They had barely entered the room when Allen, spotting the large, winged silver key earlier than the others, seized it mid-flight. He lunged for the door, swiftly inserted the key into the lock, and with a sharp, decisive twist, unlocked it! The key instantly wrenched itself free and zoomed away, looking utterly exhausted from having been successfully caught for the second time.
Hermione landed happily, attempting to tame her hair, which had become wildly messy during the frantic aerial chase. After a few seconds of futility, she gave up, smoothing her robes, and hurried to join her friends who were already at the newly opened door.
Allen pushed the door inward. The next room was initially pitch black, completely obscuring their vision. But the moment their feet crossed the threshold, the room instantly illuminated, revealing a truly shocking scene.
They stood around a massive chessboard, with gigantic black chess pieces on their side that appeared to have been carved from rough, solid black obsidian. Across the room, facing them, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron, and Hermione visibly trembled; the towering white pieces were featureless and utterly silent.
"What exactly do we do now?" Harry whispered, intimidated by the scale of the pieces.
"Isn't it obvious?" Ron whispered back, his voice surprisingly firm. "We have to play chess to get to the other side of the room."
They could clearly see a third door behind the line of white chess pieces.
"But... how?" Hermione asked nervously, looking from the pieces to the door.
"I think we have to become the chessmen. I'll take control." Once Ron confirmed this was a massive version of Wizard's Chess, he was suddenly confident. He didn't need luck here; his greatest joy as a child was playing Wizard's Chess with his grandfather, Septimus Weasley. His parents never had enough money for expensive toys, but Ron had excelled at the game.
Allen, who had initially intended to intervene again, simply shrugged when he saw the intense look of focus on Ron's face. Allen was actually highly skilled at Wizard's Chess, his intelligence allowing him to anticipate moves several steps ahead. He also briefly considered if he could simply destroy the opposing pieces with a spell.
However, seeing Ron's determination, and remembering the critical importance of this moment for his character development, Allen decided to let him showcase his rare, practical talent for once.
Ron proved remarkably adept at commanding the pieces, quickly reaching a complex stalemate with his invisible opponent. Ultimately, despite Allen's occasional, subtle input, Ron realized he had to sacrifice himself to secure the final, winning move.
Halfway through the game, Harry, worried about Ron's safety, almost ruined their hard-fought position with a rash, impulsive move, but thankfully, he recovered his composure amidst Ron's furious, whispered roar of correction.
When Harry finally and shakily moved his piece three squares to the left, the White King suddenly took off its crown and dramatically threw it at Harry's feet. They had won! The towering white pieces bowed slightly and stepped aside, clearing a path for them to advance toward the next door.
"Hermione, listen closely. I don't know what we'll face next, but Ron definitely needs immediate attention," Harry commanded, his voice sharp with newfound authority.
"First, get Ron back. Grab those two extra brooms from the key room; they should take you both back up through the trapdoor, past Fluffy. Then, go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig with a message—a full explanation—to Dumbledore. We need his help immediately." Harry's sudden logic and methodical instructions genuinely impressed Allen.
"But Harry, if it is Snape, will you two be able to stop him?" Hermione asked, tears welling up as she looked down at the unconscious Ron.
"We absolutely can't beat him... maybe we can't," Harry admitted, momentarily unsure, even with Allen standing beside him. "But we can certainly buy enough time."
"If we can't secure the win, Hermione, we need you to alert Dumbledore as fast as possible so he can rescue us in time," Allen added gently. He raised his wand and carefully smoothed Hermione's wind-tousled hair back from her tear-streaked face, offering a reassuring smile.
Hermione hugged Harry tightly, hesitated for only a fraction of a second, and then wrapped Allen in a similarly desperate hug. "Good luck to both of you," she managed, saying nothing more. She was both brave and immensely sensible. She knew the sooner she recalled Dumbledore, the better chance Harry and Allen had of survival, so she refused to waste precious seconds on futile arguments.
Allen and Harry did not linger, rushing through the door and down the next corridor. Harry muttered a running commentary on the obstacles they had passed: "We've made it past Professor Sprout's trap, the Devil's Snare; Professor Flitwick must have enchanted those keys; Professor McGonagall Transfigured the chess pieces to life; now, all that's left are the complications set up by Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape."
They reached another heavy door. Harry pushed it open. A sickening, metallic stench immediately assaulted their nostrils, forcing them to pull their clothes up to shield their faces. Tears instantly blurred their vision.
Through the watery haze, they saw a massive, hulking creature, larger than anything Harry had ever encountered, lying motionless on the ground before them. It was a troll, unconscious, with a large, bloody lump visible on its head.
"Brilliant, we don't have to fight the troll again," Harry whispered, stepping carefully over one of the troll's thick legs. "Hurry, I can barely breathe."
He rushed to open the final door, which led to Professor Snape's protective chamber. The two of them had barely crossed the threshold when a burst of flame erupted behind them, instantly sealing the entrance.
This flame was unusual: a vivid, unnatural purple. Simultaneously, an identical curtain of black flame shot up at the door opposite them, blocking their forward path. They were completely trapped in the middle.
After a careful examination of the room, they realized there was nothing physically menacing—just a table holding seven vials of potions of various shapes and sizes. Although Allen couldn't immediately recall which specific vial contained the antidote from the original story, he quickly reasoned the answer: it had to be the smallest vial.
The tiny, unassuming bottle contained a pitifully small amount of clear liquid, barely enough potion to propel one person safely through the flames.
Harry grabbed the minuscule bottle and quickly poured the entire contents into his mouth.
"Allen, you've already sacrificed so much along the way," Harry stated, his voice unusually quiet and resolute. "Let me go on and face this final obstacle alone."
Allen understood: Harry had made the decision to face his ultimate challenge by himself. This was now a life-or-death situation, and Harry was acting with the self-sacrificing courage of a true Gryffindor who prioritized friendship above all else. However... Allen himself hadn't planned on drinking the potion; he had his own defense against Snape's barrier.
"Harry, what will you do if the mysterious man turns out to be inside the final chamber?" Allen decided to give Harry one last opportunity to reconsider or gather his nerve.
"Hmm—I escaped him once before, remember?" Harry said, pointing confidently to the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "I can still get away with it."
"Well... I can only say you are a true Gryffindor, Harry. Good luck!" Allen couldn't help but smile; an impulsive, courageous decision, exactly what one would expect from him.
Harry took a deep, steadying breath, said a quiet goodbye to Allen, and walked straight into the curtain of black flames.
Allen immediately pulled the edges of his Great Wizard Robes tightly around his body and cast the ancient Frostfire Charm (Ignis Frigus), a forgotten, protective spell historically used during the dark ages when wizards were persecuted and burned at the stake. The spell renders non-magical flames harmless, producing only a slight, bearable tingling sensation.
Allen then activated his Invisibility ability and passed through the black flames. While it was still somewhat perilous and singed the edges of the hair around his head—since these were magical flames, not just ordinary ones—the combination of the ancient protective spell and the innate resistance of his high-quality mage robes was sufficient to prevent any further damage.