Harry and the others barely had time to finish swearing in their heads before Fluffy lunged.
In an instant, even Hermione—who'd already been through a few scrapes—went completely blank. Harry grabbed her arm and half-dragged, half-pulled her as they staggered away.
At first, Fluffy was actually a bit cautious.
After all, that first-year called Theodore Ashbourne had carved a very deep psychological shadow into the three-headed dog's mind.
What if these little wizards were secretly as terrifying as him?
But very quickly, Fluffy realized: compared to Theodore, Harry and the others were like mud to the heavens.
This was what normal little wizards were supposed to look like.
Fluffy relaxed. Like a hyperactive giant husky that had just been handed some fantastic new toys, he tore after them, having the time of his life.
If he weren't so bored from being locked up here, and if Theodore weren't watching from the side, he probably would've already smacked them into paste with one paw.
Even with him deliberately holding back, all Harry and the others could do was run for dear life. The sight made Theodore shake his head.
Compared to the battle-hardened hero Harry would become in the "original timeline," the Harry in front of him was far too green.
In that other future, by second year Harry would be soloing a thousand-year-old basilisk with a sword.
In this life, Quirrell had actually taught some real curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts. They should have been better than this.
"The whole reason you asked me to teach you magic," Theodore called, "was to learn magic."
"Just running around? That's P.E., not spellwork."
"Trust me, this kind of magical creature has almost infinite stamina. You will never outrun him."
"You need to think about what you learned in class. Fix your thoughts, hold your intent steady. If you can't stay calm in a crisis, even the most advanced spells are just pretty fireworks!"
They scattered, scrambling and gasping.
Ron was sprinting flat-out on his long legs and still had the breath to complain:
"Calm down, he says—easy for him! With a three-headed dog taller than the ceiling right behind you, who can stay calm?!"
Hermione, though, suddenly bit down on her lip, eyes burning.
From the moment she'd met Theodore, she'd been watching his back get further and further away from her.
Every time danger showed up, he was in front, and she could only stand behind him, useless.
The know-it-all queen had her own pride. She refused to be just another person needing protection.
She had to prove something—that she could at least keep up, that she wouldn't be left so far behind she couldn't even see his shadow.
"Focus. Concentrate…"
"My resolve… my will…"
Images of Theodore stepping in front of her flashed through her mind. Her gaze hardened. While running, she threw all of herself into a spell she'd been secretly practicing for ages.
"Protego!"
A translucent shield flared between Fluffy's raised paw and her.
Fluffy paused, eyes going curious, like a puppy seeing a soap bubble for the first time. Then he prodded the Shield Charm with his claw and popped it with a lazy swipe.
But that single pause was enough for the others to drag in a few lifesaving breaths.
Harry inhaled sharply and clenched his wand.
He'd already decided a while ago that he was suited for a spell that knocked away an enemy's weapon. With Hermione's help, he'd found one that felt right in his hands.
"Expelliarmus!"
Red light blasted from his wand and hit Fluffy's foreleg.
Fluffy's paw twitched twice.
Ron finally skidded to a halt.
He still hadn't figured out what spell suited him best, but he had learned a dozen different ways to use the Exploding Charm from Seamus.
"Bombarda!"
Firecrackers of sparks went off along Fluffy's paw. The three-headed dog bared all his teeth in a grin and began playing with the explosions, fascinated.
At that exact moment, Neville yelled:
"Episkey!"
A soft glow washed over Fluffy, "healing" his nonexistent wounds.
It felt great.
Refreshed and invigorated, Fluffy's energy only climbed higher.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all turned to stare at Neville.
"Neville?"
"You're healing it?!"
Neville's face went scarlet.
"I—I've been practicing that spell this whole time. I just used it without thinking…"
"What do we do now?"
Hermione heaved a deep, miserable sigh.
"What else?"
"Run!"
Half an hour later, they were sprawled on the floor like overcooked noodles.
They swore they had never run so fast—or so long—in their entire lives.
For Fluffy, though, this was barely the warm-up before a walk.
He still wanted more.
Theodore wasn't completely heartless. If he pushed them any further, Neville—who had the worst stamina—might actually drop dead.
He finally raised his hand to stop Fluffy and sent the three-headed dog to curl up obediently in a corner.
Then he walked over to Harry and the others, smiled, and said:
"You really opened my eyes. Half an hour of running, and the spells you actually managed to cast can be counted on one hand."
They flushed with shame.
Then Theodore pulled each of them up by the arm.
"But honestly, that's not bad at all."
"At least you did cast something. And none of you actually got your legs bitten off. Plenty of 'powerful' adult wizards couldn't manage that much."
"All right, on your feet. After heavy exercise it's better to stand for a bit, don't just lie there."
Neville's eyes were already brimming.
Ron was panting so hard he could barely speak.
"Merlin above, Theodore, this is the craziest thing I've ever done in my life."
"When we get back, I'm definitely bragging to Seamus when he's out of detention. And to Fred and George. They'd never dream I could walk a three-headed dog for half an hour!"
Theodore nodded solemnly.
"Mhm. I fully understand how you feel, Ron."
"But it's only been half an hour. You asked me to train you. If you go home now, that'd be a bit early, don't you think?"
"All right, that's it for the tutorial experience."
"Time for level two."
Their expressions changed instantly.
There was more after the three-headed dog?
What was this, attempted murder?
Ron went sheet-white and shook his head again and again.
"No, Theodore. No way, absolutely n—"
He didn't get to finish.
One more round of Stunners, and the world went black.
When they came to, they were being constricted by ropes of something cold and damp.
The vines were already creeping up over their limbs and chests like massive snakes.
"What is this?!" Harry yelled.
Neville blurted:
"Devil's Snare! It's a dangerous plant!"
"It'll strangle us to death and suck our bodies dry!"
Ron's voice went shrill.
"I didn't need to know how we're going to die!"
"Just let it happen!"
Harry shouted over him.
"Neville—the weakness! What's Devil's Snare weak to?!"
"The dark and damp make it strong—it hates the light and warmth!" Neville cried. "Use fire!"
The moment he said it, flames began to blossom from the tip of Hermione's wand, driving the Devil's Snare back from around her.
She moved to cast at the sections holding the boys—but her next burning hex hung in mid-air, then gently fizzled out under Theodore's casual finger-flick.
"Hermione," he said, "there are some basics they have to master on their own."
"If this is training, they need to handle it."
"And before you rush to save people, it might be best to look at your own surroundings first."
She turned toward the glow of her own fire—and went pale.
Around her were rows of massive Biting Cabbages, jaws opening and closing with a constant clack-clack of teeth.
Theodore flashed a grin.
"If you don't want to end up stir-fried, you'd better work hard."
The Biting Cabbages seemed to hear him, and every leaf on their heads quivered.
They frantically stretched their vines out of their pots, using them like stilts.
Incredibly, they began to push off the floor and slide themselves toward Hermione.
She suddenly realized: their pots had been fitted with little swivel casters on the bottom.
Who did this?!
Who was born so wicked and bored that they'd turn Biting Cabbages into mobile predators?!
Seeing the ring of Cabbages closing in, her face went green.
"Protego! Protego!"
Her shields flickered as she ducked and dodged, Cabbages snapping at her robes.
Watching all this, Ron swallowed hard.
"If it were up to me," he whispered, "I'd pick the Devil's Snare over getting eaten by those any day."
"At least you get to live a bit longer…"
Theodore shook his head.
"No, no, no. If I were you, I wouldn't think like that."
"Friendly reminder: the Devil's Snare in here has a little surprise baked in."
"The longer you let it hold onto you, the more 'friends' it releases from inside."
"Let's see… what did I plant in there again?"
"Snakes, toads, centipedes… oh, right, and nice big fluffy spiders about the size of a human head."
"Anyone here afraid of spiders?"
Ron's pupils dilated. He began thrashing like mad.
"Theodore, I hate you. I hate you!"
"You're a demon! A monster!"
Theodore just laughed.
"Time's just about up."
"Either cast your fire charms properly, or you can get to know the little cuties in there up close."
Later that night, after they'd finally been tossed back into the Gryffindor common room, all four of them sat in a daze.
Their injuries were healed—Theodore had taken care of that—but a phantom ache and bone-deep exhaustion remained. The memory of fear was so fresh that the idea of quitting hovered on all their tongues.
"This is too hard," someone muttered.
"We'll never beat a three-headed dog."
"And the Devil's Snare. And the Biting Cabbages…"
Even Harry's expression twisted.
"And that broom level," he said through gritted teeth. "Whose idea was it to make so many forks on the route, and then give us that little time to finish?"
"As if that wasn't enough, there were traps, a maze—"
"And the worst part is never knowing if there's a suit of armour around the next turn waiting to stab you in the back after being Transfigured!"
The whole night had been one long beating.
"…Maybe we should talk to Theodore," Ron suggested weakly. "Ask if he can train us some other way?"
But after a long silence, Hermione bit down so hard her lips almost bled. Her voice came out rough.
"You want to give up already?"
"Have you thought about something?"
She looked from one face to another.
"Fluffy, the Devil's Snare, the Biting Cabbages… Theodore has already dealt with all of them."
"You saw how obedient Fluffy is with him."
"That means he's almost certainly gone through everything we're going through now. He's finished these levels—and probably did it better than any of us."
"And these probably weren't even the worst trials he's faced."
"We feel miserable now, but what about Theodore? The hardship he's eaten is probably ten or a hundred times what we're going through."
"And we can't even bear this?"
"Then what right do we have to talk about helping him?"
Her words left them all silent and ashamed.
Ron clenched his fists, eyes full of complicated emotion.
Every time Theodore came back to the dorm so late… had he been going through all that first?
And then not a single complaint—just calmly teaching Ron wizard's chess, just quietly handling everything else that needed doing.
"Theodore… how much are you carrying?" Ron whispered.
Then he slammed his hand on the table.
"I take back what I said before."
"So there's a little danger. A few tests. So what?"
"Who are we? We're Gryffindor."
"Since when are we afraid of adventure?"
Harry pushed himself to his feet.
"Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow, we go again."
Neville raised his wand and cast a few more Healing Charms, flushing.
"I held you back today. I'll do my best to keep everyone patched up. Tomorrow I'll go ask Professor Sprout for some dittany. That'll help even more."
Hermione nodded.
"Tomorrow, we can't perform like we did today."
"Theodore's already shouldering too much. He works too hard…"
Their eyes firmed, like soldiers steeling themselves for the battlefield. Dragging their exhausted bodies, they headed back to their dorms, trying to squeeze every minute they could from the night.
Meanwhile, lines of text rolled across Theodore's system panel.
[ In the Flooded Wilds you lead young Nezha, young Lei Zhenzi and the others into the Southern Pole Immortal's killing formations. When the formations open, murderous intent fills the sky, blotting out sun and moon; they emerge soaked in sweat, white-faced and shaken. ]
[ But remembering your unmatched elegance as you faced these same formations, their hearts burn with renewed resolve, as if they can sense your invincible Dao heart. ]
[ Hearing that you enter the Demon-Slaying Pits every day, never resting, they realize that such a Dao heart could only be forged by endless struggle. ]
[ Spirits stirred, their battle intent rises. ]
[ So what if they are killing arrays of the Flooded Wilds? They are but a little wind and frost, mere fodder to temper a cultivator's heart. ]
[ We cultivators stand before the Great Tribulation. What have we to fear from battle?! ]
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