Harry looked at his companions, understanding that strong trees could never grow in greenhouses.
A hundred years ago, Hogwarts students stood out because the magical world itself was fraught with danger—just stepping outside could mean encountering poachers or dark wizards.
Seeing their eagerness to stop Quirrell, Harry realized that dissuading them would be futile. Rather than having them sneak along in secret, he decided it was better to agree to their company, so he could at least watch over them.
On the other hand, Harry also wanted to temper his companions, just as Sebastian and the others had tempered him in the past.
Overprotection would only make them fragile flowers in a greenhouse, not towering trees capable of standing alone.
"This is Felix Felicis," Harry said, holding a small vial of the shimmering potion. "I don’t need to explain what it does. At the very least, it’ll ensure none of you get hurt. Come on, each of you take a small sip."
With that, Harry conjured four small cups using Transfiguration, evenly dividing the potion and handing it to the group.
"What about you, Harry?" Ron asked.
"I don’t need it," Harry replied with a wink.
After the four drained their cups, Harry addressed them again: "This is a real test for our Dueling Club. I hope you’ll follow my lead."
"Understood, Harry," they replied in unison.
Harry nodded, handing the Invisibility Cloak to the group.
"Follow me. Wear this."
The cloak was large enough to cover all four of them as they moved.
"Neville! You’re stepping on my foot!" Seamus complained in a low voice.
"Sorry!" Neville apologized hastily.
They ascended the staircase to the fourth floor, where Hermione pulled off the cloak and approached a door. "Look! This door’s been opened. It’s obvious Quirrell has already gone in!"
A deep growling sound came from within. Hermione opened the door, locking eyes with the three-headed dog inside.
"There’s a harp over there," Hermione said, turning back to the group. "Hagrid once mentioned that Fluffy falls asleep to music..."
She drew her wand and waved it gently toward the harp, which began to play a soothing tune. Fluffy, who had been growling, immediately started to droop its eyelids and fell asleep within seconds.
"Quick, get inside," Hermione whispered, still directing the harp with her wand.
"It won’t wake up, will it?" Neville asked nervously, glancing at Fluffy.
"It won’t," Harry assured him, stepping into the room first. Ron followed, scanning the walls but failing to find the next door.
"Over here!" Seamus called, gesturing to a trapdoor in the floor.
"Lumos." Harry lit his wand and peered down but couldn’t see the bottom.
"Revelio!" he cast another spell, but the result was the same.
"I’ll go first," Harry told the group. "If it’s safe, I’ll call you down."
"And if it’s not?" Ron asked.
"Then you go get the professors!" Harry rolled his eyes before jumping in, casting a cushioning charm as he descended.
He landed on something soft and springy—a plant, most likely.
"It’s fine! Come down!" he shouted up.
The opening above looked no larger than a fingernail from his perspective.
With four simultaneous screams, the rest of the group landed beside him.
"You know," Neville muttered, "I had half a mind to strangle you midair!"
"Be grateful for the plant," Ron said, brushing himself off.
"Grateful?" Hermione shrieked. "It’s grabbing my legs! Oh no, it’s wrapping around me!"
It was then that everyone noticed something was wrong.
Ron struggled but found the more he moved, the tighter the grip became.
"Stop struggling, Ron!" Neville shouted. "It’s Devil’s Snare! The more you fight, the tighter it gets!"
"Great!" Ron snapped. "Now that we know what it is, what do we do about it? Neville, you’re the Herbology enthusiast!"
"Professor Sprout mentioned..." Neville mumbled, before shouting, "Seamus! Burn it! It hates fire!"
Ron barely managed to protest before there was a deafening explosion.
The Devil’s Snare recoiled, releasing the group, who tumbled to the ground.
"See? Sometimes, I’m pretty good," Seamus grinned. "That Devil’s Snare really hated my little explosion."
"I’d appreciate it if you’d use actual flames next time," Neville said, his face covered in soot.
Seamus’s spell had been too close to Neville, making him the primary victim of the blast.
"Good thing Neville knows his Herbology," Ron said, still shaken. "Otherwise, we’d all have been done for."
"Let’s keep moving," Hermione said, wiping the corner of her mouth to stifle a laugh.
They continued down a stone corridor, their footsteps echoing alongside the sound of dripping water.
"Do you hear something?" Neville asked quietly.
"It’s a buzzing sound, like flies," Hermione said, looking ahead.
"Let’s check it out," Ron said, confidently leading the way—perhaps emboldened by the Felix Felicis.
At the end of the corridor, they entered a brightly lit room with a high, arched ceiling.
Countless sparkling, gem-like birds flitted around, their wings shimmering as they darted through the room.
On the far side stood a thick wooden door, barring their way.
"They’re not birds," Seamus said, squinting up at them. "They’re keys. But which one’s the right one?"
"The big one!" Neville pointed at a large, sky-blue key with damaged wings.
Ron and Hermione spotted a broomstick lying near the door.
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, pointing at it. "You’re the Seeker—it’s your time to shine!"
"Accio!" Harry said, raising his wand toward the injured key.
The key flailed weakly but couldn’t resist the spell. Harry grabbed it, smirking at Ron.
"Sometimes, being a Seeker doesn’t even require a broom."
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