[ Location: Gryffindor Common Room ][ Date: June 4th, 1992 - Evening ]
"You can't go!" Neville Longbottom stood in front of the portrait hole, clutching his toad, Trevor. He looked terrified but determined. "I'll fight you!"
"Neville," I sighed, adjusting my robes. "I really don't want to do this."
"You're always getting into trouble!" Neville's voice shook. "Gryffindor can't lose more points!"
Harry looked at me. "Vivan? Do something."
"Me? Why me?"
"Because you're the one he is most scared of" Ron hissed.
"Fine," I stepped forward. "Neville, I'm sorry. Truly."
I just raised my wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs glued together. He fell forward, stiff as a board.
THUD.
"That was brutal," Shikamaru commented, stepping over Neville's frozen body. "Ninja level brutality. I like it."
"We're terrible people," Hermione whispered.
"We're saving the world," I corrected. "Let's go."
[ Location: The Third Floor Corridor ][ Time: 10:30 PM ]
The door was already open.
"He's already here," Harry whispered. "Snape."
"Or Quirrell," I muttered under my breath.
We stepped inside. A harp was playing by itself in the corner. Fluffy, the three-headed dog, was fast asleep, all three heads snoring in a rhythmic, drool-filled harmony.
"It smells like wet dog and death," Shikamaru noted, pinching his nose.
"We have to move the paw," Harry said, pointing to the massive limb covering the trapdoor.
"On three," Ron said. "One, two, three—push!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione pushed.
I didn't.
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis. ]
I lifted the paw effortlessly, hovering it inches above the door. "Hurry up."
They opened the trapdoor. Darkness stared back.
"Ladies first?" Ron offered to Hermione.
"Coward," she rolled her eyes and jumped.
Harry followed.
Then Ron.
"Your turn, Shika," I said.
"This is a drag," Shikamaru sighed, and stepped into the void.
I looked at Fluffy.
The harp had stopped playing.
Three pairs of eyes snapped open.
GROWL.
"Nice doggy," I squeaked, and jumped.
[ Location: Devil's Snare ]
I landed on something soft. And squirming.
"It's a plant!" Ron screamed from somewhere to my left. "It's alive!"
Vines wrapped around my ankles, my chest, my neck. Devil's Snare.
"Stop moving!" Hermione yelled. "It kills you faster if you struggle!"
"Easy for you to say!" Ron shouted, flailing. "It's eating me!"
I relaxed my muscles.
I knew the trick.
'Devil's Snare hates light and heat.'
I didn't need a spell.
I had a Phoenix inside me.
I closed my eyes. I tapped into the Animagus form, just a sliver. I let the heat radiate from my skin.
The vines recoiled instantly, hissing as if burned.
"Whoa," Harry gasped as the plant dropped me to the floor below. "Vivan, you're... smoking."
"I'm hot stuff," I grinned, dusting off my robes. "Hermione, hit it with fire for Ron."
"Bluebell flames!" Hermione cast. Ron fell to the floor with a thud.
Shikamaru was already standing there, leaning against a wall 'I just used a substitution jutsu on the vines. Heh'
"Can we move on?"
[ Location: The Key Chamber ]
The next room was filled with hundreds of flying keys, fluttering like jewel-bright birds. On the other side, a heavy wooden door.
"We need a key," Harry said, spotting a broomstick floating in the middle of the room. "That one. The big silver one with the broken wing."
He grabbed the broom. "I'll catch it."
"We'll cover you," I said.
Harry kicked off. He flew into the swarm. The keys went crazy. They dive-bombed him, their sharp metal edges glinting.
"Harry, watch out!" Hermione screamed.
'Time to play goalie.'
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis (Multitasking). ]
I aimed for the keys attacking Harry.
Swat. Push. Deflect.
I created a telekinetic umbrella over Harry, batting away the aggressive keys.
Harry dove. He feinted. He grabbed the silver key.
"Got it!"
He threw it to Hermione. She unlocked the door. We piled through.
[ System Notice: Telekinesis Proficiency Increased (69%). ]
[ Location: The Chessboard ]
This was it. A massive, life-sized chessboard. The pieces were stone giants, faceless and imposing.
"We have to play our way across," Ron said, his eyes lighting up. "Finally. Something I'm good at."
"Wizard's Chess," Shikamaru noted, looking at the board. "I've seen you play in the common room. You're decent."
"Decent?" Ron scoffed. "I'm the best."
We took our places. Harry as a Bishop, Hermione as a Castle, me as a Pawn (rude), and Ron as a Knight. Shikamaru stood on the sidelines as a Pawn too.
The game began. Stone smashed stone. Dust filled the air. It was brutal.
White was winning. But we were losing pieces fast.
"We're almost there," Ron panted, surveying the board. "But... to stop the King... I have to sacrifice myself."
"No!" Hermione screamed. "Ron, you can't!"
"It's the only way!" Ron yelled, bracing himself. "The Queen will take me, and then Harry can checkmate the King!"
"Wait," a lazy voice cut through the drama.
Shikamaru stepped forward. He looked at the board. He looked at the White Queen. He looked at Ron.
"That's a basic strategy," Shikamaru said, yawning. "Sacrificing the Knight to open a line? Crude."
"It's the only way!" Ron argued.
"No," Shikamaru pointed to an empty square on the far left. "If Vivan moves his Pawn to E5, it forces the Bishop to intercept. That opens a diagonal for Harry. Checkmate in three moves. Zero casualties."
Ron stared at the board. He blinked. He traced the lines in his head.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered. "He's right."
"Move, Vivan," Shikamaru Said.
I stepped to E5.
The White Bishop slid over to smash me.
"Harry, now!" Shikamaru commanded.
Harry moved.
"Checkmate," Harry said.
The White King dropped his sword. The victory was ours. And Ron didn't have to get a concussion.
"You..." Ron looked at Shikamaru with pure awe. "You beat the board without losing a major piece. Who are you?"
"Just a guy who wants to go to sleep," Shikamaru shrugged.
[ Location: The Potions Riddle ]
The Troll room was empty (Quirrell had already killed it). We walked into the next chamber. Fire sprang up behind us (purple) and in front of us (black).
Seven bottles stood on a table. A riddle.
Hermione walked up to it. "Logic," she said. "A puzzle. Many wizards haven't got an ounce of logic."
She solved it in two minutes.
"This one gets us back," she pointed to a round bottle. "And this one moves us forward."
There was only enough in the 'forward' bottle for one person. Maybe two small ones.
"I'll go," Harry said immediately.
"I'm coming too," I said. "There's enough for a sip each if we don't swallow."
"Vivan," Hermione grabbed my arm. "Be careful. It's... it's not Snape. Is it?"
"No," I said softly. "It's not."
"You're a great wizard, Harry," Hermione said, hugging him. Then she looked at me. She didn't hug me. She just squeezed my hand. "Don't die. You owe me an essay."
"Priorities, Granger," I smiled.
Harry and I drank the potion. It felt like ice.
We walked through the black fire.
[ Location: The Final Chamber ]
The room was vast. Stone pillars. And in the center, the Mirror of Erised. (I will take this as well)
And standing before it wasn't Snape. It wasn't Voldemort (visibly).
It was Professor Quirrell.
"You!" Harry gasped. "No. It can't be. Snape... he was—"
"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual stutter. It was cold. Sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"
I stood beside Harry, my wand in one hand, my mind coiled like a spring.
"I knew it," I said. "The Turban. It's a dead giveaway, really. Fashion disaster or hiding a dark lord?"
Quirrell turned to me. His eyes flashed red for a second.
"The Frostwell boy," Quirrell sneered. "are you the one who... slapped me at the Quidditch match."
"My hand slipped," I shrugged.
"Let me speak to them..." a voice rasped. It didn't come from Quirrell's mouth. It came from the back of his head.
"Master, you are not strong enough!"
"I have strength enough... for this..."
Quirrell reached up. He began to unwind the turban.
The purple cloth fell away. Quirrell turned around.
On the back of his skull was a face. Chalk white, with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils.
Voldemort. (The one and only Wall Socket)
"Harry Potter," the face whispered. "We meet again."
Harry clutched his scar, falling to his knees in pain.
"And you..." Voldemort's eyes shifted to me. " The boy whose mind feels... strong."
"You slapped my host," Voldemort hissed. "You have spirit and I like spirit. Join me... and I will teach you power you cannot imagine."
"I have a good imagination," I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. "And right now, I'm imagining you without a nose. Oh wait. Already there."
"Kill him," Voldemort shrieked.
Quirrell spun around. He raised his hand.
"Avada—"
'Oh shit.'
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis. ]
I didn't try to block the spell.
You can't block a Killing Curse.
I pulled a stone torch sconce from the wall and yanked it into the path of the spell.
FLASH. Green light. The stone exploded into dust.
"Harry! The Mirror!" I yelled, diving behind a pillar. "Get the Stone!"
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