Begged and borrowed time - Tom Riddle

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

Within moments, they stood outside the third-floor corridor, its door slightly ajar. A dim light spilled out from within. Harry's voice broke the silence, a whisper filled with fear. "Well, there you are. Snape's already gotten past Fluffy."

August's eyes widened, curiosity coursing through her. The reality of their situation sank in, and she turned to Harry, her voice fille with astonishment.

"When you mentioned it could be dangerous, I didn't quite realize that we would willingly enter a room guarded by a three-headed giant dog," She confessed, her words carrying a certain touch of amusement.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," Harry offered, as he extended the Invisibility Cloak towards his friends, its silken fabric glimmering softly. "You can take the Cloak; I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," Exclaimed Flamel and Wasley at unison, offended by the offer to leave their friend alone.

Together, they stepped over the threshold, their footsteps echoing through the corridor. Relief and gratitude washed over Harry's face, his emerald eyes sparkling with appreciation.

The heavy, oaken door protested with a creak, its rusty hinges adding a sinister note to the already tense atmosphere. As it swung open, a rush of stale air mingled with the musty scent of damp stone, assaulting their senses.

When Harry pressed Hagrid's flute to his lips, the sound that emerged was haunting and discordant, lacking any recognizable melody. Yet, its effect was undeniable. The dog's menacing growls subsided, replaced by a drowsy surrender. Its massive frame trembled and swayed, gradually succumbing to a deep slumber. Aware of the delicate balance, Ron cautioned Harry to continue playing, not wanting to risk rousing the beast prematurely. The proximity to the dog's still form intensified their senses, the warmth of its breath brushing against their skin, and the unmistakable odor permeating the air.

Ron peered into the darkness beyond the trapdoor, uncertainty etched on his face. "I think we'll be able to pull the door open," he said. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!" Hermione replied. Her reluctance to take the lead was evident.

Unfazed by Hermione's response, August spoke in a hushed tone, breaking the silence. "I will," Her voice didn't resonate with bravery as much as it did with a peculiar amusement that colored her words.

Ron, determined despite the mounting unease, clenched his teeth together and cautiously stepped over the dog's massive legs. Flamel followed closely behind. As Ron reached the trapdoor, he leaned forward and gripped the ring firmly, exerting a steady pull that caused the door to swing open. They were met with an abyss of darkness.

Harry, who had been playing the flute to keep the dog asleep, waved at Ron urgently, catching his attention. He pointed at himself, concern etched on his face, worried that the daring Slytherin girl might put herself in danger due to her association with him.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" Ron asked, a mix of worry and protectiveness evident in his voice. "Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."

Summoning his courage, Harry slowly lowered himself through the opening, gripping the edge with his fingertips to keep himself suspended. Glancing up at Ron, he felt compelled to offer an important instruction. "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"

Ron's response was quick and resolute. "Right."

August's attempt to voice her confusion was cut short as Harry swiftly let go, plunging into the darkness below. The group held their breath, anxiously awaiting any sign of his well-being. Moments later, they heard Potter's voice echo from the depths, assuring them that it was safe to follow and that he had survived the fall. A collective sigh of relief escaped their lips.