You lunge for the trapdoor, wand up and heart hammering as the chamber trembles under your feet. Snape snaps toward the floor too late, his face tight with anger and alarm, while the blue flames whip sideways in the sudden draft. Quirrell lies still behind you, but the book on the table pulses with a dying white glow as if the secret beneath Hogwarts is fighting back. The trapdoor groans like an injured beast when you press your wand to its seam and shout the first sealing charm that comes to mind.

Stone grinds against stone, and for one breath it seems to hold. Then a deep force surges from below, slamming against the hatch so hard that dust bursts from the beams and the candles gutter nearly out. Snape curses under his breath, lunging to reinforce the spell, and together you feel the door shudder under a pressure old as the castle itself. Whatever is waking beneath Hogwarts is not finished yet, and your next move must be faster, wiser, and far more dangerous.