"Brilliant," Ron said, giving a thumbs-up.
Harry stepped forward, inserted the key into the lock, and gave it a twist. The lock clicked open with a sharp *clack*.
As they pushed the door open, the next room was pitch black. They couldn't see a thing.
But the moment they stepped inside, the room suddenly blazed with light, revealing a shocking scene.
They stood at the edge of an enormous chessboard. In front of them were the black pieces—each one taller than they were, carved from what looked like black stone.
At the far end of the room, facing them, stood the white pieces.
The towering white chessmen had no facial features, which made them look utterly terrifying. Neville let out a small whimper and grabbed Seamus's arm.
"If you squeeze any harder, my arm's going to break, Neville," Seamus said dryly.
He had been pretty scared himself a moment ago, but Neville's grip had somehow snapped him out of it.
"Now what?" Hermione asked.
Ron looked up at the pieces, his expression grave.
"It's obvious—we have to play chess to get to the next room."
"Maybe there's another way?" Seamus suggested eagerly. He drew his wand and pointed it at the white king. "*Confringo!*"
The piece exploded. Seamus had just begun to smile triumphantly when the fragments on the ground began to shake violently and reassembled themselves into the white king once more.
"Looks like cheating won't work," Hermione muttered.
"In my opinion," Ron said, "we'll have to take the place of the black pieces ourselves."
He walked over to a black knight and touched the horse. Immediately, the stone came to life. The horse pawed the ground, and the knight turned its helmeted head to look at Ron.
"Do we… er… have to play alongside you to win?" Ron asked.
The black knight nodded.
Ron turned to Harry and Hermione. "We'll need to think this through carefully… I'm afraid we'll have to replace five of the black pieces…"
The others stayed quiet, watching Ron as he thought. After all, Ron was the best wizard chess player among them; only he could win this game.
After careful consideration, Ron spoke. "Alright, don't get mad at me for being blunt, but honestly, none of you are very good at chess—"
"We're not mad," Seamus said quickly. "Just tell us what to do."
"Right. Harry, you take the bishop's place. Hermione, you stand next to him as the rook. Neville, you go to the other side as the other bishop. Seamus, you stand beside Neville as the other rook."
"And you?" Hermione asked loudly.
"Me?" Ron took a deep breath, his eyes determined. "I'll be a knight."
The pieces seemed to be listening. As soon as Ron finished speaking, one knight, two bishops, and two rooks turned around, walked off the board with their backs to the white pieces, and left five empty squares for the group.
"Wizard's chess rules," Ron said, taking another deep breath. "White moves first—"
No sooner had he spoken than a white pawn advanced one square.
"Harry, move four squares forward and to the right!" Ron commanded.
Harry obeyed, stepping forward four squares.
Then it was White's turn again. The white queen moved forward and brutally smashed a black knight with her stone hammer, flinging it off the board.
"I… I'm not sure about this…" Seamus swallowed hard. "Ron, please don't send me out there to get clobbered…"
"Go on, Neville," Ron said, his face showing no emotion as he directed his friend. "Take out their bishop!"
"Me?" Neville flinched. "I have to fight the white bishop?"
Still, he obediently drew his wand and cast a Disarming Charm, knocking the white bishop out of play.
Soon, a pile of lifeless black pieces lay scattered along the wall.
Twice, Ron had to act quickly to save Seamus and Neville from dangerous positions.
Ron himself charged across the board like a true knight, capturing nearly as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.
"Let me think… let me think…"
Ron sat atop the black warhorse, his face twisted in concentration.
At that moment, the white queen turned her faceless head toward him.
"I need someone," Ron swallowed. "A volunteer to be taken with me—"
"What happens then?" Seamus asked, his throat dry.
Ron didn't answer. He simply glanced at the broken black pieces lying scattered outside the board.
"No!" Hermione cried. "You'll die, Ronald!"
"Do you want to stop You-Know-Who or not?!" Ron shouted back fiercely. "This is chess! Sacrifices have to be made! Someone has to do it—why not me? I was ready for this before we even came here!"
"But…" Hermione tried to protest.
"Hurry! We don't have time!" Ron's voice was almost a command. "If we delay any longer, You-Know-Who will get the Stone!"
"I'll do it!" Seamus stepped forward. "It can't be Harry—he's the only one destined to face You-Know-Who… Ron, I hope this isn't for nothing."
Harry clenched his fists tightly. He knew his friends might not match the veteran members of the Order of the Phoenix in spellcasting skill, but in courage and resolve, they were second to none.
"Ready?" Ron took a deep breath. His face was pale but filled with determination. "I'll go first. Then Seamus moves to A1. Harry—you deliver the checkmate to the king…"
"Got it!" Harry nodded firmly.
Ron stepped forward. The white queen immediately lunged at him. She raised her stone arm and struck Ron hard in the head. He collapsed to the floor, was dragged off the board by the queen, and thrown aside.
Hermione let out a sharp scream but stayed firmly in her square.
"My turn."
Seamus glanced at Harry and Hermione, then walked heavily to A1.
"Check!"
The white queen, who had been blocking Harry, slowly turned and moved toward Seamus.
"Tell Mum I love her."
Those were Seamus's last words before the white queen struck him unconscious and hurled him off the board.
"Seamus!" Neville cried.
"Don't move!" Harry shouted at Neville. He stepped in front of the white king and looked up.
"Checkmate!"
The white king removed the crown from his head and dropped it at Harry's feet.
With that gesture, all the white pieces bowed and retreated, clearing a path forward.
"Hermione, Neville," Harry said. "You two… take care of them. Go back through the door with the keys. I remember there were several brooms there. Get them to the hospital wing as fast as you can. I have to go on alone from here."
"Harry…" Hermione covered her mouth, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please be careful!"
"I will," Harry nodded at her, then patted Neville's shoulder. "Neville, look after Hermione. You're a man—stand tall!"
"Okay!" Neville nodded vigorously.
Harry watched them leave, then turned and continued forward.
The next obstacle was a stunned troll—undoubtedly the work of Quirrell or Voldemort.
Beyond the troll were the potion puzzles, clearly set by Professor Snape.
Harry quickly assessed them, grabbed the smallest bottle, and drank it in one gulp.
He then walked through the leaping black flames into the next room.
As expected, someone was already waiting there.
Just as Harry had suspected, it was Professor Quirrell. Behind him stood the Mirror of Erised.
When Quirrell saw Harry enter, a sinister smile spread across his face.
"Harry Po—"
Before he could finish, Harry drew his wand and pointed it straight at him.
A flash of eerie green light shot from Harry's wand, carrying the cold breath of death.
"Avada Kedavra!"
That year, Voldemort had not yet returned, and the wizarding world was thriving. Harry Potter was still living on Privet Drive, unaware that countless people in another world were eagerly awaiting his arrival.
That year, the little match girl still stood on the street corner; Little Red Riding Hood had no idea the Big Bad Wolf was already watching from the forest; and the little mermaid danced among the waves, leaving trails of rainbow foam.
"More precisely, this is a story that opens a book of fairy tales… from within a fairy tale itself."
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