Moving Forward

Cough, cough—!

Ron fell to the ground, gasping for breath, his fingers still instinctively clawing at the vines that were no longer there.

Harry staggered forward and fell, his glasses crooked on his face, but he looked at Hermione first. "That was brilliant!"

Hermione's hands trembled slightly. The spell in the crystal vial had vanished. She watched as the vines retreated into the cracks in the stone walls at an astonishing speed, leaving scorched marks across the floor.

Sagreles pursed his lips at the sight and muttered, "Lucky bastard."

"Good thing you paid attention in class, Hermione. You're amazing." Harry clearly didn't think it was luck. He gave Hermione a thumbs-up while constantly wiping the sweat from his face.

"That wasn't my spell. My spell was nowhere near that powerful..." Hermione said, looking embarrassed.

"I know," Ron said. "You bottled that during Professor Greengrass's class, didn't you?"

"Yes." The young witch nodded. "It's hard to stay calm in a crisis. I'm sorry, just now I..."

"Hermione!" Harry cut her off. "You just saved us."

Ron nodded repeatedly as well. "You did great, Hermione. But that spell was used up, right? The one in your bottle."

"That's right, so we have to keep going." Hermione nodded.

They passed through the dark cavern tunnel, and the view suddenly opened up before them—a brightly lit circular hall lay ahead. Countless small objects with metallic gleams fluttered and circled beneath the towering vaulted ceiling, like a rain of jewels.

"Wait..." Harry narrowed his eyes, suddenly realizing something. "Those aren't birds! They're keys—keys with wings!"

He pointed at a bronze key, clearly seeing the cold gleam reflected from its teeth.

Hermione quickly scanned their surroundings. "Obviously, this is a puzzle... Ah!" She pointed at a pile of broomsticks in the corner. "We need to catch the right key!"

Ron had already run to the carved wooden door to study its keyhole. "We're probably looking for an old-fashioned large key, silver, maybe something like this—"

He gestured in the shape of the door handle.

The three of them quickly mounted their brooms and took off. The swarm of keys immediately stirred, hundreds of them scattering like startled bees.

Harry darted nimbly through the metallic storm. His Quidditch Seeker instincts quickly locked onto his target—a large silver key with its left wing drooping unnaturally, flying far more sluggishly than the others.

"I see it!"

Harry dove toward the target. Ron and Hermione immediately understood, flanking it from either side and clearing a path for Harry.

The key seemed to sense the danger and suddenly veered upward. Harry yanked his broom into a steep climb, then flipped neatly upside down just inches beneath the vaulted ceiling, his right hand accurately snatching the struggling key.

"Nicely done!" Ron cheered. The key flapped unwillingly in Harry's hand until it was inserted into the lock and turned with a crisp click.

Sagreles, hidden in the shadows, curled his lips into a slight smile. He noticed that the creases in the key's wings were still fresh—clearly, whoever had gone ahead of them had passed through here not long ago.

Dumbledore had said he'd set up an ingenious trap, but Sagreles had suddenly changed his mind. Perhaps letting Quirrell obtain the Philosopher's Stone would be a good thing instead. That way, he could follow the trail and find Voldemort's hiding place...

What were those words again—lure the snake from its hole, entrapment, something like that.

That was also why he hadn't stopped the trio so far. He wouldn't need to make up an excuse to enter this place, and if the young wizards faced mortal danger, he could still cover for them.

"Let's go!" Harry pushed open the door, and the three young wizards vanished into the darkness beyond it.

Sagreles guided the Raven after them, amusement flickering in his eyes.

The three pushed open the wooden door, and an enormous wizard's chessboard suddenly appeared before them.

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The black-and-white checkered floor stretched to the far end of the room. Thirty-two chess pieces stood in neat formation, each one taller than they were.

The white pieces on the opposite side were already waiting in battle formation, their cold stone faces radiating killing intent.

And among the three of them, Ron was clearly the best at chess, so he naturally stepped forward to command the battle this time.

"Looks like we have to take the field ourselves." Hermione's voice trembled slightly. The three exchanged glances, then silently walked toward the vacant black pieces—Harry took the bishop's place, Hermione stood as the rook, and Ron drew a deep breath before walking toward the fallen knight.

Ron's fingertips trembled slightly, but the instant he touched the stone chess piece, his eyes suddenly sharpened. "Listen..."

His voice was remarkably steady. "Harry, move four squares diagonally right."

The pieces began to move, grinding heavily against the floor. When the black knight was smashed down by a powerful blow from the white queen, the entire room shook. The stone knight collapsed face-first onto the floor, cracks spreading across its armor. Hermione sucked in a breath, and a chill ran up Harry's spine.

"I-It's fine," Ron said, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It's a necessary sacrifice. Harry, now you can take their bishop."

As the battle continued, more and more black pieces piled up along the walls. Fine beads of sweat appeared on Ron's forehead, but his commands grew increasingly decisive. Twice, he nearly predicted the white side's attacks three moves in advance, moving Harry and Hermione out of danger in time.

Sagreles leaned against a stone pillar in the shadows, admiration flashing through his eyes.

The calm rationality this red-haired boy displayed was astonishing—he wasn't merely calculating each move, but coordinating the entire battle.

This Weasley boy might be far more interesting than he let on.

"Listen," Ron suddenly broke the silence, his voice unusually calm. "Next... I have to be taken."

"No!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.

Ron spun around sharply, determination blazing in his eyes. "This is chess! Some pieces have to be sacrificed!" He pointed at the board. "If I make this move, the queen will take me, but then you'll be able to checkmate the white king, Harry!"

"Don't..."

"What are you still hesitating for? Do you even want to stop Snape or not?" Ron's voice suddenly rose, echoing through the empty chess chamber.

Sagreles, watching the "live broadcast," looked completely bewildered at those words. What does this have to do with Snape? Was it because that big bat was always targeting the three of them, so they instinctively saw him as the imaginary enemy?

Shaking his head, he continued watching with confusion.

Ron straightened his collar and held himself upright like a true knight. "Do as I say."

When Ron took that step, the white queen did exactly as he'd predicted. It spun around sharply, its stone scepter crashing down with a howl of wind. In the final instant, Ron gave Harry a trembling smile and mouthed, "Checkmate him."

Then he was knocked unconscious.

Harry's heart nearly leaped from his chest, but he didn't let Ron's sacrifice go to waste—three moves later, the white king's crown crashed to the ground, and every white piece on the board lowered its weapon.

They had won.

The door to the next trial slowly opened. Harry and Hermione looked back at Ron sorrowfully one last time, then rushed through the door and continued down the next corridor.

"Ron..."

"He'll be fine."

Harry said it with certainty, as if trying to convince himself.

Ron Weasley was indeed fine, because Sagreles arrived in time. A single Rennervate healed all of the young wizard's injuries.

Sagreles lightly rubbed his chin. This chess match had been more exciting than he'd expected—it had been not only a contest of skill, but a trial of courage.

They'd done very well!