May arrived, bringing with it the final Quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. The game was long and grueling, played under less-than-ideal weather conditions. However, in a thrilling conclusion, Harry managed to catch the Golden Snitch just before the opposing seeker could, clinching a third victory for the Gryffindor team.
With three wins and a substantial points tally, the Gryffindor House claimed the Quidditch Cup—a first for them in several years, much to the delight of Professor McGonagall, their head of house. Unfortunately for Gryffindor, the silver-and-green-clad Slytherins took the defeat poorly, and Professor Snape wasted no time in making life miserable for anyone not wearing Slytherin colors during potions class, quickly negating the hundred points Gryffindor had just earned.
The second week of May marked the start of the end-of-year exams. Harry felt confident that he and his friends, including Draconica, were well-prepared, and he was right: the exams proved to be relatively simple. Admittedly, Potions and History of Magic were a struggle for Harry, largely due to the professors rather than the subjects themselves.
On the Monday of the final week of May, exam results were released. As expected—and much to the dismay of the Ravenclaws—Hermione topped the list for first-year students. Draconica placed fifth, while Harry and Neville shared an impressive eleventh place. Not too shabby, all things considered.
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With only a short time left in the school year, a certain dark spirit, parasitizing the back of Quirinus Quirrell's head, was determined to secure a particular stone. The defenses established by the headmaster around the stone were straightforward to circumvent, but the stone was concealed within a powerful magical object that the spirit was at a loss to handle. It knew the Philosopher's Stone was hidden inside the Mirror of Erised, but it had no idea how to retrieve it, and destroying the mirror was out of the question since that could destroy the stone as well.
"We need to enlist some help..." the dark spirit hissed. "Potter would be perfect; his demise at my hands would announce my return to the world." Quirrell nodded in agreement.
"I concur, master, but Potter isn't foolish enough to come here willingly. We must devise a plan to draw him down." Quirrell replied. The dark spirit fell silent for a moment.
"He's always with that Mudblood. If we capture her, Potter will come to rescue her, and we can seize him then. It would be even more satisfying to eliminate both Potter and a Mudblood." It hissed to its host.
"I take it you wish for the girl to remain alive until you've dealt with Potter?" Quirrell inquired. After receiving a positive reply from the parasite, the professor began weaving intricate patterns with his wand. Moments later, the stone floor before him shifted, and a humanoid figure, towering nearly three meters tall, rose from it. By the time the golem was fully formed, Quirrell was breathing heavily—creating a golem was exhausting, and enhancing it to move silently was no small feat.
Not wanting to waste his master's time, Quirrell quickly drank a potion to replenish some of his strength and guided the golem through the various traps protecting the stone to the corridor on the third floor. From there, the animated stone creature would have to manage on its own… Hopefully, it would follow orders...
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Hermione was walking back to Gryffindor Tower after another study session in the library—"You should take a break; it's the end of the school year!" Neville had told her—when she sensed something ominous approaching from behind. Turning, she was confronted by a colossal stone 'statue' advancing toward her. Instinctively, she screamed and began casting the most powerful hexes and jinxes at the golem while desperately trying to escape. However, the animated monster was both fast and seemingly invincible to her spells.
Trying to run and fight simultaneously proved disastrous as Hermione inadvertently took a wrong turn, finding herself lost in an abandoned classroom rather than the safety of the Gryffindor common room. Despite her impressive magical effort for a first-year, her spells failed to even leave a mark on the stone golem, and she was quickly cornered and knocked unconscious by its punch.
Lifting the unconscious girl, the golem began to march back down the corridor on the third floor to where its creator awaited.
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Harry and Neville grew increasingly worried as the hours passed without a word from Hermione. She never skipped meals without good reason, and it was highly unusual for her not to show up for dinner. Curiously, the headmaster was also absent, a rarity—they knew no Wizengamot sessions lasted this long, especially not on a day like today. Perhaps he was simply enjoying a quiet meal in his office? Professor Quirrell's absence had become somewhat routine over the past month, and Professor McGonagall was preoccupied with her duties as Deputy Headmistress.
Suddenly, one of the school owls swooped in through the Great Hall's window, landing in front of the two Gryffindor boys. Receiving a letter this late was uncommon but not unheard of, so they retrieved the note tied to the owl's leg. As they opened the message, they found it written in large, irregular letters with dark maroon ink:
"Potter, if you want your friend back alive, go to the right-hand corridor on the third floor. I'll be waiting."
Harry and Neville exchanged glances, weighing the seriousness of the note. Harry scrutinized the letter again, noticing something unsettling about the ink.
"That's blood," he whispered, catching Neville's attention. "It's written in blood. Someone must have cut their finger to write this… and I'm worried it's Hermione's."
Neville paled, concern for Hermione flooding his expression. "We need to tell Professor McGonagall right now."
Harry nodded, and the two friends sprinted out of the Great Hall, heading directly to their head of house's office. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall was there, sifting through paperwork as they entered.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, I trust you have a good reason for interrupting my duties. I shan't take points from Gryffindor this late in the school year without just cause." Clearly, the professor wasn't in the best mood.
"Here." Instead of explaining, Harry simply handed her the note. The frown that deepened on her face as she read confirmed that their interruption had merit.
"I see…" she said after a moment. "While this certainly appears dire, I doubt it is anything more than an attempt to trouble you, Mr. Potter. However, I will ask the castle's portraits and house-elves to search for Ms. Granger. If she isn't found within the hour, I will dispatch professors and prefects to locate her. Rest assured, the perpetrator will be punished harshly."
Harry and Neville exchanged worried looks; they weren't reassured by McGonagall's response. As they exited her office, Neville insisted they had to go find Hermione themselves, emphasizing that not only was she Harry's friend, but she was also his.
The two boys dashed up to Gryffindor Tower to grab Harry's invisibility cloak—who knew when it might come in handy—before racing down to the third floor and approaching the forbidden corridor. They paused at the door to catch their breath.
"Ready, mate?" Neville asked. Harry nodded, steeling himself for what lay ahead. The two pointed their wands at the door's lock.
"I hope this works," Neville said, casting the unlocking spell. The door creaked open, revealing the sounds of three loud snores and the soft melody from a charmed lyre. Peering inside, Harry spotted Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed dog, snoozing beside the lyre and an open trapdoor.
"We should go down through that trapdoor…" Harry said, peering into the darkness. "But it looks pretty deep."
"Your stone could help," Neville suggested, picking one up from the floor nearby. "Toss it in and listen for the sound when it hits."
Harry obeyed, hurling the stone into the void. They listened intently, but thirty seconds passed without a sound.
"It's either incredibly deep, or something soft is down there. Let's hope it's the latter," Harry declared, steeling himself. "This must be the craziest thing I've ever done." He leaped into the unknown.
He plummeted for several seconds, landing on something that felt soft yet slippery underneath him. Tentacles? Looking up, he noticed the trapdoor hole was minuscule from this angle.
"You can jump now!" Harry called down, and moments later, he heard Neville's yelp as he descended.
"I never want to do this again!" Neville gasped as he landed beside him. "Uh, Harry, did you know we're sitting on Devil's Snare?"
Glancing down, Harry saw the plant's tendrils were already ensnaring their legs. "Oh no! I knew it couldn't be that easy. Lumos Solem!"
Thanks to Hermione's rigorous study sessions, Harry remembered that the Devil's Snare hated light. The plant recoiled into a dark corner of the chamber as the two boys tumbled to the hard floor below.
It took them a moment to gather their bearings before moving forward through the lone door in this new chamber. As they approached, they heard a cacophony of fluttering and the sounds of machinery.
When they entered, their eyes adjusted to the bright light. The room was vast and rectangular, with two doors at opposite ends, each flanked by small balconies connected by a narrow bridge. Below, the floor was littered with deadly spikes, and an array of polished marble cubes moved rhythmically in the room, producing the booming sounds they had heard earlier. A swarm of winged keys darted just below the ceiling.
"What now?" Neville asked, tossing a small stone into the abyss below, where it plummeted with a thud.
"I reckon we need to catch a key without falling onto the spikes," Harry mused. "But first, we'll have to cross the room."
Navigating the narrow bridge proved tricky, particularly for Neville, who found himself crawling in fear of the deadly drop beneath him. They finally made it to the other side and faced the exit.
"It looks like we'll need a large silver key, possibly with an ornate handle," Neville reasoned, examining the lock further.
Harry searched the flock of keys and soon spotted one that matched Neville's description. It had a broken wing, which made it less nimble. "Here goes nothing," Harry said, jumping onto the nearest marble cube. The surface was slipperier than it appeared, but he managed to keep his balance.
As he leaped from cube to cube, he finally positioned himself for the catch. After a tense minute, he sprang forward and grasped the key. Immediately, the remaining keys turned aggressively toward him.
Reacting quickly, Harry bounded back toward the balcony where Neville waited, dodging the furious swarm. Unfortunately, during his last leap, he slipped and felt the sickening sensation of falling. He hurled the key to Neville, who caught it just before it could soar away.
As Harry braced for impact, he miraculously hit an invisible barrier just above the spikes, bouncing back up and landing ungraciously on the balcony.
"You okay?" Neville asked as he dragged Harry through the door.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's keep moving." They pressed on, encountering a giant chessboard populated by life-sized pieces. Rather than engage in a game, they skillfully navigated the edge of the board to bypass the obstacle.
The next room they entered was filled with a foul stench, unmistakably the odor of a troll. Fortunately, the massive creature was dead. With that terrifying sight behind them, they moved onward.
The following chamber was circular and small. In its center sat a table adorned with seven vials filled with various liquids, a scroll, and a key. Upon touching the key, the boys triggered a trap that conjured walls of liquid, sealing off their only means of escape—the doors they had just entered through.
Neville studied the walls composed of clear and yellowish liquids, his brow furrowing. "These are contact poisons. I bet at least one of these vials has a potion for protection."
Indeed, the riddle inscribed in the scroll confirmed that one of the vials contained an antidote to pass through the wall blocking their escape while another would protect against the yellow potion. The remaining vials included two containing wine and three with deadly poisons. Solving the riddle in Hermione's absence proved a significant challenge, but after ten minutes of deliberation, they were confident that the smallest vial held the antidote, albeit enough for only one person.
"What now?" Harry asked, aware that only one could continue onward.
"You should go, mate," Neville suggested. "You're a better wizard with a wand than I am." He paused thoughtfully. "I'll go back for help."
Harry shook his head. "No, Neville, you're a great wizard, and an even better friend. But you're right—it has to be me who goes. The kidnapper wants me, and who knows what he'll do to Hermione if you go instead."
With a reluctant nod, Neville agreed, and Harry drank the potion, bracing himself. He stepped through the barrier of yellow poison, inserted the key into the door, and pushed it open...