Chaos ensued.
Screams were heard from all four tables, professors stood and began barking out orders, Prefects acted like they knew what to do, and panic consumed the table where a quarter of the students lived in said dungeon.
All save one
One whose reaction was completely different, one who didn't panic, who didn't begin freaking out or crying. One whose mind focused into a razor-sharp blade, whose body tensed, not in fear but anticipation.
Harry Potter's eyes flickered around the room, ensuring Hermione and his other friends were safe, then to the front table, noting several members of the staff missing, including one very specific Head of Slytherin House. It was then that he made eye contact with a certain Potion's professor, one whose gaze focused in on him, then widened as she looked across at the rest of the staff.
Snape knew, he could see it in her posture, in the way her eyes widened, in her sneer. She knew and she knew that he knew. Before she could say anything, whether to Dumbledore or even him, the Headmistress fired off a loud blast from her Wand, earning silence.
"Minerva, Filius, Pomona, take attendance then escort your students back to the common rooms. Serena, please take Slytherin's attendance, they will be staying in the Great Hall for now." The older woman hadn't hesitated, hadn't even acknowledged that only one Head of House was missing. Augustina immediately stood and made her way out the door, assumedly to handle the creature herself.
The boy knew he couldn't sneak away, not with Snape being aware of his movements. Luckily, fate decided to intervene.
"Why do they get to stay here where its safe!?" It was a loud cry of protest, probably from a Gryffindor, that sparked another round of arguments, which led to raised voices, which led to panic. With a more limited staff the situation escalated, and it was during this new wave of chaos that Harry slipped away.
Thank goodness for house rivalries.
****
There was no three-headed dog guarding a trap door. There was, however, a mess of burned vines that he was forced to climb through, covering him in ash and dirt. They had been guarding a second door. In the next room hundreds of flying keys floated motionlessly, and another was wedged into a door.
The room past had a life-sized Chess set, or at least the remains of one. The pieces were shattered and once more the opposing exit was propped open.
It made sense really, the boy noted as he quickly crossed the area, Wand drawn. If the thief wanted a quick escape, they would want the path clear and unobstructed. Past that was the logic puzzle, thankfully already answered, and then one final room which he hadn't recognized from his own voyage. A test set by Riddle perhaps? Regardless, it was the remains of some sort of construct, with dirt and debris covering the area along with a fine cloud of dust. Coughing, he continued and proceeded into the final chamber.
This one he remembered, this one he saw in his nightmares at times. The mirror against the wall, a single individual standing before it, touching it almost longingly.
Yes, it was the same, all the same, which was why he had only one thing to say when he took everything in.
"Who the hell are you?"
****
It was a woman, obviously, but not the one he had been expecting. Polyjuice maybe? That would certainly fit into the realm of 'normal' for his life. Still, upon closer inspection she did look familiar, one of the staff probably.
Instead of answering him she merely shook her head before returning attention to the mirror. "This has to be it…" she muttered, tracing the surface with her fingertips. "But what does it mean…"
She was ignoring him, and while it was probably a good thing it was also annoying. He had gotten this far after all, even if the way had been mostly cleared. She could have the decency to look bothered by his presence at least.
Fine, if she wanted to be that way he would oblige. His Wand raised, earning a snort of mockery from the adult who had caught the movement in her peripheral vision, "Oh please, what are you going to do, turn my robes a different color? I doubt you can even manage that. Children are always so pathetic, especially at your age."
Idly, Harry considered tossing her arse across the room to see if that changed her opinions a bit but decided that probably wasn't the best idea. Instead, he muttered out a Spell and the woman's arms immediately snapped to her sides, body rigid as she swayed before falling over.
He felt that a certain bookworm would have approved of his choice, probably Harriet as well. Amy… well she likely would have gone for the 'toss her arse' idea.
Regardless, his actions had the desired effect of shifting her focus onto him, and her expression into one of concern. "Gee, adults sure are pathetic at your age." It only felt fair to respond with his own insult.
A moment later and she had freed herself, not that he was terribly surprised, and had her Wand in hand. "So, the rumors were true. Riddle and Dumbledore have been taking an unusual interest in you."
Harry didn't know what was being implied, but he sure as hell didn't appreciate it. Rather than merely saying so he went with the more Gryffindor alternative.
A red flash left the end of his Wand, forcing her to raise a shield and return several spells of her own. He dodged, easily enough, and sent an overpowered blast that put cracks in her magical defense and earned wide-eyed shock.
The woman wasn't a duelist, that much was clear, but she was still an adult with many years of experience in Magic. She was also talented enough to get through all the tasks, although to be fair a group of preteens had done so last time, meaning it didn't count for much.
He wasn't fighting to win, not that he wasn't trying to but rather than he wasn't expected to. All he wanted was to force a delay, buy enough time for Dumbledore to get off her arse and show up with the cavalry. During his first encounter with the Stone, Harry had gotten lucky. His own magical protections had been enough to end the conflict in his favor.
This time that wasn't an option, there were no Love Protections or anything else to save him. Meaning there was a good chance he couldn't win. But he didn't need to, he just needed to make sure she couldn't either.
"Why are you doing this!?" she exclaimed in frustration as he avoided another beam of light while forcing her to duck under one of his own.
"Me!?" He cried back, "You're the one trying to steal it!"
"Don't you know how much it's worth?" Her declaration almost made him trip as the words sunk in. Seeing the change, she pressed forward with what she imagined was a flaw in his armor. "I heard about your parents, about what they did to you. Help me and we can split the money. Imagine what you can do with a couple hundred-thousand Galleons. Buy whatever you want, buy respect."
The truth hit him harder than any Spell she had thrown. The woman wasn't trying to use the Stone for immortality, she was just going to sell it.
"Do you," he began with a snarl, "have any idea what you are doing!? Who knows what some crazy arsehole would do with something like a Philosopher's Stone!"
Her response, a casual shrug, lighting a fire of rage in his veins. "Not my problem so long as I get paid. Now why don't you just be a good little boy and..."
Her next words were cut short with a yelp as she was forced to leap out of the path of a blast that cratered the ground she had been standing on. The next spell came even faster, and once more she barely avoided it.
She wasn't as lucky with the third, and a hastily constructed shield cracked and groaned under the pressure of the unrelenting assault.
Any attempts to retaliate were interrupted by more aggression, and it took less than a minute for exhaustion to get the better of her. A spell had been aimed low, cutting into her ankle, and causing her to drop, followed by another that tossed her across the room.
The impact of her body against the wall echoed, and even before the Wand was ripped from her fingers, they both knew it was over.
Harry Potter, panting and face red from exertion and anger, stood victorious.
_____________________
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