The three Gryffindors stood in the darkened hall, surrounded by what appeared to be large statues – easily twice their size.

 “I don’t like this,” Hermione began. “I don’t like this at all…”

Harry moved in for a closer look – he hadn’t much liked the Devil’s Snare or the fast-moving keys, either.

 “Where are we? A graveyard?”

 “This is no graveyard,” Ron told them. “It’s a chess board!”

 “There’s the door!” Harry pointed to the other side of the room and the three of them set off.

But no sooner had they reached the middle of the board, the imposing figures on the other side of the board drew their swords, bringing the three of them to a halt.

 “Now what do we do?” Hermione asked, nervously.

 “It’s obvious isn’t it? We’ve gotta play our way across the room…” Ron told them, started to look around the board, a plan clearly forming in his head.

Harry took a look too, wracking his brains in an effort to remember all of the moves Professor Snape had taught to him. But his mind was blank, and he sighed.

 “Alright, Harry – you take the empty Bishop’s Square,” Ron told him. “Hermione, you’ll be the Queen-Side Castle. And as for me… I’ll be a Knight.”

 “What happens now?” Hermione asked, once the three of them had taken their places.

 “Well, white moves first,” the red-head told them. “And then, we play.”

 “Ron?” Hermione asked in a small voice, as one of the large white pawns slid across the board. “You don’t suppose this is going to be like real Wizard’s Chess, do you?”

Considering her for a moment, Ron turned to one of their own pieces.

 “You there, D5!”

Sure enough, the piece moved - and was promptly smashed into a million pieces.

 “Yes Hermione. I think this is gonna be exactly like Wizard’s Chess,” Ron confirmed.

 “This is too dangerous!” Hermione told them, horrified.

 “Have you got any other ideas?” Ron asked her.

The girl sighed. “No. I just wish Professor Dumbledore was here. He’d know what to do.”

Harry snorted. “Would he? Fat lot of good he’s been so far!”

Hermione shook her head. “You don’t mean that. I know you’re angry about the summer Harry, but Professor Dumbledore is what makes Hogwarts so safe – you must know that.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“How? By disappearing when he’s needed the most? Or by sending stupid cryptic messages in foreign languages,  that nobody can figure out the meaning of?”

Hermione gasped. “Oh! I completely forgot!”

 “Forgot about what?”

 “The message that Dumbledore left for you… we did figure it out,” she told him.

 “And you didn’t think to mention it until now?!” Harry cried, exasperated.

 “It was that evening, in the library. After you’d left for your detention with Professor Snape… I was going to tell you when you came running back in, but you were a little distracted,” Hermione pointed out. “And then when with everything that happened in the Forbidden Forest… it completely slipped my mind. We found another book on Latin whilst you were gone. The translation we found for ‘In Somnis Veritas’ is ‘In Dreams, Truth.’”

Harry frowned.

 “Does it mean something?” Hermione asked, hopefully.

Harry thought hard for a moment before responding.

 “I don’t think so…”

 “Think, Harry. What were you talking to Professor Dumbledore about, that evening when he slipped the note inside your cloak?” she asked.

Furrowing his brow, Harry concentrated, trying to remember the finer details of that evening.

What had he talked to the headmaster about?

The Mirror of Erised… his parents… his relationship with Professor Snape… and the headmaster was rambling about dreams. How they could often seem so real… And…

“And what happened in these dreams?” Dumbledore asked.

 “Not much. The man just took care of me,” he explained. “I guess it was just my imagination, I don’t know… it made me feel better or something.”

 “A source of comfort,” the headmaster concluded, thoughtfully.

Harry nodded. “Except… when I got to Hogwarts… the first time I saw Professor Snape… I thought he reminded me an awful lot of the man in my dreams.”

The furrow in Harry’s brow deepened.

 “We’re running out of time!” Ron called from across the room. “Quirrell could have gotten to the stone already. We need to play! Harry?”

Glancing across at his friend, Harry nodded.

OOOOOOO