Rowan Haywood

Book 1: Chapter 17 - The Challenges Inside

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered. "I know what this is -- it's Devil's Snare!"
　　
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.
"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione.
"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.
"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? -- it likes the dark and the damp"
"So light a fire!" Harry choked.
"Yes -- of course -- but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"
"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant.

In a matter of seconds, we felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and we were able to pull free.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," said Harry as he joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off his face.
"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis -- 'there's no wood,' honestly."
"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.
　　
All we could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls.

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.
　　
I listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.
　　
"Do you think it's a ghost?"
"I don't know... sounds like wings to me."
"There's light ahead -- I can see something moving."
"Hm, let's go ahead."

We reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.
　　
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.
"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run."
　　
He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. I expected him to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.
　　
I ran over with Ron and Hermione and together, we tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm although I kind of made a dent on it.
　　
"Now what?" said Ron.
"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.
　　
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering -- glittering?

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys -- look carefully. So that must mean..." he looked around the chamber while the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. "... yes -- look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"
　　
"But there are hundreds of them!"
　
Ron examined the lock on the door.
　　
"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one -- probably silver, like the handle."
　　
We each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. We grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.

Not for nothing, though, was Harry and I are the youngest Quidditch players in a century. We both had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, I noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others. "That big one -- there -- no, there -- with bright blue wings -- the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Ron went speeding in the direction that I was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.
　　
"We've got to close in on it!" I called, not taking my eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above, Harry on my right -- Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"
　　
Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, Harry flew to the right, the key dodged them, and I streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, I leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron and Hermione's cheers echoed around the high chamber.
　　
We landed quickly, and I handed the key over to Harry before he ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned -- it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.
　　
"Ready?" Harry asked the other two, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.
　　
The next chamber was so dark we couldn't see anything at all. But as we stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.
　　
We were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I shivered slightly -- the towering white chessmen had no faces.