Chapter 190: Changing Plans
At five o'clock, the three boys stood in front of the corridor. Hidden beneath the invisibility cloak, they exchanged tense glances.
The door was slightly ajar.
"This wasn't how it looked in my dream…" Harry muttered.
"Could it be that Quirrell already tried and failed?" Draco guessed. "Maybe Voldemort wasn't with him to avoid getting caught if Dumbledore returned unexpectedly."
"And now Voldemort's other collaborator—the silver-eyed wizard I dreamed about—might come tonight to steal the Philosopher's Stone instead," Harry added, whispering to Ron and Draco.
The half-open door made it clear: someone had already gotten past Fluffy.
"Draco, go to Hagrid and get him to send an urgent owl to Dumbledore," Harry instructed. "Ron, if you want to back out, I won't blame you. You can go tell Professor Snape I'm in danger."
"Maybe Dumbledore only pretended to leave," Draco added, trying to ease the tension.
Ron, breathing heavily, barked back, "Don't even think about ditching us."
"The three of us stick together!" Draco emphasized, stepping closer.
"Don't you get it?" Harry hissed. "If Quirrell gets the Stone, Voldemort comes back! Hogwarts—everything—will be destroyed. I'm not trying to be a hero; I just want one of you to get help. If we all go and we fail, we might lose our lives—and so might our families."
"We don't need to go ourselves to alert anyone," Draco replied coolly. "While I was checking Quirrell's whereabouts, I also wrote three letters. I gave them to Goyle and Crabbe. If we're not back in an hour, they'll give one letter to Hagrid and send the others by owl to our Head of House and Dumbledore."
Harry stared at Draco. He had no more arguments to keep them from coming along.
As he opened the door, Fluffy—the three-headed dog—suddenly began barking loudly. Though it couldn't see them under the cloak, all three heads sniffed the air frantically.
But Harry was ready. He pulled out the enchanted flute he had prepared. It played a haunting tune on its own, casting a soft melody through the chamber.
Fluffy's eyes drooped almost instantly. With a few wobbles, the beast collapsed to the floor and started snoring.
"There's a harp over there," Draco pointed out. "That must've been what Quirrell—or someone—used earlier. If it were Hagrid or Dumbledore, they'd have just talked to Fluffy."
Ron frowned. "Did you notice how loud we were just now? Fluffy didn't react at all. And no one came running after all that barking. The fourth floor's always quiet during class—there must be some kind of soundproofing spell here."
"Definitely," Draco agreed. "Also, Fluffy stinks. Does he ever bathe?"
Ron wrinkled his nose and lifted the trapdoor. "Ugh, it's pitch-black. No ladder, either."
"Looks like we'll have to jump," Harry said, eyeing the darkness below. "I'll go first. I know some useful spells for this."
He thought of cushioning the fall with magic, but altering the floor could backfire if it wasn't ordinary ground. Instead, he decided on a different approach.
"Impedimenta!" he cast, targeting the air below. The spell would slow his fall as if he were descending through thick liquid.
Moments later, he landed safely.
"Soft ground… cold and damp," Harry muttered. "Definitely Professor Sprout's work."
It was Devil's Snare. Vines coiled beneath his feet, nearly invisible in the dark.
"Come on down!" he called up. "Soft landing!"
Ron and Draco jumped. Almost immediately, they were entangled in vines.
"It's the Devil's Snare!" Harry cried. "Ron, it hates sunlight and warmth—"
"Don't worry, I've got this!" Ron exclaimed. With surprising speed, he conjured a flickering flame that hovered like a bluebell above his palm.
The vines shrank back instantly, hissing and recoiling into the corners of the room.
Even Harry and Draco were stunned.
"Where did that come from?" Draco asked, half impressed, half suspicious.
Ron just smiled proudly, flame still in hand.
Harry and Draco shared a look and said nothing. Let Ron enjoy his moment.
They'd need that kind of confidence for what was coming next.
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