Chapter 218. You Must Be Careful!
Duncan and Hermione passed through the door under the Troll's gaze and stepped with Harry and Ron into another room.
There was nothing frightening inside, and no disgusting smell, only a long table set directly in front of them.
On it stood seven bottles of various shapes.
Harry stared at them for a while and said, "Snape's magic—what do we do now?"
No sooner had he finished speaking than—whoosh!—a surge of purple flames leapt up behind them, sealing the doorway.
At the same time, black flames flared at the door ahead, trapping them in the middle.
From the door behind them came a faint roaring; the Troll seemed to be anxiously thinking how to get them out.
"Look there." Hermione stepped forward and snatched up a roll of parchment placed beside the bottles.
She turned back to the others and read aloud:
"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind.
We are two, to help you, whichever you would find.
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead..."
"What does that mean?" Ron said blankly.
He felt as if his brain had been churned into mush by the roundabout words on the parchment.
"Can't you tell?" Hermione glanced at Ron, lifted her chin in pride, and said with a delighted smile, "It's a riddle!"
"Oh, that's really good news!" Ron said.
"But right now I only want to know how we get out!"
Hermione said, "Isn't it all written here?
Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will let us pass safely through the black flames, and another will send us back through the purple flames."
Harry looked at Hermione with expectation.
"You can solve this riddle, right?"
"Of course.
Give me a minute!" Hermione said confidently.
She flicked her hand with a flourish and turned to match the words on the parchment against the bottles on the table.
She paced up and down in front of the table, muttering to herself and pointing now at this bottle, now at that one.
After a moment—less than a minute—she clapped her hands in excitement and said, "I've got it!"
Hermione turned to Duncan and the others, pointed at one of the bottles, and said, "This smallest bottle will help us through the black flames—to get the Philosopher's Stone."
Everyone's eyes fell on the tiny bottle.
Harry said, "The potion inside looks like it's only enough for one person—barely a mouthful."
"How should we divide it?" Harry's gaze swept over their faces.
"We can only choose one person to go in."
"If…" Ron thought for a moment, looking at the other three.
"If we really have to pick someone, why don't we let Duncan go?
He's the strongest, knows far more spells than the rest of us, and has a much better chance of keeping the Stone safe…"
"No!"
Before Ron had finished, Hermione cut him off firmly and refused without hesitation.
Then, realising she'd sounded too forceful, she quickly added, "We don't know how powerful that person is.
Whether it's Duncan or anyone else, going in is very dangerous.
We ought to think this through!"
"But… there are only two ways," Ron said, pointing at the two flaming doors.
"We've come all this way—are we going to retreat together and watch that person steal the Stone right under our noses?
That would make everything we've done up to now for nothing!"
"No, that's not what I mean…" Hermione said, torn.
Harry pressed his lips together.
His fists loosened and clenched again several times.
After two steadying breaths, the look on his face shifted from hesitation to resolve.
"Let me go in," Harry said quietly.
The words carried through the room and silenced Hermione and Ron, who both turned to look at him.
"But…" Hermione frowned.
Harry's magic was far weaker than Duncan's, and letting him go would be even more dangerous.
Harry understood what Hermione meant and spoke first.
"Guarding the Stone was what we wanted to do in the first place, and Duncan's already helped us a great deal.
We can't leave everything to him.
It's our turn to do something!"
"That's enough, Hermione.
You don't have to say anything—let's settle it like this!" Harry said, not giving her a chance to object.
"Which potion sends you back?
Don't waste time—drink it and go.
See if Professor Dumbledore has returned and tell him to come help me!
Duncan, I'll still need to trouble you later.
Compared with us, the professors might be more likely to believe what you say… Duncan?"
Harry hadn't heard Duncan's reply.
When he looked to the side, he saw that Duncan had somehow already walked to the door wreathed in flames.
He raised his arm and, with his hand wrapped inside his sleeve, slowly reached into the roaring black flames.
Hermione gave a small cry and instinctively moved to stop him.
Harry and Ron stared in alarm, not knowing why Duncan would suddenly do something that looked like self-harm.
But after a moment, Duncan calmly stirred his hand through the fire and drew it back with ease.
The sleeve's surface was utterly unscorched; not even the stray threads at the seam were singed.
He hadn't been harmed at all.
Ron's eyes widened.
"How's that possible?
Are those flames fake?"
"Of course not.
It's just that the clothes I'm wearing are a bit special," Duncan said, satisfied as he inspected his sleeve.
"If you don't believe me, you can try it."
Ron looked from Duncan's school robes—which were no different from theirs except in colour—to the black flames.
He hesitated for a long time and, in the end, did not act.
"We'll do as Harry said," Duncan said.
"Hermione, you and Ron go back for the professors.
I'll go in with Harry first."
Hermione's lips trembled.
She lowered her head in thought, then suddenly rushed at Duncan and threw her arms around him.
"You must be careful!"
"Don't worry.
It's just a thief stealing the Stone.
I've been in worse danger than this," Duncan replied softly.
Hermione nodded, glanced to the side, and quickly gave Harry a brief hug before letting go.
"Good luck, Harry.
You come back safely too!"
After saying goodbye to them both, Hermione strode to the table, reached out, and picked up the round bottle on the right.
"I'll tell Professor Dumbledore as fast as I can!"
She took a sip of the potion inside, shivered, and hurriedly handed the bottle to Ron.
"This isn't poison, is it?" Ron asked suspiciously, watching Hermione's reaction.
"N-no, it isn't.
It's just a bit cold to drink…" Hermione said, shivering.
Once Ron had drunk the potion, Hermione turned her head to look, then stepped into the purple flames, glancing back every few steps until she disappeared.
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