(68) Door and Chess

"Listen… what's that sound?"

Cassandra, with her sharp hearing, was the first to notice something strange.

The group immediately fell silent, listening carefully to the noise lingering in the air.

"It sounds like…" Hermione frowned, straining to hear.

"Wings flapping?" she guessed, uncertain.

"Only one way to find out."

Ian shrugged and pushed the next door open, stepping into the second chamber.

Inside, countless small creatures darted through the air.

At first glance, they seemed like birds—but upon closer inspection, it became clear that they were actually keys, flitting around the room in chaotic, unpredictable patterns.

"You can only move forward," Ian observed, glancing at the open passage behind them, then at the locked door on the opposite side.

Ron, still recovering from his humiliating experience with the Devil's Snare, saw his chance to redeem himself.

Stepping confidently toward the door, he pulled out his wand and aimed it at the lock.

"Alohomora!"

"..."

Nothing happened.

The door didn't even so much as budge.

Ron awkwardly scratched his head.

"Uh…" He cleared his throat. "I just… wanted to try."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

"This door has multiple layers of protection spells. The Unlocking Charm won't work," Ian concluded after inspecting the intricate enchantments woven into the lock.

Draco, looking up at the swarm of keys, gulped.

"So… how exactly are we supposed to get through?" Cassandra was worried.

Ian folded his arms, leaning back against the wall, tapping his foot in a steady rhythm.

After a brief moment of consideration, he pulled out his wand.

"Accio! The key that unlocks this door!"

His Summoning Charm shot toward the airborne keys—but absolutely nothing happened.

Not a single key moved toward him.

Ian stared at his empty hand.

Well, that's just rude.

"The Summoning Charm isn't working," Ian muttered, lowering his wand.

His eyes landed on two brooms propped against the far wall.

"Looks like we'll have to fly up and grab it manually."

"So… we need to find the right key among all these and fit it into the keyhole?" Harry asked.

"That's right." Ian nodded.

"This is the second challenge."

Ron stared up at the swarm of keys, his face twisting in despair.

"There's got to be a thousand of them!" he groaned. "How the hell are we supposed to find one specific key in all that?"

Cassandra walked to the door, carefully examining the lock.

"This door looks ancient," she observed. "There's rust on the lock, so the key must be old-fashioned—probably worn and rusty too."

"Look! There!"

Harry suddenly pointed toward the ceiling.

"The one flying up high! I see it!"

Hermione frowned, scanning the fluttering keys.

"You'll have to fly to get it," she noted, "and that's not going to be easy."

For a brief moment, all five of them turned to look at Ian.

Ian sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead.

"Why are you all looking at me?" he grumbled. "I'm not a Seeker. **Harry, Draco—**you two are! Grab a broom and get it."

He really wasn't surprised.

Ever since the troublemaking trio evolved into the chaos-causing six, it seemed like this level had been conveniently 'adjusted' just for them.

Tsk. Old Dumbledore is really too thorough with this whole setup.

After Ian's order, Harry and Draco hesitated, glancing at each other.

"What's wrong now?" Ron clapped both of them on the shoulders.

"Don't worry!" he said, grinning.

"Even Snape, who's old and half-blind can manage catching that key. You two—the youngest Seekers in a hundred years—should be fine."

Snape, somewhere in the castle: …Excuse me?

Harry and Draco exchanged a look, nodded, and each mounted their brooms.

The moment they took off, the entire swarm of keys suddenly shifted direction—rushing at them like a furious storm.

"Bloody hell!" Draco yelped, swerving to dodge the metallic projectiles.

Harry, equally startled, weaved between the darting keys, eyes locked on one particular target.

"There!" he shouted. "I see it!"

Draco narrowed his eyes, spotting it too.

"Yeah, but it's bloody fast!"

The old-fashioned, rusty key zipped through the air like a Golden Snitch, weaving through the chaos.

Harry and Draco pushed forward, chasing after it.

Draco took on the role of clearing the path, knocking aside other keys to give Harry a clean shot.

With a final burst of speed, Harry lunged forward and grabbed the key.

"Got it!"

Without wasting a second, he hurled it down with all his strength.

"Ian! Catch!"

Ian jumped up, snatched the key mid-air, and bolted for the door.

"Hurry, Ian!" Ron shouted anxiously, his eyes flicking between the airborne chaos and the two Seekers still dodging attacks.

Ian jammed the key into the lock.

As the door creaked open, he yelled upward:

"Harry! Draco! Move it!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled the two little witches and kicked Ron by the way, and entered the safe area.

Harry and Draco also followed with a dive and flew into the door.

Ian seized the opportunity and closed the door at the moment when the two flew in. There was a crash behind the door.

"That was terrible." Draco stared at the pile of keys embedded in the door, still shaken.

Harry, panting, nodded in agreement.

"Are you two okay?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"We're fine."

Harry and Draco shook their heads simultaneously, still catching their breath.

Ian, meanwhile, was already eyeing the dark passage ahead.

"No time to rest," he said, striding forward.

"Let's keep moving. Who knows what the next challenge is."

The six of them walked down the narrow passage, turning a sharp corner—and stepping into the third chamber.

The darkness immediately unsettled Cassandra.

She gripped Ian's hand tightly, wrinkling her nose.

"I don't like this place."

"Is this… a cemetery?" Hermione murmured, eyeing the massive stone statues scattered around the room.

"No!"

Ron suddenly perked up, his eyes scanning the layout of the room.

"It's a giant chessboard."

The moment he finished speaking, the room's torches suddenly flared to life, casting long shadows over the intricately carved chess pieces.

The illuminated chamber revealed a massive board, its pieces standing tall and imposing.

At the far end, a closed door stood firmly blocked by towering chess pieces.

Harry immediately pointed to it.

"There's the exit! Let's go—"

Before he could take a step forward, Ian simply stood still, watching him with an amused expression.

As soon as Harry approached the chessboard, the nearest set of pieces suddenly shifted—the pawn-like soldiers drawing their double-edged blades into attack positions.

Harry froze.

Ian let out a long-suffering sigh before smacking him lightly on the back of the head.

"Did you leave your brain back in the second challenge?" Ian quipped.

"Do you really think we can just walk through?"

Harry rubbed his head, looking sheepish.

Draco, meanwhile, glanced at the chessboard, his expression wary.

"So… what do we do?"

He hesitated, then glanced over his shoulder.

"Because I really, really don't want to go back and fight that key swarm again."

"Oh… I think we have to actually play through this game to reach the door."

Ron swallowed hard, his face pale.

Ian crossed his arms, watching the board thoughtfully.

"This one's on you, Ron." He shrugged. "I know absolutely nothing about chess."

For once, Ron's brain kicked into gear.

He quickly assessed the board, then nodded.

"We have to take the place of the missing pieces and finish the match."

Ron pointed toward the far end of the board, where the exit door stood firmly shut.

"As long as we reach the end, we should be able to pass."

Ron glanced around, then began assigning roles.

"Harry, stand there—on the opposite grid."

"Ian, you…"

Ron continued placing everyone strategically, while he himself climbed onto the knight's piece, taking its role.

"Alright."

Ron took a deep breath, looking at the white chess pieces on the opposite side of the board.

"The game begins."

Draco, already looking pale, turned to Ron with a panicked expression.

"Wait… wait… we're not actually playing real wizard chess, are we?"

Ron didn't answer immediately, instead directing the first move.

"Pawn to D5."

A black pawn obeyed, sliding into position.

For a brief moment, nothing happened—

Then, the white pawn on the opposite side suddenly drew its double blades and struck with terrifying precision.

With a single, brutal slash, the black pawn was shattered into pieces, falling lifelessly to the board as dust rose around it.

Ron visibly gulped.

Draco, staring at the broken piece, swayed slightly.

"Ron… I think you were right." His voice wavered.

Ron forced himself to take a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists.

"Yeah." His voice came out strained.

"This is definitely real wizard chess."

The group exchanged glances, the gravity of the situation settling in.

On this board, it was either win… or lose everything.

Ron straightened up, scanning the board like a seasoned general.

"Alright." His voice was firm now.

"Let's win this."

Under Ronald's command, several pawns began to move one after another.

"Bishop, go to C3."

"Rook, go to E4."

"Pawn, go to B5."

The chessboard seemed to have become a real battlefield. Every move was full of danger. No matter whether it was the white side or the black side, as long as they stood on the opposite side, the chess pieces would draw their weapons without hesitation and attack.

At this time, Ron looked very different from usual. He was observing the chessboard attentively, like a general commanding a war.

Under Ron's command, many white and black chess pieces fell, and the battle reached its peak.

The chess pieces on both sides grew fewer and fewer, while broken pieces littered the board.

Finally, after the white king struck down a black chess piece, the field suddenly became silent.

________

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