You Get Through, but its Not All Good News.

As you start through the next hallway you turn to Jennifer, "We can't be that far behind." You say.

As you walk you begin to hear the sounds of movement from deeper in the chambers, as well as soft dialogue. Then you hear Ron's voice ringing out through the darkness.

"That's chess, Harry!" Ron's voice says. "You make sacrifices! IF it takes me then you can take the Queen next turn, and Mate the king!"

Something in Ron's voice strikes you, and your heart rate increases. You take off down the hallway at a sprint. You come around the bend to a large Dark Chamber. The chamber holds a large, human-scale chessboard. Ron sits atop a Knight's stone horse, and Harry and Hermione serve as other pieces on the board.

The White Queen rears in front of Ron, and smashes him to the ground.

You scream, and slam into an invisible wall. There is no way through the barrier.

You pound the wall, but to no avail. Harry and Hermione finish the game and move on to the next room. You don't even register it. You are blind with fury.

Jennifer walks up behind you.

"Marvolo are you ok?" She asks softly.

You walk forward and check Ron's pulse. Thankfully his heart is still beating. You don't know much of medicine, but he might survive if he gets medical attention.

"Jen" you say, your voice cold. "Please get Madame Pomfrey, he's still alive."

Jen starts to protest, "We have no time, take one of the brooms to get past the plant." You say in a tone that brooks no argument.

Jennifer stares at you, looks to Ron, "Only because he needs it, Marvolo." she said in a tone of voice that made it clear that you had not heard the last of it from her.

You turn to the chessboard, your hands shaking. You didn't understand why Ron chose the knight. The chess pieces were slowly reassembling themselves around the edge of the board, and taking their positions back across the field.

You tap the King piece on its elbow.

"You stand relieved," you say mind racing. These seemed to be regular Wizard's Chess pieces. Yet, how did they operate on their own? You know that there are ways to get the Wizard Chess to play on its own, but its not like you are playing an opponent. So its following a scripted parttern. Why would Ron risk being a knight, no that was obvious. With more players there was a social component involved. It would -

White made its first move. King's Bishop's pawn advances. There's got to be a work-around you think. You pour over the facts in your mind. The opening move was set to avoid both the Fool's Mate, and set-up for a potential Scholar's Mate. The person who made the routine thought that the player would be cautious about putting themselves in danger.

Ron moved slightly, he was still ****, but his rest was troubled.

A cold smile forms on your face, you think you have something- a counter-gambit to white's opening. It was a little risky, but it was rarely seen. Among the books Jennifer had gotten you for Christmas was an old Chess Manual. Apparently muggle chess was very similar, only less entertaining. One of the manuals described something called the Falkbeer Counter-gambit, an obscure maneuver that would work well against White with this opening.

The person who predetermined White's movements, your galleons were on McGonagal, could not account for every alternative, so it would have to rely on tried and true tactics.

You begin to move your pawns, a grim light in your eyes.

After a few rounds Hermione Granger comes stumbling through the door from the the next Chamber.

She blinks at you. "What are you doing here, Marvolo?"

"Trying to save Harry's life." you say, "It's a trap, its not just a professor moving its the Dark Lord himself."

Hermione quailed at the confirmation, but had seemed to expect it.

"Listen Hermione," you say pointing your bishop towards the mate. "Jennifer is running for Madam Pomfrey we have Ron covered. The Headmaster probably has figured out he's been out-maneuvered, but he might not know where we are. You have to try and find him, he might be the only one who can save Harry now."

While you talk the White King throws his crown to the ground, and kneels. The door at the end of the chamber swings open and allows you access to the chamber beyond. You climb down off of the chessboard, sweat on your brow.

"You won't be able to go any farther!" she cries. "There was only enough potion for Harry! I had to take the one that would send me back!"

"Hermione, slow down, I don't understand." You say wiping your forehead.

The cleverest witch in Hogwarts briefly explains that the next room has a puzzle laid out by Professor Snape, and that each of the doors were protected by different walls of fire. Each wall was bypassed with the appropriate potion, and there was no more potion for going forward, only potion for going back.

"Well I might be able to figure out a way to use the back potion to go forward," you say, not sure you believe it. "I have some potion materials with me, and I have to try to keep Harry alive, at least until you can get Professor Dumbledore here!"

Hermione looks at you with a strange expression on her face, a mix of confusion and respect.

"You aren't afraid?" she asks.

"Fear doesn't enter into it Miss Granger." You call back over your shoulder as you walk into the next chamber. "This is a Family Matter."

Despite your bravado you stand before Snape's puzzle with cold and clammy hands. Before you are various poisons and few vials of wine. The riddle's logic was easy enough, but to Hermione's point there was nothing left in the vial that would send you forward into the next chamber.

The vial that would send you back had at least two doses still inside, the light of the fire glittering gently on its surface. You knew that you had very little time, Harry had been through almost a minute before, which was plenty of time for the Dark Lord to enact vengeance. There had been one room between the Chessboard and here, a large open room with a disabled Troll, confirming that someone was ahead of both you and Harry. You had to solve Snape's riddle, and fast.

Nothing in your bag could help change the nature of the potion, at least not on this short notice. You could maybe brew something up in hours, but you didn't have hours. You pick up the empty vial. It was so small. Why would you have only one or two doses worth, all it did was prevent you from following through after the person who had made it through ahead of you. The lock would essentially keep the Trespasser safe, and the owner out.

Unless...

You look to the "return" potion. Fingers trembling you pick up the vial and turn it between your fingers.

Unless you had a spare key, something that looked unassuming or was mislabeled. For example a potion that could not help anyone trying to move forward. You run through the logic in your head. Snape relied on the riddle and colors of the flames to distract people. What had he said in the first day of class, that wizards would overlook the subtle beauty of a softly simmering cauldron, in favor of flashier magic.

It made sense, you make two potions that allow passage and just trick the trespasser into thinking that the other one was worthless. It serves as an insurance for Snape if he were to pursue. The trespasser would not destroy it, because they would need it to escape, and thus Snape could be certain that there would be a potion ready to facilitate his pursuit.

The logic held, but it could still be wrong. Your mouth is dry. Your tongue cleaves to the roof of your mouth.

"Well here goes a whole lot of nothing." You say as you tip the bottle back, carefully leaving some in the bottle behind you.

You place the vial back on the desk as you begin to feel your fingers go numb. An icy sensation runs through your entire being, and you hear your teeth chattering. You silently promise to stop taking leaps of faith like this as you stumble through the black fire in front of the last door.

The flames lick at your body, creating a stinging sensation, and you worry that perhaps the gamble was for nothing, but you push through.

Staggering to a stop on the other side of the flames you realize that sensation has returned to your extremities, and with the exception of a little bit of soot clinging to your robes you are none the worse for your experience.