Chapter 48: The Training Ground
Evans, channeling his frustration into his appetite, shoveled a handful of the buttery popcorn into his mouth. "What is this?" he mumbled around the mouthful, his mood slightly improved. "It's quite good."
Like many pure-blood wizards, Evans had little contact with Muggle inventions. It was his first time trying popcorn, as it was for Neville and Draco.
"Alright, let's keep moving. Eat as we go." Solim beckoned, and the group pressed on, munching as they walked.
Past the Devil's Snare was the next challenge: a chamber filled with flying keys, charmed by Professor Flitwick.
Seeing this, Evans's sense of unease deepened. Are the professors serious? he thought, his brow furrowing. Is this really the defense for the Philosopher's Stone? Or is the Stone not even here, and this is all just an elaborate ruse?
He stared at the charmed door, then down at his bucket of popcorn. Shrugging, he pointed his wand at the keyhole with his free hand. "Alohomora."
Click. The door swung open.
In Evans's professional opinion, both the Devil's Snare and this locked door were child's play. An Unlocking Charm wouldn't work for a student against a bewitched lock, but any competent adult wizard could either break the enchantment or simply blast the wooden door to splinters.
What in Merlin's name are these professors playing at? He glanced at Solim, who was still munching popcorn with an infuriatingly calm expression.
"Hey," Evans ventured, trying to sound casual. "You know something about this Stone business, don't you?" He still felt a pang of embarrassment every time he looked at Solim, the eleven-year-old who had seen through his Animagus form. He managed to keep his composure, but the memory stung.
Solim squinted at him through a haze of buttery steam. "You'll understand soon enough. Save your questions. We'll be needing your wand in a moment."
The trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already navigated Professor McGonagall's giant chessboard. The room was a wreck, littered with the shattered rubble of the transfigured pieces. Thanks to the protective brooch Solim had provided, Ron was unharmed and had moved on with the others.
"Merlin's beard, what happened here?" Draco exclaimed, staring at the debris. "Was there an explosion?"
"This was Professor McGonagall's work. A Transfiguration trap," Solim explained to the bewildered Draco and Neville.
Many young wizards underestimated Transfiguration, seeing it as a simple party trick—turning a desk into a pig. They prioritized Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, believing Transfiguration had little practical use.
This was a profound misconception. Any wizard with real vision knew that Transfiguration was a cornerstone of magical combat. Almost every great wizard was a master of the art—Dumbledore, Voldemort, and even Snape. It was a discipline that combined offense, defense, and control, requiring a deep theoretical foundation, relentless practice, and a significant dose of innate talent. It was not like a charm, which could be cast if one had the power and the incantation; it was a delicate, complex, and graded field of magic that few truly mastered.
Evans stood amidst the ruined chessboard, his face a mask of confusion. At first glance, he'd thought the earlier simplicity was a ploy to lull intruders into a false sense of security, and that this was the real trap. But a closer inspection made his jaw drop.
The Transfiguration on the pieces was permanent; they didn't repair themselves. There was no binding magical contract on the board itself. The pieces only moved if you played the game. An intruder could simply walk around the edge of the board, completely avoiding the confrontation. It's a gaping loophole!
He couldn't contain himself any longer. He hurried over to Solim, his voice a tense whisper. "Tell me, what is the game here? These 'traps' aren't designed to protect anything! What is Dumbledore really thinking?"
Solim sighed. He hadn't expected the Council's agent to be this slow on the uptake. But since they were nearing the end, it hardly mattered now.
"You should have realized by now," Solim said as they walked. "Aside from the Cerberus, these obstacles pose little challenge to a competent adult wizard. Even senior Hogwarts students wouldn't struggle much. But their simplicity doesn't mean an intruder can simply walk away with the Stone."
There was no need for complex traps to protect the Stone. In truth, only one truly unexpected barrier was necessary. The primary function of these earlier challenges was to buy time and to test Harry Potter.
"If Dumbledore were serious about protecting the Stone," Solim continued, "he'd keep it in his office. The gargoyle guardians alone are a more formidable defense than all of this."
Evans's face went through a series of complicated twitches. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment before he managed to stammer, "So... this is... a training ground? For the Saviour?"
"Essentially, yes," Solim confirmed. "It seems our Headmaster never took the threat of a real thief seriously. In his eyes, testing Harry Potter's character and courage was far more important than the security of the Philosopher's Stone." He stowed his now-empty popcorn bucket. "Alright, put yours away. You'll lose your appetite in the next room."
He was right. When they entered the next chamber, Draco gagged violently.
"What... is... that... smell?" he choked out between retches. Neville had already pinched his nose shut, his face pale.
Solim, anticipating this, swiftly cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself. Only after allowing Draco and Neville a full, unforgettable whiff of the mountain troll's unique odor did he extend the charm to them.
With the charm in place, the two boys looked significantly better.
"You could have done that sooner," Draco grumbled, his voice muffled by the magical bubble.
Solim shrugged. "Consider it a learning experience." Neither boy had ever been this close to a troll before; it was a memorable, if unpleasant, first.
Evans, meanwhile, hadn't bothered with a charm. The stench didn't seem to affect him. He'd encountered far worse in his line of work.
They moved through the foul chamber quickly. No one wanted to linger, even with the Bubble-Head Charm. They were approaching the final act, and it was time to prepare.
"Evans," Solim said, his tone turning serious. "Cast a Silencing Charm on these two before they give us away."
He needed to check that Harry's group had passed the final obstacle. The coin he'd given Hermione was a simple trick—it had no enchantments, but it had been soaked in a powerful Fire Protection Potion. Tossed into magical flames, it would suppress or even extinguish them. He was confident Snape's barrier involved some form of fire, and the potion would handle it.
Seeing the next room was empty, Solim turned to his companions, his expression grave.
"The games are over. What comes next is the real thing."