Chapter 45: 45: Friendship—more precious than gold
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Harry and Hermione's adventure continued. As they pushed open the heavy wooden door, a wave of stench—a mix of rotting flesh and mold—assaulted them.
They immediately stumbled back, coughing, tears streaming uncontrollably from their eyes.
Through their blurred vision, a colossal creature, at least fifteen feet tall, was pacing the room, dragging a stone club. Each of its steps made the ground tremble slightly.
"Merlin's beard…" Hermione's voice caught in her throat. This Troll was even larger than the one on Halloween. Its grayish-green skin was covered in boils, and the animal hide around its waist gave off a nauseating odor.
It suddenly stopped, tilted its head, and looked at the intruders, dull curiosity flickering in its small, murky eyes.
"Don't just stand there, Hermione!" Harry grabbed her wrist. "Remember Professor Greengrass's practical class? Fred said they taught us—"
"What?" Hermione looked confused.
"Professor Greengrass's practical classes—loads of students learned how to deal with Trolls, didn't they?" Harry shouted while running to draw the Troll's attention. "You must know at least one of those spells!"
Hermione finally snapped out of it. "Spells? Right, I know loads…"
"Perfect! Use one—take it down!"
"Let me think, let me think…" the young Witch muttered, slowly overcoming her fear. "I've got it!"
"Lead it over here…" Hermione shouted to Harry, pointing to a spot not far in front of her. "Here, lead it over!"
"Ok!"
The Troll tried several times to grab Harry but failed. Growing agitated, it began swinging its stone club at him instead.
Harry narrowly dodged the club's heavy swings, evading with agile footwork and quick reflexes, but even so, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
At last, he managed to lure the Troll to the designated spot, where Hermione stood ready with her wand.
"Bombarda!"
Hermione decisively cast the spell at the ground where Harry had just been. The moment the spell struck, the smooth floor instantly gave way and collapsed into a hole.
The Troll, focused on chasing Harry, didn't notice the pit beneath its feet and stepped right into it, immediately losing its balance.
Boom!
The massive creature crashed to the ground, its stone club flying from its hand as it fell. The club hurtled toward Harry, who had just turned back.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" A perfectly timed Levitation Charm halted the club midair, saving Harry from being struck.
"Now take this you big fuck!" Hermione immediately directed the floating club to slam into the Troll's head.
The Troll, which had just been struggling to rise, instantly went limp and collapsed, unconscious. A large, bloody lump had formed on its small, misshapen head.
"Haah.. huff.. Hermione.." Harry collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving as his heart pounded wildly.
Hermione kept her wand aimed at the Troll, her arm trembling slightly, but her eyes were resolute. "Yeah! I know! That was bloody brilliant, right?! No need to thank me—"
"No.. Hermione, a young student, shouldn't use such foul language." Harry said awkwardly, making the young witch blush with embarrassment.
"But that was indeed bloody brilliant!" Harry smiled like a clueless fool.
"S-Shout up and let's just go already!"
She pulled Harry up. "Professor Snape might already have the Philosopher's Stone."
...
They stumbled into the next room, gasping for the relatively fresh air.
But the scene before them made them freeze—on an ancient stone table, seven glass bottles of various shapes were neatly arranged, their surfaces shimmering with an ethereal glow under the eerie blue fire.
"It's Professor Snape's trap…" Harry said tightly, his fingers unconsciously brushing the scar on his forehead.
At that moment, the door behind them burst into strange purple flames, while the exit ahead was sealed off by a wall of pitch-black fire.
They were trapped in this deadly puzzle.
Hermione quickly stepped forward, her trembling fingers unrolling a parchment scroll. As Harry leaned closer, he caught the scent of wormwood and mint wafting from the paper.
"Danger lies ahead…" Hermione read softly, her voice echoing faintly in the enclosed chamber.
As she interpreted each line of the riddle, Harry's eyes moved between the seven bottles: in the slender crystal one on the far left, an emerald-green liquid swirled; in the squat ceramic jar next to it, a dark purple Potion writhed like a living thing; frost had formed on the surface of the silver bottle in the center…
"A very clever challenge," Hermione murmured. "But this isn't Magic—it's logic. If you don't have a head for reasoning, you'll be stuck here forever."
"What? Are you saying we can't get out?"
"Of course not," Hermione said. "The answer is on this paper—of the seven bottles, one will let us safely pass through the black flames, and another will take us back through the purple flames."
Harry watched Hermione as she concentrated on solving the riddle. He suddenly noticed the tears still clinging to her eyelashes—leftover from the Troll's stench.
Just then, a bubble popped in the conical flask on the far right, and the amber liquid inside was visibly evaporating.
"Hermione…" Harry warned nervously, "I think these Potions are evaporating…"
"I've solved it!" Hermione put down the parchment. "According to the fourth clue, the second from the left and the second from the right taste the same—that means they're both nettle wine and won't help us get through the flames…"
Her wand tapped each bottle in turn. "By process of elimination, the smallest one lets us pass through the black flames, and this round bottle here will take us back through the purple ones."
"How did you figure it out so quickly?" Harry asked in disbelief.
Hermione smiled. "Don't forget, Harry, I'm a Muggle-born Witch and my nickname's Miss Book Worm—few people are better at logic puzzles than I am!"
"Alright." Harry took a deep breath and handed the small crystal bottle to Hermione.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice steadier than expected. "You go back and find Ron—get two brooms from the Flying Keys room. Go straight to the owlery and have Hedwig send a letter to Professor Dumbledore."
His green eyes reflected the flickering black flames, shining with determination. "Then, if possible… try to find Professor Greengrass."
Hermione's fingers gripped the bottle tightly, her knuckles turning white. "But… what if that.. you know who.. is with Professor Snape…"
"I've escaped from him once before." Harry instinctively touched the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, a forced smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe I can escape again!"
Hermione's lips trembled. She suddenly lunged forward and hugged Harry tightly. "You are the bravest Wizard I've ever known."
Her voice was muffled against Harry's shoulder.
"I'm not," Harry said, his ears turning red with embarrassment. "You're the amazing one. Without you, we wouldn't have even passed the first stage."
Hermione stepped back and wiped her reddened eyes. "Me? I just… memorize things. But some things can't be learned from books…"
She recalled something Professor Greengrass had once said: "Like true courage, and… friendship more precious than gold."
"Exactly—very precious!" Harry agreed, picking up the smallest bottle and handing the round bottle to Hermione.
"Then let's toast to our friendship!" he said, forcing a smile, trying to make a joke—but his voice trembled slightly.
"But you are sure about these two bottles, right? No mistake?"
"Absolutely sure," Hermione said firmly, then took a big gulp. Her whole body shivered from the effect.
"No problem?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Then go back!"
She nodded, then stepped into the flames.
Just as she plunged into the wall of fire, she heard Harry shout behind her, "Tell Ron—his chess playing was superb!"
The flames swallowed her figure, leaving only a wisp of curled hair trailing in the heat.
"Fuu~~"
Harry now stood alone before the stone table, staring at the last small sip of Potion in his hand. The black flames churned before him like some monstrous creature baring its fangs.
He raised the bottle and softly said to the empty room, "I have to do this."