By the Black Lake.
A giant squid lay in the shallows, enjoying the warmth of the sun.
The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were poking at the giant squid's tentacles, but it merely waved them lazily, ignoring the bold young wizards.
Harry, passing by the lake, had no interest in joining them. He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the pain in his scar, but it did no good.
"Harry, don't worry too much about the exam results. Lucien taught us so much—we'll definitely pass!"
Ron's attempt at comfort didn't relax Harry in the slightest. He shook his head hard.
"No, I'm thinking about the Philosopher's Stone…"
A large flock of owls swooped toward the castle, carrying letters and parcels.
Harry looked up at the sight, guessing they were messages from students' parents, asking about the holiday schedule.
He wasn't sure whether his aunt and uncle would write to him. Hagrid was the one who wrote to him most often.
Hagrid… Hagrid!
"Dragon egg!"
In the midst of his pain, a sudden flash of realization struck Harry. He finally remembered what he had overlooked.
He sprang to his feet and ran toward the gamekeeper's hut.
Ron and Hermione followed after him, a step behind.
"Slow down, slow down, Harry! What are you running off to do?" Ron shouted.
Harry explained urgently as he ran,
"It's the dragon egg! Hagrid loves dragons, but why would someone just 'give' him a dragon egg at that time? It's far too much of a coincidence!"
The three young wizards ran all the way to the hut and found Hagrid sitting outside it, holding a flute and playing softly, completely out of tune.
"Hagrid, back then you…"
After talking with Hagrid, Harry immediately realized that someone had already discovered a way to get past Cerberus.
The Philosopher's Stone was in danger.
"I need to find Dumbledore!"
"Ron, Hermione, one of you go find Lucien and explain the situation to him. We need his help!"
…
Late at night.
The young wizards who had spent the day relaxing and playing had mostly tired themselves out and gone to bed.
The ancient castle fell into silence.
In a dimly lit corridor, Quirrell—dressed in a purple robe and wrapped in a long turban—walked silently through the shadows.
Today, Dumbledore had been urgently summoned to London. The Ministry of Magic had important matters for him to handle.
And with the end of the annual exams, this was the most relaxed night for both students and professors alike.
Quirrell knew this was the perfect opportunity, and Lord Voldemort was urging him to act quickly.
As he moved through the castle, Quirrell reviewed the information he had gathered about the various obstacles.
He had expended enormous effort and time extracting enough intelligence from the different professors.
His goal was to move swiftly, seize the Philosopher's Stone as quickly as possible, escape Hogwarts, and then—allow Lord Voldemort, who resided within him, to resurrect, help him regain his body, and in return grant Quirrell his freedom.
Soon, Quirrell arrived at a corridor on the 3rd floor, his gaze fixed on a dilapidated wooden door.
Stopping before it, Quirrell closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.
There was no turning back.
Ever since he had encountered Lord Voldemort in the dark forests of Albania, Quirrell had been left with no choice.
"Go, my faithful servant. Retrieve the Philosopher's Stone for me…"
Whispers echoed within Quirrell's mind, once again urging him to act.
Quirrell let out a silent sigh, drew a harp from his robes, and raised his wand.
The harp grew larger, its strings plucking themselves and producing a series of beautiful notes.
Watching the harp play, Quirrell felt rather helpless. He hadn't expected the ferocious, brutal Cerberus to fall asleep simply from listening to music.
What surprised him even more was how easily the half-giant Hagrid had been tricked. A few drinks, and he had revealed everything.
Quirrell felt a twinge of regret. He hadn't actually needed to spend all his savings on a dragon egg just to obtain that information.
After waiting for a while, until clear snoring sounds drifted out from the room, Quirrell opened the wooden door and stepped inside.
Cerberus was indeed asleep, its three massive heads slumped on the floor, drooling as it snored loudly.
Quirrell casually tossed the harp into a corner, waved his wand, and shifted Cerberus's body aside, revealing the trapdoor in the floor.
He lifted the trapdoor and saw snake-like vines slowly writhing below.
Devil's Snare. Professor Sprout was as kind and generous as ever.
Quirrell didn't bother to produce light or ignite a flame first. He jumped straight down onto the Devil's Snare.
It was a ready-made cushion—no reason not to use it.
After landing, he didn't bother to look around carefully and failed to notice something round wrapped within the Devil's Snare.
"Lumos."
Light burst forth, and the Devil's Snare gradually loosened its grip, releasing Quirrell and letting him drop to the ground below.
Clack, clack, clack—!!
As Quirrell's feet touched the floor, he heard the sound of hard objects colliding, as though something else had fallen down with him.
He aimed the tip of his wand at the ground, using the light to see more clearly.
Smooth, yellowish-green cabbages were scattered across the floor. As the Devil's Snare continued to retract, even more dropped from above Quirrell's head.
At first, Quirrell didn't react. None of the intelligence he had gathered mentioned any cabbages…
Then the first cabbages that had fallen seemed to awaken. Cracks split open on their surfaces, and two rows of pitch-black teeth ground together, gleaming with a terrifying cold light.
As a Ravenclaw graduate of excellent standing, Quirrell was naturally quite proficient in Herbology, and in that instant, he recognized what they were.
No—Fuck... who put these Moth*rfuck*ng cabbages here??!
These were Magical Chomping Cabbages!
Quirrell hastily cast a Shield Charm around himself, but in his panic, it wasn't sturdy or thick enough.
One snapping cabbage chewed straight through the hastily formed shield and sank its teeth viciously into Quirrell's left hand.
Rip—!
His sleeve, along with a large chunk of flesh, was torn clean off by the snapping cabbage. If Quirrell hadn't reacted quickly and yanked his hand back in time, he would have lost his left hand altogether.
"Ahh!! Damn it! Why is it always my left hand!"
Quirrell repeatedly cast fire charms, the most effective way to deal with Biting Cabbages.
His response was correct—it was just that there were far too many of them.
And the more fiercely the flames burned, the faster the Devil's Snare above contracted, causing even more Biting Cabbages to rain down!
In the end, at the cost of deep bites to his left hand and right calf, and his robes being shredded beyond recognition, Quirrell finally cleared out all the Biting Cabbages.
He limped into the corridor, making his way toward the next room.
Quirrell endured the pain, breathing heavily.
"How did Professor Sprout become like this, hiding Biting Cabbages inside Devil's Snare!"
"Don't focus on the pain in your body. The Philosopher's Stone is close at hand…"
"When I am resurrected, restoring your health will be easy…"
Lord Voldemort's whispers sounded once more, irritating Quirrell, though he dared not voice a single complaint.
"Next is Professor Flitwick's trial. He was once my Head of House—I understand him."
"I'm sure that obstacle won't be difficult."
~~~
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