Chapter Eighteen
Spring Term 1992
"Is there anything you think we'll need?" Ron asked, looking at me. Neville and Sally turned their eyes to me as well. Suddenly, I had become Harry's de facto second-in-command.
"Umm…" I said, eloquently asserting my temporary leadership. "Wand check?" I questioned, removing my wand from my back pocket. The others held up theirs.
"Other than that, I dunno," I said, shrugging. "Who knows what we'll run into down there?"
"Then let's go," Neville said, starting up the stairs.
"Looks like we're missing dinner," Ron said, rather sadly. Sally chuckled and swatted his arm. "Always thinking with your stomach, aren't you?"
"You know it," Ron said. We had reached the landing and turned, heading through the corridors toward the Charms room. Most students were either outside or already in the Great Hall, so we did not pass a soul on the way. The warmth of midday had remained in the stones, creating lingering heat in the atmosphere that was completely at odds with our current task. We were essentially walking directly into the unknown, which surely constituted some kind of mortal danger.
The thought was necessarily the pink elephant amongst us at that point, as we all chose not to talk about what was ahead of us. We walked silently through the corridors, side-by-side with our wands out, and slowed only when we reached the door of the Charms classroom. It was shut and most likely locked.
"Should we wait in the hall?" Sally asked, after confirming my suspicion by jimmying the knob.
"Are you a witch or what?" Ron asked, pointing his wand at the door. "Alohomora," he said. The door clicked and swung halfway open. I looked at Ron and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" he asked, somewhat sheepishly.
"I'm impressed," I told him.
"Hanging out with you and Harry is rubbing off, I guess," he responded, though his shoulders were straighter. Sally and I made eye contact briefly, smiling at Ron's well-earned pride.
We entered the classroom we had just used earlier in the week for exams, noticing immediately that it was completely bare. The desks and all the other furniture had been removed. The room was fairly expansive without all that clutter.
"Wonder where Harry is?" Neville asked, after several minutes had passed. We were all standing around awkwardly, unsure of what to say, but not wanting to break the uneasy silence.
"Right here," a soft baritone said, and we turned as one toward the doorway, watching as Harry twirled the Cloak from his hidden form. He faded into view, wearing jeans and a dark long-sleeve tee. He had his wand and the Cloak in one hand, and something else in his other one. It looked like a piece of wood.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing. He held it up; I thought it looked vaguely familiar.
"The flute Hagrid gave me for Christmas. He gave you one too, remember?"
"Oh, right," I nodded.
"I figure we'll need it to get past Fluffy."
"Too right," Sally agreed. "So are we all really going to fit under that thing?" she asked, motioning toward the Cloak.
"Do we need to?" Harry responded. "I haven't seen anyone in the halls."
"S'pose not," Sally answered, and Harry turned away. We filed out of the classroom after Harry, naturally flowing into some kind of order: Harry, me, Ron, Sally, and Neville. We made the first right and the locked door came into view-except, it wasn't closed and locked. Harry broke into a run as soon as he noticed this.
"Look-" he started, excitedly, but was cut off by something very unpleasant.
"What do we have here?" a voice called, and we all screeched to a halt, looking up. Peeves floated overhead, staring down at us with a wicked smile on his face.
"Peeves," Ron groaned, lowering his face to his palm.
"That's right! Looks like Peevesey gets to play with some ickle first years!" He blew a raspberry at us and cackled. I clenched my jaw and raised my wand, knowing that we did not have time for this.
"Petrificus totalus!" I incanted. Invisible magic leapt from my wand toward Peeves. He had enough time to look comically surprised before the spell took hold, freezing him in place. We moved out of the way as he slowly floated to the floor.
"Brilliant," Neville breathed, looking at me with wide eyes.
"I don't think that's supposed to work on Peeves," Ron said, also looking at me with wonder. I glanced at Harry and saw a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Why not?" I wondered.
"Well, he's a Poltergeist," Ron answered. "If Fred and George had known that spell worked on him, they would have done it ages ago."
"Now we know," I said, turning toward Harry and nodding.
"Right," he said, motioning toward the door. "It looks like someone has already been here." That immediately sobered all of us. The door was ajar, and from within the room we could hear Fluffy's heavy breathing. Harry lifted the flute to his lips and started playing some rough tune, indicating that we should follow him with his head. He used his body to push the door open; as I crossed the threshold behind Harry, I saw the last of Fluffy's six eyes closing in music-enhanced sleep. Harry continued to play as we crept toward the trapdoor, which was also open.
We stood in a circle around the square whole in the floor, staring down into the blackness below. Harry never stopped playing the flute, ensuring our safety while in the same room as the Cerberus; we silently considered the gaping maw into which we evidentially had to jump. One by one, we made eye contact, nodding at each for assurance. Neville tightly clenched his wand in his right fist and, closing his eyes, leapt first. I watched uneasily as he disappeared into the blackness. Three seconds passed, and Ron followed; then Sally went, holding her nose as if she were jumping into water; I stared into Harry's eyes, seeing only resolute determination there, and jumped.
Down, down, down… I fell for five seconds through formless blackness, suddenly landing on a squishy, ropey substance. There was a dim light coming from somewhere beneath me, which I noticed as I moved out of the way so Harry did not land on my head. Two seconds later, rushing air signaled Harry's approach. He landed on his bum next to me.
"Everyone all right?" I asked, placing a hand on Harry's arm. He glanced at me, standing on the not-so-solid ground, and put the Cloak and flute in his pockets.
"Yes," three other voices called. I could see their outlines in the weak light.
"What is this stuff?" Sally asked, moving closer. She was looking at the ground. I looked down and saw that we had landed on some kind of interlocking green vine. Closer inspection revealed that it was slithering slowly along, curling over itself like the sinuous body of some very long snake.
"Broke our fall, whatever it is," Ron observed. He had obviously failed to notice that the plant was gradually moving up the edges of our shoes, so slow as to almost be unnoticeable.
"Lucky," Neville commented.
"Lucky?" I asked. I motioned to our feet. "Look!"
"Oi, what's this?" Ron asked, panic creeping into his voice. The vine had suddenly reached up to wrap around his ankle.
"Must be one of the protections," Harry muttered. "Lumos!" he called, holding his wand aloft. My breath caught as my eyes saw the newly revealed portion of the room in which we had fallen; the vines covered literally every square inch of the walls, meeting underneath us to create a false floor. I squinted, peering through their dense tendrils, and saw the stone floor about six feet lower.
"Not good," Sally breathed, reaching down and trying to stop a vine from crawling up her leg.
"This has to be Devil's Snare," I said, recalling something I'd read in our Herbology textbook.
"Good, now that we know what it's called, we'll be alright!" Ron said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He was now wrestling with the vines, which had reached his waist. I shook my leg hopelessly as a silky vine wound its way up my calf.
"Quiet!" Harry said. Everyone fell absolutely silent. "I remember this now, Hermione. Professor Sprout said this plant likes dark, damp places."
"So light a fire!" Neville yelled, now being pulled down by the vines. His eyes were bulging in fear.
Harry looked at me; I nodded. "Incendio!" we yelled, brandishing our wands and shielding our faces as hot flames poured forth. The Devil's Snare actually seemed to shriek as the fire danced over the vines, and I could feel the vine on my leg retreating. Harry and I kept casting the spell for another few seconds, waiting until the vines had loosened enough for all of us to drop through to the stones below before lowering our wands. I was sweating uncontrollably and my heart was racing. A quick look around told me that everyone else was in a similar state. The `ceiling' above us was a wriggling mass of Devil's Snare.
"Everyone ok?" Harry asked, standing and looking around. There were various answers, but the long and short of it was that we had all made it through this first test.
"Wands up," he said, raising his wand and lighting it again. "Never know what's coming next," he told us, setting off down the only corridor leading away from this small room. We fell into line again, each of us holding our lit wands aloft, wondering what we'd encounter around the next curve. The darkness down here was total, so our wands only penetrated a few meters around us. As far as I could tell, the stone corridor in which we found ourselves was sloping gently downward, curving slightly to the left or right every fifty meters or so.
"D'ya hear that?" I queried, straining my ears. I thought I heard some kind of rustling sounds, like the wind blowing through drawn curtains. The darkness around us seemed to be fading, and the corridor straightened out as we continued along. Indistinct light grew in front of us, so Harry lowered his wand; we all followed his lead and did the same, slowing as he held up his hand. We crept forward, listening as the noise became louder and louder.
We stopped at the threshold of a very large room, lit somehow with a vague gray ambience. There were tiny shadows flitting around overhead, sparkling shallowly in the low light, and they must have been causing the noise. I looked across the room and saw another door.
It was open. There were two brooms on the floor near it, looking as if they had been dropped there and forgotten.
"What do you think?" Sally whispered. Her eyes were turned upward; there was uneasiness in her voice as she considered whatever those things might be.
"Snape's already been here," Ron observed, pointing toward the door. "Think we're catching up to him?"
"Could be," Neville said. "He's had to go through the same things."
"But he already knew how to defeat the protections," Harry added. "He could already be at the Stone."
"Then let's go," Sally urged, starting to move forward into the room.
"Wait," I implored, stopping her with my hand. I had been watching the shadows above us as they had conversed, and I hadn't liked the way they'd seemed to flock like birds. There was clearly some kind of magic controlling them.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"When you go," I said, finally looking them, "don't go slowly. Run across the room."
"But we don't know what's through that door," Neville said.
"We don't know what those will do, either," I responded, pointing over our heads. We silently regarded the rustling shadows for a long moment.
"Right. Listen to Hermione," Harry said. "Everyone put out your wands, except for Hermione." Three wands blinked out, leaving only Harry's and mine lit.
"On three," Harry whispered, moving into a position similar to what a sprinter would look like in starting blocks.
"One." I crouched, mirroring Harry.
"Two." I tensed my muscles.
"Three!" he yelled, exploding from the doorway into the room. I felt adrenaline and endorphins surge into my veins as I pushed myself toward the far side, accelerating as quickly as I could. Echoing footsteps around me indicated that the others were there as well, even though I couldn't see them in the crazily swinging light of our two wands. The rustling noise quickly increased to a fever pitch as we reached the halfway point, and I chanced a look upward. I nearly stumbled as I saw ten thousand shadows suddenly diving toward us, their razor sharp wings flapping madly as they dropped to the floor.
"Go, go, go," I screamed, lowering my head and pushing my body to its limits. I didn't want to know what would happen when those things reached the floor…
Harry was the first to reach the far doorway; he leaned back and threw his legs out, sliding through on his denim-clad legs and twisting his body around at the same time. He raised his wand, illuminating the doorway for the rest of us. I sprinted into the corridor beyond the doorway, stopping and turning just beyond Harry. Ron was just behind me, followed closely by Sally, and Neville was about ten meters behind her.
"Nev!!" Harry yelled, and Sally and I screamed as he was suddenly engulfed in that mass of shadowy things. Their wings sparkled as they swarmed him, completing engulfing his running form. He continued at full speed for another second, slowing as whatever was happening to him began to affect his forward progress. He emerged from the cloud just in front of the door, wildly swinging his arms around his face, with his eyes tightly shut and his mouth opened in a silent scream.
Harry and Ron caught him as he stumbled into the corridor, laying him on the floor; I raised my wand over his prostrate form, stifling another scream at the scene the light revealed. Sally could not contain her own moan.
"Oh, Merlin…" Ron whispered. We crowded around Neville, trying to figure out what to do for our friend. His clothes were torn and there were tiny cuts over every inch of his exposed skin, all of which were bleeding. He was losing blood at an alarming rate, and his breathing was already very shallow and fast. He had lost consciousness when Harry and Ron caught him, so he did not move.
"What do we do?" Sally asked, her voice high with fear.
"Someone has to take him back," Harry said. His voice was laced with guilt. I put my hand in his to try to tell him that this wasn't his fault. It was Dumbledore's-this whole bloody mess was entirely Dumbledore's fault.
"How?" I asked, looking back into the room. The shadowy, winged things had resumed fluttering around about fifteen meters in the air. The magnitude of the situation had suddenly hit me. Neville was injured badly and we were just eleven and twelve year olds, in the middle of something that was way beyond our training.
"Use the Cloak," Harry said, reaching into his pocket and unfolding the shimmery fabric. His other hand was still in mine. "Those things shouldn't be able to see you if you're beneath it. And take a broom, too," he said, pointing at the brooms just on the other side of the doorway. "Otherwise you won't be able to get out."
"I'll go," Sally said. "I'll take him. You three go on and finish this."
Harry nodded. "You're going to have to Levitate him," Harry instructed. "When you fly into Fluffy's room, don't stop. Fly straight out the door, which I know we left open. Fly all the way to the Hospital Wing if you can."
"Ok," she said, pointing her wand at Neville. "Wingardium leviosa," she said, and his bloody body lifted from the floor. Too much of his blood had already pooled beneath him on the stone…
"Hang in there, Nev," Harry whispered, bending close to his face. He then wordlessly handed the Cloak to Sally and we watched as they disappeared beneath it. Five seconds later, one of the brooms also disappeared from sight. We all watched, barely breathing, as Sally and Neville invisibly recrossed the room; thankfully, mercifully, those things did not notice their return journey.
"If any of us had been a little slower…" Ron said, trailing off. His voice was trembling.
I took a deep breath and straightened out, pulling Harry up by the hand. I searched for Ron's hand and found it. He held onto mine like a lifeline.
"Let's go," I commanded, sounding much braver than I felt. The boys did not protest, so I led them down the corridor, walking between them with one of their hands in each of mine. As we left the room behind, it became oppressively dark once again, so Ron lit his wand. Three lights in the darkness-down from five-moved relentlessly forward, ever deeper into this hidden labyrinth beneath the Charms wing.
After an interminable time, we approached another opening in the hallway, known to us only because the vast blackness expanded out into infinity, well beyond the reach of our spells. We stopped and I dropped their hands, wanting to be ready for anything. I was just beyond the edge of whatever threshold we had just crossed, and I did not fancy being attacked by another wave of those flying things.
"What now?" Ron whispered, swinging his wand around, trying to see anything in the void beyond us.
"Move, but slowly," Harry cautioned, so we inched our way forward. The blackness neither receded nor ended. If we weren't careful, we could lose ourselves in this endless night.
"Argh!" Ron called, and I threw my arm over my eyes. Bright, white light had suddenly illuminated the space all around us, and my eyes burned. They had been so used to the darkness that they had been completely unprepared for the new light.
"Bloody hell, that hurt," Ron complained. I was seeing spots.
"Shush," Harry said, though I could hear pain in his voice as well. After a moment, I removed my arm from my face, slowly opening my eyes. I had to squint, as they were still sensitive to the light, but I could gradually see a very large, rectangular room. The lights were coming from far above us.
"Any ideas?" Harry asked, after another minute. It took me a few seconds to parse the image in front of me.
"Is that a chessboard?" I asked, hearing wonder in my voice. We were standing about five meters behind the black pieces, looking across the board at the white pieces. They were all made of stone and at least three meters high. Most curious of all, however, was the faceless quality of the white pieces. Their heads were featureless marble.
Beyond the chessboard and the pieces was another door, this time shut firmly. It was white, rather than gray or black, and stood out in stark contrast against the wall.
"Looks like it," Harry said.
"Do you think we have to play our way across the room?" Ron asked.
"How?" I wondered.
"I think," Ron answered, "we're going to have be chess pieces."
"Great," I mumbled. Chess had never been one of my strong points. For some reason, even though I prided myself on my intellectual abilities, the tactics of chess had never made much sense to me. I just couldn't see more than three or four moves into the future.
"Never fear, Ron is here," Harry said, and though the words sounded like a joke, his voice was entirely serious.
"I knew chess was good for something," Ron said, moving forward. His voice was far away, as if he was thinking hard about something.
"Ok, don't be offended, but neither of you are that good at chess-"
"We're not offended, Ron," I said, looking pointedly at him. "You're very good and we trust you. Just tell us what to do." Harry nodded in agreement.
Ron looked at me for a long moment. Red eyebrows crept toward redder hair. "Thanks, Hermione."
"On with it," I nodded.
"Harry, take the left bishop; Hermione, take the castle next to Harry. I'll take the knight on his other side."
Stone grinding on stone drew our wands toward the chessboard, but the three pieces Ron had just named were only moving to the side. They seemed somehow sentient, understanding that Ron wanted to replace them with us. We moved to our positions.
"White always plays first," Ron said. We stared across the board, waiting. In just a few more seconds, a white pawn moved forward two squares. Ron then directed our pieces, as well as me and Harry, for the duration of the most important chess game of his life.
I could hardly contain the shaking in my legs as I watched the white queen take the other black knight, smashing it into pieces with the flat of her sword. Soon enough, black and white shards littered the chessboard, which I carefully stepped over as Ron directed me to each new square. I ducked out of the way when the white bishop obliterated a black pawn near me, sending sharp stone flying in all directions. I felt sharp stings on my right cheek as the smallest pieces grazed my face.
"Harry, move diagonally four squares to the right."
"Hermione, take that bishop, go on."
And so it went. Eventually, the pieces had dwindled significantly. After the white queen had moved to within striking distance of one of our last pieces, Ron stalled for a moment.
"We're nearly there… Let me think," he said, rubbing his chin and staring around the board. The rubble of the game was a testament to the skill of the conjurer as well as Ron's skill, which were evenly matched. In my heart of hearts, I knew that McGonagall had transfigured this particular protection, but it was so odd to think about school and teachers in the midst of this real danger.
"Yes," Ron said, squaring his shoulders. Harry and I looked at each other behind Ron's back. "It's the only way."
"What is?" Harry asked, eyeing the white queen. Her faceless head had started to bother me.
"I have to be taken."
"Ron-"
"No!" I shouted, overriding Harry. "Ron, you've seen what's happened to all the other pieces."
"I know, Hermione-" he started.
"There must be some other way!" Harry said.
"That's chess," Ron yelled, sounding every bit as commanding as Harry had many times before. "You have to make some sacrifices in order to win. I take one step forward and the white queen will take me, which leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"
"But-"
"DO YOU WANT TO STOP SNAPE OR NOT?" Ron yelled, much louder than before. That silenced Harry and me. Ron stared both of us down, daring us to disagree, but we both nodded.
"Yes," Harry said. "Ron, I…"
"It's ok, Harry. I understand. Hurry, though-he could already have the Stone."
"Thank you," I whispered, unable to say anything else. Ron's face was ashen, but it was hard.
"Don't wait around once we've won," he said, and moved forward. The faceless queen turned toward him and moved, raising her sword as she approached. Ron held his head high as the queen entered the adjacent square. I held my breath, partially covering my eyes. I flinched as the sword hit Ron across the midsection-Harry yelled, "Ron!" and Ron let out an oof! as the air was forced from his lungs-causing him to do down. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he lay there in between the shards of other pieces. I could see that he was still breathing though.
Harry growled, his face twisted in a snarl of rage, and he moved into position to checkmate the white king. It threw its crown away and the white pieces left the board; after they'd all cleared away, all the surviving pieces and all the shards disappeared in puffs of white and black smoke. The room was abruptly very empty. Ron's fallen form lay between Harry and me. We rushed over to him, examining him as best as we could.
"Is he…?" Harry asked, trailing off. I shook my head, taking Harry's hand and placing it on Ron's chest. Through his hand, I could feel Ron's strong heartbeat. There might have been some internal injuries or, at the very least, severe bruising, but there was nothing we could do for him now. He had been knocked out and we needed to go on.
"Come on," I said, pulling Harry up. "He wanted us to keep going. As soon as we can, we'll come back for him."
"Will he make it that long?" Harry asked, letting me lead him toward the white door. It had come ajar since I'd last looked at it.
"He has to," I said, thinking of Ron's selfless act. He and I had not started on the best of terms this year, and our friendship had only been lukewarm through most of spring term, but his bravery had impressed me. He had let himself be taken so Harry and I could go on. I drew Harry closer to me as we approached the door, not wanting to lose my last shield against whatever horrors awaited us.
"It'll be alright, Hermione," he said, walking next to me and against my side now. "There's nothing we can't do together."
"I know, Harry," I responded, miraculously smiling. His words had warmed my heart.
I pushed the heavy white door in when we reached it, bracing myself for the next room, but the swinging door revealed only a small space containing a low table with seven different flasks on top, in a neat little row.
"This one has to be Snape's" he said.
"Then he probably walked right through," I answered, sadly. Harry pulled me through now; as soon as we had both entered the room, the door behind us disappeared. Ugly purple fire replaced it. Across the room, black flames appeared where another doorway had been.
"We're trapped," I whispered, holding onto Harry. He glanced back at the purple flames and forward at their black counterpart.
"Let's see what this is all about," he said, with resignation in his voice. We had started as five, as now we were down to two.
As we neared the table, I saw a roll of parchment stuck between the third and fourth flasks. I pointed and Harry reached for it. When he unrolled it, I saw that it was filled with writing. As Harry held it out, we both read these words:
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever 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 hidden 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.
We wish you the best of luck moving past these gates,
For if you do, on the other side immortality awaits.
Even before I had finished reading the parchment, I was smiling. I knew we could figure this out! This was simple logic and we were both the top students in our year. On top of it all, the closing lines of the riddle stated that the end of the road was just beyond the black flames.
"Brilliant," Harry intoned, glancing back and forth between the parchment and the vials.
"I know; it's just logic. Some of the greatest wizards probably don't have an ounce of logic, but I know we do."
"So we won't be stuck in here forever, like they would be," Harry added, smiling. We leaned our heads together, quite involuntarily, and stared at the parchment.
"So," I said. "Seven bottles. Three are poison; two are wine; one will see us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."
Harry was nodding. "And neither of the flasks on the end will get us through the black fire."
"Right," I noted. "But that doesn't mean that one of them won't get us back through the purple flames."
"Oh, yeah, you're right of course," he agreed, scratching his head.
"Ok, well, the last clue means those two have to either be poison or wine," I said, scrutinizing the flasks.
"This one's poison," Harry said, pointing at the one on the left. "It's on the left of this one and it won't get us through the black flame."
"Makes sense," I agreed. "Third from the left-the smallest-and second from the right-the largest, can't be poison. That means the one on the far right has to get us through the purple flames!"
"How do you figure?" he wondered.
"It can't be poison and it won't get us through the black flames. If the far left is poison, then second from the left has to be wine. That means second from the right has to be wine as well, which takes care of the two flasks of nettle wine."
"Oh!" Harry yelled, comprehension filling his face. "So the third from the left has to get us through the black flames!"
"Right! And third and fourth from the right are poison."
"Wow, we're smart!" he said, laughing a bit.
"We do seem to be able to accomplish things when we really want to," I said, verifying that our assumptions were correct. I could find no flaws in our logic. The third from the left would get us through the black flames and the one on the right would see us back through the purple fire.
"One problem, Hermione," Harry said. His voice had quieted. He pointed to the small vial containing the liquid for the black fire. "There's only enough for one of us in there."
"Oh…" I breathed. After a moment of silence, he took my hands and turned toward me. His face was deadly serious, but I could see a number of emotions burning in his green eyes. My lips trembled as I considered our new dilemma.
"Drink the one on the right," he told me, gripping my hands tightly.
"But…?"
"Listen, Hermione," he said, his eyes boring into mine. His scar was deeply scarlet and standing out against his forehead. Here was the boy that I had befriended during the past year, and he was telling me to abandon him and go back. "Go back and get Ron, and get help" he said. "Wake him if you can and take the other broom by that one doorway. If you can't wake him, leave him and go for help anyway. Use Hedwig to owl Dumbledore. Do whatever you can to convince the other Professors; I might be able to keep Snape occupied for a little while, but I'm no match for him, not really."
"Harry…" I trailed off, not wanting to cry but afraid that I was going to anyway. Harry was talking about suicide, or something like it. "What if Voldemort's in there too?"
He shrugged, effortlessly brave in the face of certain death. He was not thinking about himself at that point.
"I was lucky once, wasn't I?" he asked, rhetorically. My eyes flicked to his scar. "I could be lucky again." He squeezed my hands, as if to let go, but I didn't let him. Not yet.
I pulled him against me with all of my strength, throwing his arms around me and wrapping him in mine. I pressed my face to his neck and trembled mightily for a moment, wanting to sob but not doing so. I would be strong for Harry.
The strength of my embrace must have stunned him, because he held me loosely for a second; then, he wrapped me tightly in his arms, rubbing my lower back and as I held onto him. It was inexpressibly comforting being in his arms.
"Hermione…" he said, after a length of time. I could feel the vibrations of his voice in my face. One of his hands went to my hair, stroking it briefly. I didn't realize it until many years later, but it was the gesture of someone much older.
I finally lifted my head from the hollow of his neck and shoulder, stepping back and staring at him. I sniffled and wiped my sleeve across my face, erasing the few tears that had indeed fallen from my stubborn eyes.
"You're a great wizard, Harry. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."
He scoffed, uncomfortable with the praise. "I'm not as good as you are."
"Me!" I exclaimed, incredulity coloring my voice. "You're just as good as I am! Sure, we have our books…and our cleverness! But Harry, they'll never be as important as friendship…and bravery…and trust…and-oh Harry, please be careful!"
I've never been able to figure out what I was going to say after `trust,' but if I were under the influence of Veritaserum I wouldn't be surprised if `love' was the answer.
That moment, standing there with Harry between the two walls of flame, was the single most defining instant in our early friendship. There was boundless loyalty and support flowing between us, and it solidified the bedrock of our future relationship. A scared and selfless twelve year old had just subconsciously aligned herself with an equally scared and selfless eleven year old.
"I'll try," he said, voice trembling a little. "You have all those things too, Hermione." I gave him a watery smile. I had nothing else to say. "You drink first," he told me, pointing toward the flask on the right.
I reached for it and downed its entire volume in one gulp, shuddering suddenly at the intense feeling of coldness spreading through my body.
"You alright?"
"Yes, it's just very cold."
"Go before it wears off-"
"Good luck, take care-"
"GO, HERMIONE, NOW!" he commanded, and I began walking toward the purple flame. I looked over my shoulder, watching as he drank the contents of the smallest flask, third from the left. He shuddered as I had; then he stood at his full height and walked around the table. He looked back over his shoulder at me, nodded once, and disappeared through the black fire. He was gone.
I turned my head forward, ignoring the tears that had started once again, and passed through the purple flames.
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