

"Do you see anything?" Hermione asked, anxious. 

"No, nothing -" Cheyenne frowned, peering down into the darkness below, "It's all black, and I don't think there's a way to climb down, so we'll just have to jump." 

Harry, still playing the flute, waved to get Cheyenne's attention and pointed to himself. 

"You want to go in first? Are you sure?" She furrowed her brows as she looked back down, "I can't see how deep it goes...but, if you plan on going, give the flute to Hermione to keep Fluffy asleep." 

Harry handed the flute over; in the few seconds of silence that followed, the dog twitched and gave a low growl, which petered off as soon as Hermione began to play. 

Climbing carefully past the dog, Harry paused beside Cheyenne to peer down into the trapdoor and frowned. 

"Careful, Harry," Cheyenne whispered as he lowered himself through the hole until he hung by just his fingertips. Then, he turned back to Cheyenne and Ron, who had followed him over, "If anything happens to me, none of you follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig or Hermes to Dumbledore, okay?" 

"But..." 

"Cheyenne," Harry gave her a hard look and she bit her lip. 

"We'll get right on it," Ron reassured him. 

"See you guys in a minute...I hope..." 

And with that, Harry let go, disappearing into the darkness. The seconds dragged as they waited for a sign that they could follow, and Cheyenne began to fidget with her locket. 

"It's okay!" Harry's distant voice made her exhale in relief, "it's a soft landing, so you can jump!" 

"I'll go next," Cheyenne muttered to Ron, "I'll call you once I land." 

Ron nodded and Cheyenne launched herself through the trapdoor; cold, damp air rushed up to meet her as she fell, blowing her hair back out of her face. Before long, she landed with a funny, muffled thump on something soft and she sat up to look around, feeling like whatever they'd landed on was some kind of plant. 

"You okay, Chey?" Harry asked from her left. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," She reassured, glancing around to get her bearings while Harry called for Ron, the light of the trapdoor now no bigger than a postage stamp. "But what have we -?" 

As soon as Cheyenne got a good look at what they were sitting on, she scrambled toward the nearest wall. 

"Chey, what's wrong?!" Harry called as Ron landed where she'd just been sitting. 

"What is this stuff?" he asked, looking around. 

"Dunno, some kind of plant, probably here to break our fall. Come on, Hermione!" 

"Don't!" Cheyenne yelled as the distant music stopped. Fluffy gave a loud bark, but Hermione had already jumped, landing on Harry's other side. 

"We must be miles under the school..." she said. 

"Lucky this plant's here to break out fall," Ron said. 

"I wouldn't call this lucky, look at yourselves!" Cheyenne said; Hermione, realizing what she meant, leapt to her feet and struggled toward the wall next to her while the plant tried to twist long, snakelike tendrils around her ankles. By the time the boys realized what had happened, though, their legs had already been bound by a pair of long, twisting feelers. 

Both Cheyenne and Hermione had managed to free themselves before the plant could get a good grip on them, though now they had to watch in horror as the boys fought to free themselves. The more they struggled, however, the tighter and faster the plant wound itself around them. 

"You both need to stop moving!" Cheyenne told them firmly, "This isn't any old plant – it's Devil's Snare!" 

"Oh, so grateful for that bit of information, it's a great help," Ron snapped as he leaned backward, trying to stop the plant from curling up his neck. 

"How do we kill it?!" Hermione asked Cheyenne, frantic. 

"Hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling to keep the plant from coiling around his chest. 

"What was that rhythm Professor Sprout told us again?" Cheyenne groaned, trying to think back on that lesson, "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare...it's deadly fun..." 

"But will sulk in the sun!" Hermione finished for her. Cheyenne snapped her fingers, "That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight!" 

"So, start a fire!" Harry choked. 

"Yes, of course," Hermione looked around with wide eyes, "There's no wood!" 

"No wood?! Are we witches or not?!" Cheyenne exclaimed, pulling out her wand. Hermione immediately followed her lead and the two pointed their wands at the plant, sending out twin jets of the same bluebell flames Hermione had used on Snape. Within seconds, the plant released the two boys as it cringed away from the light and warmth, allowing them room to wriggle free. 

"Lucky you two pay attention in Herbology," Harry panted as they joined the girls at the wall, wiping at his face. 

"Yeah, and it's lucky Chey doesn't lose her head in a crisis," Ron shook his head, "'there's no wood,' honestly!" 

"This way," Harry whispered, nodding to a long stone passage, which seemed their only way forward. 

The only sound apart from their footsteps was the gentle trickle of water as it slithered down the walls. The passage gradually sloped downward, reminding Harry and Cheyenne greatly of Gringotts, and, with an uncomfortable lurk in her stomach, Cheyenne wondered vaguely if they'd run into a dragon somewhere along the way. Dealing with Norbert had been bad enough, so they could only imagine how much worse meeting a full-grown dragon would be. 

"Do you guys hear something?" Ron whispered. 

Harry and Cheyenne paused to listen; up ahead, they could pick up a soft rustling, clinking sound. 

"Do you think it's a ghost?" 

"Sounds like...wings..." Cheyenne murmured. 

"That's a light ahead," Hermione said, squinting, "I think I see something moving." 

At the end of the passageway, they emerged into a large, brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arched high above them. It was full of a flock of small, jewel-bright birds that fluttered and tumbled aimlessly around the room. On the opposite wall was a heavy wooden door. 

"Do you think they'll attack if we cross the room?" Ron asked, eyeing the creatures uneasily. 

"Probably," Harry frowned, "They don't look very vicious, but if they all swooped down at once...suppose we have no other choice...I'll run." 

With a deep breath, Harry covered his head with his arms and sprinted across the room. Cheyenne, Ron and Hermione watched with bated breath, waiting anxiously to see if the flock would swoop down at once, but they barely moved, and Harry reached the door unscathed. He pulled at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. 

The other three joined him, helping in tugging and heaving at the door, but it was locked tight. Not even Hermione's Alohomora charm could open it. 

"Now what do we do?" Ron frowned. 

"These birds...they have to be here for a reason..." Hermione muttered as the four of them looked around, watching the light glitter off – wait...? 

"They aren't birds!" Cheyenne's eyes widened, "They're winged keys – look at them carefully." 

Harry squinted thoughtfully, "If they're keys, that must mean..." He swept his gaze along the walls while the other three searched the flock of keys, "Yes, look there! Broomsticks! We have to catch the key to the door!" 

"But there are hundreds of them!" 

Ron examined the lock on the door. 

"We'll need to look for a big, old-fashioned key – probably silver, like the handle." 

They each seized a broomstick and kicked off from the ground, soaring up amidst the flock. They grabbed and snatched, but the keys darted and dove so quickly, they were nearly impossible to catch. 

Harry and Cheyenne weren't the youngest Seeker or Helper in a century for nothing, though, as they had a knack for spotting things others couldn't. After about a minute of weaving through a whirl of rainbow feathers, Cheyenne spotted a large silver key with a bent wing, as though it'd already been caught once and stuffed roughly into the keyhole. 

"There!" She called, pointing to the key, "It's that big one there, with bright blue wings – the one with the feathers all crumpled on one side." 

Ron sped in the direction Cheyenne was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and almost fell off his broom. 

"We'll have to surround it on all sides!" Harry said, his eyes trained on the key now, too, "Ron, you come from above – Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down – Chey, stay on it's right and I'll try to catch it. Right, NOW!" 

Ron dove and Hermione rocketed upward while Cheyenne closed in on it from the right; it dodged Ron and Hermione, flinting left, between Harry and the wall, where he pinned it against the stone with a nasty, crunching sound. Ron, Hermione, and Cheyenne cheered, their voices echoing in the large chamber. 

They landed immediately and Harry ran for the door, holding the struggling key tight in his hands. He rammed it in, and the lock clicked open – Harry released the key, which took flight once more, looking even more battered now that it'd been caught a second time. 

"Ready?" Harry glanced back at the others with his hand on the door handle; they nodded, and he pulled the door open. 

The next chamber was pitch black, though as soon as they stepped through the doorway, a bright light flooded the room to reveal they were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard. They stood behind the black chessmen, which stood taller than them and looked to have been carved from black stone. Across the board, on the other side of the chamber, stood the white pieces. Harry, Cheyenne, Ron, and Hermione swallowed, unnerved at how none of the white chessmen had faces. 

"What do we do now?" Harry whispered. 

"That's obvious, isn't it?" Ron said with a determined frown, "We'll have to play our way across the room." He nodded to another door just beyond the white pieces. 

"How?" Hermione asked, anxious. 

"I think..." Ron frowned, "we have to be the chessmen." 

He walked up to a black knight and put a hand out to touch its' horse. It immediately sprang to life; while the horse pawed the ground, the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron. 

"Do we – erm – have to join the game to get across?" The black knight nodded. Ron nodded and turned back to the others. 

"I need to think about this..." he said, "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces..." 

Neither Harry, Cheyenne, nor Hermione said anything, watching as Ron considered their options. After a moment, he said, "Now, don't get offended or anything, but none of you are very good at chess -" 

"We aren't offended Ron," Cheyenne smiled, reassuring, "Just tell us what we need to do, and we'll do it." 

"Right," Ron nodded, grateful, "Harry, you'll take the place of that bishop. Cheyenne, you take the place of that castle next to him. Hermione, you take the other castle." 

"What're you going to do?" 

"I'll be a knight," Ron said. 

The chessmen appeared to have been listening, as a knight, bishop, and both castles turned their backs on the white pieces and strode off the board, leaving four empty squares for Harry, Cheyenne, Ron and Hermione. 

"White always goes first in chess," Ron said, watching their opponents, "Yes, look..." 

A white pawn had moved up two squares. The game had begun. 

Ron began directing the black pieces, which followed his commands without question. Cheyenne fidgeted with her locket again, wondering if they'd have to start all over if they lost. 

"Harry, move diagonally four squares to the right." 

They received quite a shock when their other knight was taken, as the white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him from the board, leaving him lying off to the side, facedown. 

"I had to let that happen," Ron said, shaken, "It leaves you free to take their bishop, Hermione. Go on." 

The white pieces showed no mercy when they took one of Ron's men. It wasn't long before a huddle of limp black players was slumped against the wall. Twice, Ron noticed at the last second that Harry, Hermione, and Cheyenne were in danger, while he darted around the board with ease, taking almost as many white pieces as they'd lost black. 

"Almost there," he muttered to himself, "Let me think..." 

The white queen slowly turned her blank face toward him. 

"Yes..." Ron said quietly, "I've got to be taken, it's the only way." 

"No, Ron!" Harry and Hermione shouted as Cheyenne's eyes widened. 

"That's chess!" Ron snapped, "You have to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me, which leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!" 

"But -" 

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?" 

"Ron -" 

"Look, we don't have time to argue about this, Harry, if we don't hurry, he'll already have the Stone!" 

Harry glanced at Cheyenne, who frowned empathetically, knowing there was no other way. 

"Ready?" Ron asked, his face pale, but set, "All right, here I go – make sure not to hang around once you've won." 

He stepped forward and the white queen pounced; she struck Ron across the face with her stone arm, sending him crashing to the floor – Hermione screamed, and Cheyenne covered her mouth, blinking back tears, but neither of them moved from their squares – and the white queen dragged Ron to the side. He looked like he'd been knocked out. 

Harry shook as he moved three spaces to the left and peered up at the white king, who took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. They'd won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the path ahead clear. Casting Ron one last look over their shoulders, Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway. 

"Do you think he's -?" 

"He'll be okay," Harry said, trying to convince himself as much as her or Cheyenne, "What do you reckon's next?" 

"We got through Sprout's Devil's Snare," Cheyenne pointed out. 

"Flitwick must've charmed the keys," Hermione continued. 

"And McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to bring them to life; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's." 

They reached another door. 

"Ready?" Harry asked the girls, who nodded, and he pushed the door open. 

A plume of something foul smelling hit them full in the face, making their eyes water, and they hurriedly pulled their robes up over their noses. On the floor they found a troll, somehow larger than the one they'd faced on Halloween, knocked out cold with a bloody lump on its head. 

"Glad we didn't have to face this one," Harry whispered as they moved carefully past it, "C'mon, I can't breathe." 

They hurried through the next door, none of them daring to look at what waited next, though they were surprised to find nothing more than a table holding a line of differently shaped bottles. 

"Snape's," Harry said, "What do we have to do with this one?" 

As they stepped through the door, a wall of flame sprang up behind them, though it was not an ordinary fire. This one was purple. At the same time, black flames blocked their way forward. They were trapped. 

"Look!" Hermione said as she seized a roll of paper sat next to the bottles. Harry and Cheyenne peered over her shoulders to read with her: 

Danger lies ahead, while safety lies behind, 

Two of us are allies, that is if you could find, 

One of us seven will help you move ahead, 

While the other will allow you to go back instead, 

Two of us are only nettle wine, 

Three of us will kill you, waiting hidden in line. 

Choose, unless your wish is to stay here forevermore, 

To help you choose, we'll give these clues four: 

First, however slyly the poison may hide 

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; 

Second, different are those standing on either end, 

But if you were to move onward, neither are your friend; 

Third, as you can see clearly, all are different sized, 

Neither dwarf nor giant hold death as their insides; 

Fourth, the second left and the second right 

Are twins once tasted, though different at first sight. 

Cheyenne straightened as Hermione heaved a sigh, surprising Harry when he saw they were both smiling. 

"This is brilliant." Hermione said, "It isn't magic, it's logic, a puzzle." 

"In the Muggle sense, at least, which few of the greatest wizards have." Cheyenne agreed with a nod, "They'd have likely been stuck here forever." 

"But we will be, too, won't we?" 

"Of course not," Hermione shook her head, "Look, everything we need is written on this paper." 

"Hermione's right, if you just take a minute to read it," Cheyenne pointed to the paper, "There are seven bottles; three are poison; two are wine; one can get us safely through the black fire, and the last one can get us back through the purple." 

"But how do we know which to drink?" 

"Just give us a minute." Hermione said before she and Cheyenne bent over the paper once more, murmuring to one another for a moment. Once finished, they strolled up and down the line of bottles, mentally crossing off which ones wouldn't help. Once they were sure of their choice, they looked at one another and nodded. 

"We've got it," Hermione said, "The smallest bottle is the one we need to get to the Stone." 

Harry looked at the tiny bottle. 

"It looks like there's only enough for two of us," he said, "There's hardly wo swallows." 

The three looked at each other. 

"Which one gets you back through the purple fire?" Harry asked and Hermione pointed to a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. 

"You two drink that," Harry said, holding up a hand as Cheyenne opened her mouth, "Listen, you need to get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room to get out through the trapdoor and past Fluffy – once you're out, go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig or Hermes to Dumbledore. We need him back right away. I might be able to hold Snape off for a short while, but I'm no match for him..." 

"Not by yourself," Cheyenne frowned, shaking her head when he frowned at her, "Listen Harry, I told you I'm following you through this to the end and I intend to. Besides, it's best for two of us to be there, we can help hold Snape off as a team while Hermione and Ron go get Dumbledore." 

"Chey..." Harry sighed, giving her an exasperated look. 

"She's right, Harry, you'll need all the help you can get...besides, what if You-Know-Who's waiting with Snape?" 

Harry glanced between the two girls, furrowing his brows before Cheyenne took his hand, "We survived him together once..." She indicated the scars on her cheek with a smile, "We can do it again." 

He glanced at her scars, then met her gaze again before he sighed and nodded. Hermione's lip trembled and, without warning, she dashed forward to throw her arms around the two of them. 

"Hermione?" They both blinked. 

"Harry, Chey...you're both great, you know that?" 

"Not as good as you..." Harry was blushing by the time Hermione pulled away while Cheyenne offered her a gentle smile. 

"There's more important things than books and cleverness," Hermione sniffed, "You both have showed me that – oh please be careful!" 

Harry and Cheyenne gave her a couple of reassuring smiles, "You drink first," Harry prompted, "You're both sure you know which is which?" 

"Positive," Cheyenne squeezed Hermione's hand before she grabbed the round bottle and took a drink, shivering. 

"Hermione?" Harry asked, anxious. 

"I'm okay," She reassured, setting the bottle back down, "It just feels like ice." 

Harry sighed, relieved, "Good, now go, before it wears off." 

"Good luck, you two - take care." 

"Go on," Cheyenne urged her gently. Hermione nodded to the two of them and turned, disappearing through the purple flames. Then, Cheyenne grabbed the small bottle from the table. 

"Ready?" She turned to Harry, who took a deep breath and nodded. She uncorked the bottle as they turned toward the black flames. "Here we go." She took a sip of the potion before handing it to Harry, who drained the rest in one gulp. 

It did indeed feel like ice was sliding down their throats and flooding through their bodies. Returning the bottle to the table, Harry took Cheyenne's hand and the two crossed to the other end of the room; they braced themselves as they stepped through the flames, though they couldn't feel them. For a moment, they saw nothing but a wall of fire before they stepped out on the other side, into the final chamber. 

There was already someone there, but, to their surprise, it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.