“You-Know-Who? Seriously? He’s out there in the Forest right now? And he wants the Stone?” whispered Hermione, shocked. For once her usual eloquence had abandoned her. They were sitting in a quiet corner of the common room the evening after Neville’s detention and Neville had finally found the time to tell her what had happened. “You know what this means, don’t you,” she continued. “Snape must be working for him. I can’t believe it.”
Neville’s opinion of Professor Snape was sufficiently low that he himself had no trouble believing it. But now he was more terrified than ever. “We have to tell someone. At least Professor McGonagall.”
“But Snape’s had all year to get past Fluffy and he hasn’t done it yet. Besides, You-Know-Who wouldn’t dare try anything with Dumbledore around. You know that Dumbledore was the supposed to be the one wizard that he always feared.” Neville didn’t actually, but he accepted Hermione’s word, it was invariably reliable. “Tell you what,” she said “there’s nothing we can do right now as we’ve got our exams next week. If nothing’s happened by then, we’ll tell McGonagall before the leaving feast and they can make sure it’s safe while we’re away in the summer. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Neville. In the excitement he had rather forgotten the looming exams. He could only worry about so many things at one time. To take his mind off the horrors of the previous night he persuaded Hermione to help him in his revision, something it wasn’t too hard to do. Hermione drew up a rather complex schedule for him to follow with study sessions for each subject.
The rest of that week, Neville worked as hard as he had ever done all year, but frankly he didn’t think it did much good. Information seemed to go in one ear and out the other. By Monday, when the exams began, he was nearly in a state of flat panic at the prospect of being thrown out of Hogwarts for failing them. In spite of everything, he’d grown quite attached to the place.
Once the first exam started however, he found he could relax a bit. If he didn’t know something, well he just had to pass over it and move on. It was too late to get worried about it. Besides, in the subjects he quite liked, Herbology and Defence against the Dark Arts, he thought he actually did fairly well by his standards. Professor Quirrell looked particularly pleased during Neville’s practical test.
Potions was a total bust, particularly as Neville was now utterly terrified of Snape being anywhere near him. He thought that at any moment Snape would discover he knew his secret and strike him down with some curse or poison him. But in Transfiguration he did manage at least half a transformation of a mouse.
By the time of his last exam, History of Magic, Neville was tired, but mostly relieved it was all over. That morning his scar had begun to itch again, however, and it only seemed to get worse as the day wore on. Meeting with Hermione after the exam, they swapped stories but the pain in his forehead forced him to sit down for a while and they took a rest in the courtyard outside the Entrance Hall.
“Are you all right?” asked Hermione. “Maybe I should take you to see Madam Pomfrey, see what she can do.”
“I don’t think Madam Pomfrey can help. I told you, the scar it… it responds to You-Know-Who. Whenever he’s near or, or something’s going on with him, I don’t know. I don’t understand it.”
Hermione looked grave. “Maybe he is up to something. Maybe they’re about to steal the Stone.” She looked at Neville with concern, as if trying to decide on something. Finally, she said “Alright, we’ll tell McGonagall. And Dumbledore as well, the Stone’s his responsibility. I said we’d wait until exams were over and now they are. Best we get this worry over and leave it in the hands of the teachers. Come on, Neville.”
She led Neville back into the castle and up to McGonagall’s office on the first floor. On knocking and entering, they found McGonagall sitting at her desk, carefully scrutinising several rolls of parchment. “Yes, Miss Granger, Mr Longbottom, what can I do for you?” she asked, peering over the top of her spectacles
Hermione did the talking. “Professor, we need to speak to you urgently. And Professor Dumbledore as well. It’s very important.”
McGonagall looked surprised. “I’m afraid the Headmaster is not here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic this morning and has had to go to London immediately.”
“He’s gone?” said Hermione. “When will he be back?”
“Tomorrow, I expect. Miss Granger, if you have something important to say, I trust you can confide in me.”
“It’s…” Hermione hesitated. “It’s about the Philosopher’s Stone. Somebody’s is going to try to steal it. Perhaps even today.” She decided it was best not to mention Snape’s name at this moment.
McGonagall’s mouth fell open and for a moment she was completely lost for words. She rose to her feet and looked down sternly on the two children. “How… I don’t know who told you about the Stone, but it is quite safe. It is perfectly well protected and no one is trying to steal it. Now I suggest you return to your common room and forget you ever heard about the Stone.”
“But Professor…”
“I mean it, Miss Granger. You would do well not to meddle in the affairs of those wiser and more experienced than yourself. Both of you,” she said, with a curious and pointed look at Neville. There was nothing for it, and Neville and Hermione left her office and headed for the staircase.
“Now what do we do?” said Neville.
Hermione’s brow was furrowed. “Neville, don’t you see? Don’t you think it was a bit convenient that Dumbledore gets an owl and leaves this very day? I bet it was a decoy. Snape’s going to go after the Stone this very night.”
“Then we’ve got to go after him and stop him!” said Neville. The words had come out of his mouth all in a rush, before he could even think to stop them. Now he’d said them, he almost wanted to take them back, but he knew he couldn’t. In what he felt was perhaps the first brave action in his life, he said nothing more, but just looked at Hermione, who nodded.
* * *
It was pitch dark in his room but Neville lit a candle and checked his watch. It was time. As quietly as he could he got out of bed, dressed and picked up his rucksack. He’d lain in bed for what seemed like ages, pretending to sleep and trying not to think about what lay ahead. Now he tiptoed out of the dormitory and down to the common room where he’d arranged to meet with Hermione.
Hermione was already there waiting for him. “There you are,” she said. “Did you bring everything?”
Neville tapped his backpack. “Why do we need so much food anyway?”
“Simple,” said Hermione. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small phial filled with purple liquid. “I made up a sleeping draught,” she said. “We’ll put it on the food and throw it to Fluffy. Hopefully it should be enough to knock him out.”
“Hopefully?”
“Well, with any luck, Snape will have dealt with Fluffy already. Don’t worry Neville, everything will be fine.” Neville looked at her doubtfully. “Come on, we should go.”
They were half way to the door when they heard a familiar voice behind them. “So Granger, sneaking out at night is terrible, reckless and dangerous thing to do, is it?”
Neville and Hermione spun round. There, standing by the staircase, fully dressed, was Harry, and Ron next to him. “Only silly thoughtless people do it, do they?” He grinned broadly.
“No, no Potter, you don’t understand,” began Hermione.
“Of course we understand,” said Harry. “You’re off to save the Philosopher’s Stone, right?”
Now it was Hermione’s turn to be utterly speechless. “Wh-what, h-how?” she spluttered.
“Oh, come on Granger,” said Harry. “You’re not the only one who keeps their eyes open round here, you know. You should talk to Hagrid more, he’s a mine of information if you get him in the right mood. You two aren’t very good at plotting things as well. Do you know how easy it is to overhear stuff in here?” Hermione and Neville exchanged sheepish glances. “So who’s trying to steal it then?” asked Harry.
“Snape,” said Neville. “We think he’s working for You-Know-Who.”
“Snivellus, really?” said Harry. “Well I’m not surprised. It’d be just the sort of sneaky thing he would do.”
“Look, I don’t care what you know or think,” said Hermione sharply. “We’re going and that’s that. Don’t even think of trying to stop us.” She had take out her wand now and was pointing it square at Harry’s chest.
Harry put up his palms. “Hey, we’re not going to try and stop you. We’re coming with you.” Ron nodded.
Hermione glared at them and didn’t lower her wand. “What makes you think we want your help?” she snapped.
Harry smiled. “Oh, so you know about Fluffy’s weakness then?” he said.
“What weakness?”
“How were you going to get past him then?” asked Harry.
“Sleeping draught.”
Harry laughed. “On a dog that size with three heads, you’d need a gallon.” He produced a small flute from his pocket. “Music. Play him a little tune, he falls fast asleep. So Hagrid says. Come on Granger, you know you’ll never get past Fluffy and the other tasks without our help.”
“What other tasks?”
Harry looked genuinely surprised. “Merlin’s beard, do you ever talk to Hagrid? There are half a dozen obstacles from different professors to protect the Stone. Did you think it was just Fluffy?”
Hermione shrugged, trying to retain her pride. “Alright, you can come,” she said reluctantly and lowered he wand.
“Right, let’s go,” said Harry, setting off.
Hermione stopped him. “Hey, who put you in charge?”
“Well who says you’re in charge either, Granger?” said Ron. “What about Neville? Or do you boss him around as well?”
Neville felt he was getting a headache and this wasn’t doing his nerves any good. “Oh, can’t we just get on with this now?” he pleaded. The four of them left the common room in silence and made their way quietly down the stairs. Harry had brought his invisibility cloak, but the four of them struggled to fit under it and Hermione refused to share it with them. Nevertheless they reached the third floor without incident and entered the forbidden corridor. They stopped outside the locked door.
Hermione took out her wand and Harry got his flute ready. “Can you actually play that thing?” Hermione asked.
“Just open the door,” said Harry.
“Hermione tapped the lock and said clearly “Alohomora”. The lock sprang open and Hermione gently pushed the door inwards. Harry began to play. In fact he wasn’t actually all that bad and a pleasant tune floated out from the flute. Cautiously, the four of them inched forward into the room. There was Fluffy, sprawled out across the floor of the room. The eyes of two of the heads were closed and as they watched the third head nodded and gently settled beside the others. Harry continued to play while the three others carefully lifted Fluffy’s left paw away from the trapdoor. Neville flinched terribly whenever Fluffy made the slightest movement.
They pulled open the trapdoor, and then on a whispered count of three they leapt straight after each other through the opening. The drop was dark and very long but eventually they hit bottom. Their fall was broken by something soft and slimy beneath them. Ron half landed on Hermione who pushed him off. They seemed to be lying on some sort of plant mass. “Good thing this was here,” said Ron whilst Hermione lit up the end of her wand to look around. The plant was quite expansive and seemed to be made up of long stringy tendrils and vines.
Suddenly Neville felt the vines wrap around his ankles. Something slithered over the top of his shoulder and he found himself pulled downwards. He struggled to free himself but only felt more tightly bound. Looking round, he saw the others were in similar trouble. “It’s Devil’s Snare,” said Hermione. “Try to relax!” “Well, telling me that’s not going to help,” thought Neville. He remembered Devil’s Snare from Herbology, one subject in which he actually learnt something. It strangled you, quicker if you struggled. He thought what he knew about it. “It hates heat and light,” he called out from a mass of tendrils.
“Someone start a fire, then,” said Harry.
“How?” asked Hermione, who wasn’t taking her own advice.
“Well, a wand might help,” said a sarcastic Ron.
“Oh,” said Hermione, freed her wand and conjured a jet of blue flame. The Devil’s Snare shrank back and released them and the four of them scrambled free.
“Don’t panic, eh?” said Ron to Hermione. “At least we had a Herbology fan here.”
“I knew all that too, Weasley” said Hermione weakly, but everyone was moving on. They made their way carefully down a dark, straight passageway that sloped downwards. Neville wondered how far underground they were. Eventually they emerged surprisingly into the light, or so it seemed to them. They were in a huge, high vaulted and brightly lit room. The room was filled with strange, fluttering winged creatures. Once Neville’s eyes had adjusted to the light, he realised they were in fact keys with wings.
There was a heavy, locked door at the far side of the room and a number of brooms lined up against the wall. Harry and Ron took down one each. “It looks obvious what we have to do,” said Harry.
“But which key is it?” said Ron.
Hermione examined the lock. “Looks like it would have to be quite a large, thick one,” she said.
Harry and Ron mounted their brooms and made to set off. Hermione joined them. “Are you not coming, Neville?” said Harry.
“No, I’d only get in the way.” He watched as the three of them flew off. Not surprisingly, and fairly quickly, it was Harry who located and caught the key. Once they were all on the ground again, Harry triumphantly unlocked the door, and they passed on.
The next room was dark but faint large shapes could be made out within. As they entered fully into the room, it became bathed in light and they saw to their astonishment what lay within. It was a giant chessboard. Huge figures stood as the pieces in their starting positions. They were on the black side. As they came onto the board the white figures barred their way.
“Er, does anyone know how to play chess?” said Neville.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” replied Ron proudly. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron set about planning his strategy and assigning the others to various pieces. Harry took a bishop, Neville a castle and Hermione the queen (“Wouldn’t want you to feel unimportant,” sneered Ron), whilst Ron took the place of a knight. Once set, a pawn on the white side came to life and advanced two spaces.
Ron hadn’t been lying when he said he knew how to play chess. A skilful set of moves enabled their side to go ahead by a bishop and two pawns and all the time Ron was avoiding putting the others at risk. Wizard’s chess was confrontational, and at this scale dangerous. Nevertheless a deft attack by Ron left Hermione as queen dominating the centre of the board, while Ron’s knight advanced down the left.
Neville was quite lost by what was going on, but Harry was watching intently. As Ron prepared to move himself, Harry shouted “Stop!” Ron looked across. “What are you doing Ron?” he said.
“It’s mate in two,” said Ron.
“But the queen will take you!”
“Yes, and then Neville checkmates on f6,” said Ron.
Hermione had now caught on. “But you can’t sacrifice yourself. It’s too dangerous. Find another way, or let me make the move, Ron.”
Ron looked up in surprise. Hermione never used his first name. “It won’t work. This is the only way, Hermione,” he said and stepped forward two spaces and one to his right. “Check,” he announced. Almost immediately the white queen began to move. Across the board it came, bearing down on Ron Weasley, who didn’t flinch once. Only as it raised its fist did Ron lift an arm to protect himself against the blow, but the queen struck him hard on his head and he fell.
“Quick, Neville, f6, there,” pointed Harry desperately. Neville stepped twice to his left. “Checkmate,” said Harry. Neville looked down at the white king, who removed his crown and threw it on the floor. At once they all broke and rushed over to Ron. He was out cold and there was an ugly bruise on the side of his head. Harry looked seriously concerned. “He needs to get to the hospital wing,” he said.
“You take him back,” said Hermione. “Follow the passage and see if you can find a way out. Neville and I will go on and get the Stone. Make sure he’s alright. We’ll see you later.” Harry nodded, put his head under Ron’s arm, picked him up and went back the way they came. Neville followed Hermione onwards.
The next room stank terribly. The two of them entered warily, but all was quiet. Lying slumped in the middle of the room, however, was an enormous troll that seemed to take up most of the room. Its stench was almost unbearable, but it was motionless and seemingly unconscious. They tiptoed past it carefully, holding their noses. “Do you know what this means?” whispered Hermione. “Snape’s been here already. He’s knocked out the troll.”
They walked through an archway into another room. The moment they did so, a purple flame appeared in the archway, blocking their way back. Looking across the room, they saw that their way on was also blocked by flame, this time black. The only thing in the room was table on which were laid seven bottles and a roll of paper. Hermione rushed over to them and read. “It’s a riddle,” she said. “Let me see…” For what seemed like ages she pored over the paper, muttering to herself under her breath.
Finally she announced “Got it!” She pulled out two of the bottles from the line. “If you drink this one,” she said “you can go on through the black flame. The other one allows you to go back.”
Neville picked up the one to go forward. “There’s barely any left,” he said. “We can’t both go through.”
“One of us should go back to help those two and warn the teachers, anyway,” said Hermione. “This is the last task.”
“You go,” said Neville. “You’re the great witch, you’re braver than I am, you should get the Stone. I couldn’t do it.”
Hermione half laughed. “You think I’m brave? Neville, I’m terrified. We all are. I don’t want to go in there any more than you do. But one of us has to. We both got this far.” She reached deep into her pocket and pulled out a bronze Knut. “We’ll do this the fair way. Heads I go on, tails you.” She spun the coin in the air. It bounced on the wooden table, rolled for a moment and then settled. Neville looked down at the coin in dread. Tails.
Something clicked in him he hadn’t expected. Without a moment’s hesitation he took the backpack pack from his shoulders. “Take this,” he said to Hermione. “I won’t need it. I don’t know how long it’ll take you to get out but there’s enough in there to keep you going.” He took out his wand, held it at the ready and took the potion bottle in his left hand. “Bye, Hermione,” he said, swallowing the last of the potion. “See you soon.”
With that he turned and walked towards the black flames, not looking back. Hermione called after him “Good luck. You’re a better wizard than you think, Neville. Go for it.” Neville raised his head, looked straight ahead of him and stepped through the flames.
Neville Longbottom and the Philosopher's Stone by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which Neville descends into the Chambers of the Stone and makes his way past the various obstacles.