The corridor ahead was the only path forward.
As they walked, the silence pressed in on them.
Aside from their own footsteps,
they could hear droplets of water slowly falling from the walls—
each faint drip echoing eerily in the narrow passage.
"Do you hear anything?" Ron whispered.
They all listened carefully.
From ahead came faint rustling…
and a light jingling sound.
"Could it be a ghost?"
"I don't know… it sounds like wings."
"There's light ahead—I think something's moving."
They reached the end of the corridor.
Before them was a brightly lit chamber with a high vaulted ceiling.
Hundreds of jewel-like birds fluttered through the air, glittering in the light.
"Are they going to attack us?" Ron asked nervously.
"…Or," Lewis said calmly, "those are keys. You might need glasses."
"My dad knows a great optician," Hermione added helpfully.
"I don't need glasses!" Ron protested. "And wizarding Britain isn't that primitive—we have shops too!"
Before the argument escalated, Harry cut in.
"Focus! We need to find the key that opens the door. Any ideas?"
Ron looked around.
"…Got it! There—brooms! We can fly up and catch the right key!"
"But there are hundreds!" Hermione said anxiously.
"Yeah, but Harry's a Seeker!" Ron grinned. "It's basically the same as catching a Snitch."
Harry nodded, preparing to act—
but Lewis stopped him.
"No need to make this complicated."
He raised a hand.
"Downburst."
A sudden violent wind swept through the chamber.
The flying keys lost control instantly—
and rained down from the air.
Clatter. Clatter. Clatter.
A storm of keys hit the ground.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared.
Lewis stood there, hands behind his back, as if nothing had happened.
"…Well?" he said lightly. "Go pick one."
What had been nearly impossible—
was now trivial.
Within moments, they found a battered silver key with broken wings.
Ron shoved it into the lock—
click.
The door opened.
The next room was pitch black.
Then—
torches ignited one by one.
They stood at the edge of a giant chessboard.
Massive black pieces towered over them, carved from stone.
Across the board stood white pieces—
faceless.
Uncanny.
Even Lewis felt a chill.
"What now?" Harry whispered.
"Isn't it obvious?" Ron said. "We have to play."
The door was on the other side.
"How?" Hermione asked.
"We become the pieces."
Ron stepped toward an empty square.
The stone knight beside it stirred to life.
Three positions were empty—
clearly meant for them.
But before Ron could step forward—
Lewis grabbed his shoulder.
"No need to risk your life."
He smiled.
"We're wizards. Let's solve this like wizards."
He raised his wand.
"Summon Monster."
Light flashed—
and four humanoid earth constructs appeared.
"…What are those?!" Ron blinked.
"Your chess pieces," Lewis said. "They'll follow your commands."
"…So we let them fight instead of us?"
"Exactly."
Ron grinned.
"Brilliant."
Then—
he took command.
"You—bishop. You—rook. You—knight. And you—queen!"
Confidence filled his voice.
Chess was his domain.
It was his childhood.
His one constant.
In this match—
Ron was unstoppable.
Move after move—
he matched the unseen opponent perfectly.
The battle was brutal.
Stone shattered.
Pieces were smashed apart.
Even two of Lewis's constructs were destroyed.
If that had been them—
they'd be dead.
Finally—
checkmate.
The white king removed its crown and bowed.
The path opened.
They advanced.
The next chamber stank.
Lewis quickly cast Bubble-Head Charms on all of them.
Inside—
a troll.
Huge.
Unconscious.
A massive wound on its head.
"…Great. No fight," Harry whispered.
They stepped over it carefully.
"Wait," Lewis said suddenly.
"Before we move on—think about something."
They paused.
"The dog was Hagrid's."
"The potions were Snape's."
"The troll—Quirrell's."
"…So?" Ron asked.
Lewis looked at them.
"If Quirrell can provide a troll as a challenge…"
"Why was he so terrified of one on Halloween?"
Silence.
Hermione froze.
Ron blinked.
…That didn't make sense.
At all.
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