human again / hp.

Chapter 19

The next room shimmered with golden light, reflecting off what appeared to be thousands of birds flitting through the air. The sight was mesmerizing, their metallic wings catching every flicker of the dim, enchanted light. For a moment, we all stood there, caught in a rare moment of awe amidst the chaos.

Hermione tilted her head, studying the creatures. "Curious. I've never seen birds like these."

"They're not birds," Harry said, his voice carrying a sharp edge of realization. "They're keys." He pointed toward the far end of the room, where an ornate door stood with a rusted, heavy lock. "And I'll bet one of them fits that door."

I squinted up at the swirling mass of keys, my stomach sinking at the sheer number of them. There had to be thousands. "Oh, great," I muttered. "This is going to take all night."

"Not necessarily," Ron said, moving toward the door. He brandished his wand, a grin tugging at his lips. "Alohomora!" He gave the handle an experimental shake. The lock didn't budge. Ron shrugged. "Well, it was worth a try."

Hermione groaned in frustration. "There must be a thousand keys up there! How are we supposed to find the right one?"

"We're looking for something big and old-fashioned," Ron said, pacing. "Probably rusty, like the handle."

"There!" Harry's voice cut through the murmurs. He pointed toward a key darting erratically among the others, its wing slightly bent and trailing awkwardly. "The one with the broken wing."

Hermione followed his gaze, her brow furrowed. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry hesitated, his hand brushing against the handle of the broomstick hovering nearby. "It's too simple."

"Too simple?" Ron asked incredulously. "What, are you saying we just leave?"

"No," Harry said, gripping the broomstick. "But if Snape could catch it, so can I."

"You're the youngest Seeker in a century, mate!" Ron grinned. "If anyone can do it, you can."

Harry didn't respond, but his determined expression said it all. He mounted the broomstick, his posture instinctively confident. As soon as his feet left the ground, the keys reacted violently. They swarmed him, a metallic blur of fluttering wings and sharp edges.

"This complicates things a bit," Ron muttered, craning his neck to follow Harry's erratic flight.

The room erupted into chaos as Harry dove and weaved, his hand outstretched for the broken-winged key. My wand was in my hand, useless as I watched, helpless to do anything but shout encouragement.

"Keep going, Harry!" Hermione yelled, her voice cutting through the din.

"Watch your left!" I called, wincing as a particularly sharp-edged key grazed his cheek.

With a sharp dive, Harry's fingers closed around the key. He shouted in triumph, speeding toward us with the keys in angry pursuit. "Catch it!" he yelled, throwing the key toward Hermione.

Hermione's hands shot out, catching it with precision. She darted toward the lock, fumbling slightly before sliding the key in. It turned with a satisfying click.

"Come on!" Hermione shouted, waving us through as she flung the door open.

We didn't hesitate. Ron and I rushed through, Harry hot on our heels. The moment the door slammed shut, the keys pelted against it, their furious clinking muffled on the other side.

The next room was dark, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive. My steps echoed ominously as I followed the others inside, the faint smell of dust and stone filling the air. As the room illuminated, the scene before us became clearer—a chessboard. Not an ordinary one, though. The pieces were massive, their edges sharp and imposing. Each one stood as tall as I was, arranged in perfect rows on the marble floor.