Harry Potter: The Blogger of Hogwarts

We went down through the trapdoor and landed on a plant. Unfortunately, it turned out to be Devil's Snare, which is just as bad as you think it is. The bloody plant started squeezing the life out of us. Fortunately, Hermione remembered the plant's one weakness: fire. She cast a spell and a jet of blue flame erupted from her wand. I think I'm going to remember that determined, calm look on her face for the rest of my life. Hermione can be scary sometimes.

The next challenge must have been Flitwick's, because it was a bunch of keys that were flying in the air. Very conveniently, there were broomsticks just casually leaning against a wall. Hermione groaned. Even after the Quidditch match, she still hated flying with a burning passion. She would have withdrawn from the team, but everyone would think she was a coward and she couldn't handle that. But we still managed to find the right key despite all that!

"Does anyone think these challenges are maybe a bit too easy?" I wondered.

Ron looked at me askance. "Harry, if all these challenges are so easy, why hasn't Professor O'Neill gotten through them?"

That was a very good question. "Maybe he's just not good at flying?" I said weakly. "Or maybe there's just tougher ones ahead."

"That's not impossible," Hermione warned us. "This could just be lulling us into a false sense of security. The next test could be tougher than all the ones combined!"

We went into the next room and there was a giant chessboard. Ron crossed his arms. "Seriously? Okay, maybe Harry has a point." I beamed. "I mean, chessboard…flying…it's all kind of up our alley, isn't it?" Ron, in case I haven't mentioned, is a champion chess player. I have seen him trounce sixth years.

We managed to win the game. Ron very nearly was forced to sacrifice himself, though, but he managed to get out of that position barely. In the end, we won. I don't think we would have succeeded if Ron hadn't challenged every single person who ever called him a blood traitor to a game of chess.

The next room was empty. Hermione thinks it used to contain Quirrell's protection, but it was removed after he was found to be possessed by Voldemort. That sounded plausible enough. The next room seemed empty at first. But then I heard a hissing sound just at the very edge of my hearing. "Gas masks, now!"

We managed to slip on the gas masks Hermione's parents had given us just seconds before a red mist flowed into the room. It took several minutes for it to dissipate. My heart was thudding in my chest the whole time, hoping against hope the very old looking gas masks would be enough to stand against whatever potion O'Neill must have pumped into the room.

"Are you ready?" I asked the two of them.

"Oh, yes, because I'm going to turn back now after going through all that," Ron said scornfully. "Enough with the drama, let's just get the bloody stone and get out before someone catches us."

I opened the door to the next room, fully expecting to see the stone on a platform like in Indiana Jones (and then we'd probably have to dodge a boulder, also like in Indiana Jones), but there was no stone at all. Instead, there was a mirror. I walked up to it and I didn't see myself. I saw something much, much better.

I saw Potter's Platters.

It was right in front of me and I could almost, almost touch it. A beautifully modest fish and chips shop in Bloomsbury, just blocks away from the British Museum. It was filled with customers and I was behind the counter and making people's orders and no one was telling me what to do and I was happy. And Hermione was beside me and so was Ron and the customers were students from Hogwarts. Slytherins and Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, all united in the service of the most noble cause ever: fish and chips. It was heaven. Nirvana. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen!

"NO!" Hermione shrieked and I was finally able to snap my eyes away from the vision in front of me to see Hermione firing random spells at the mirror, her face a rictus of horror. "No, no, you're lying! I'm not like that!"

I looked over at Ron, who was just as bewildered as me. "Hermione, it's not real."

"I WON'T LET IT HAPPEN!" Hermione shrieked, her frizzy hair waving in the wind as if electricity was being conducted through it. "I'm a good person! YOU'RE NOT REAL! I don't want that!"

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