For Neil, the impact of discovering that the centuries-old spells of his hometown was renaissance in the British Isles were almost comparable to the first time he heard that Dumbledore had allowed Quirrell to roam freely in school even though he knew what was on the back of his head.

"Damn! I've never heard of a troll being used as a corpse golem - I mean, did they think about how they were going to control it afterwards?" He cursed, and put his sword back between the trolls and Snape, "Go first, Professor! Leave this guy alone, we don't have time to spend time with him - go, run straight to the door, I'll cover you!"

Snape hesitated, he had noticed that magic didn't work well on the strange troll, but whether it was turning and running away in front of a stinking corpse, or leaving a child for his temple, his pride burned violently.

Not hearing movement behind him, Neil glanced back at him quickly.

"Listen, Professor, I hate to say that, but we really don't have time. The corpse golem is very, very, very tough, and at this rate, this guy can play with us until tomorrow morning - think about what's going on in the restricted area?"

Snape's expression twisted violently.

"Doesn't it have a weakness?" He asked in a low voice with a stiff face.

Neil smiled bitterly and shook his head, "As it stands, you shouldn't have it."

Snape seemed to waver, but he looked at Neil's emaciated shoulders and stood still. It took a while for a sentence to come out between his teeth, "You can't leave alone."

This seemed to be the limit of the kindness he could unleash, and even one more word would make him want to pull his tongue out and chop it off.

"Good intentions, Professor, but I seem to have to stay alone...... Wait!" Neil shrugged his shoulders and calmly refused. But in the middle of his words, he suddenly changed his words, and jerked his head back to look down the corridor in the distance as if he had noticed something, "Wait a minute, Professor—I don't seem to be alone."

Snape frowned, and just as he could speak, a dark shadow whizzed over his head, flying straight for the troll's head. The troll wordlessly raised its club and swung it at it, but instead it didn't hit, and instead was hit hard by the black shadow, and it staggered back two steps.

"Aha, Matt, my good Matt! You're here just in time!" It wasn't until he heard the exaggerated flattery and cheers of the Neal drama actor that Snape realized what the shadow really was, "Is there a more faithful and reliable companion in the world than you? Pagasus will be dwarfed!"

Unfortunately, the broomstick didn't seem to eat him, and it flew around the troll twice, dodging its grip on its palm, and then turned around and slammed its broom stick on the tip of the opponent's nose, smashing the dysfunctional nose into a ball of meat sauce.

"How is it ......?"

The fact that his magic wasn't as effective as a broomstick made Snape almost jump, but this time Neil interrupted him loudly before he could finish speaking.

"No, that's too long, if you're interested, we can spend a day alone drinking tea and chatting - okay, okay, I know you don't want to, don't look at me with that expression! Now, go away while its attention is all on Matt!"

By the time Harry and the others entered the forbidden corridor, the big dog Luffie had fallen asleep on the ground, and the loud shaking of the ground when Hagrid collided with the troll outside didn't seem to disturb it at all. In front of it lay a harp that was still making a sound but no one was playing, and a small pile of shards of unclear grass or confetti, and the trapdoor was open next to its massive claws, and it seemed that whoever the thief was, had passed through.

The three of them tiptoed over, and as they approached the three huge heads, they could feel the hot, smelly smell of the big dog.

"I think we can get over." Ron said, carefully looking at the big dog's slightly undulating back in his sleep, "Hermione, ladies first, would you like to be the first to go down?"

"No, I don't!" Hermione replied sharply, "You only think of damn women when you're making excuses

Taxi priority!"

"Okay." Ron gritted his teeth (he was really surprised) and carefully stepped over the big dog's lap and craned his neck to look under the open hole.

"What do you see?"

"There was nothing to see—it was pitch black—there was no ladder to go down, so we had to jump."

Harry crawled over the big dog and looked down through the hole. As Ron puts it, there's no bottom down there.

"Okay." He said, "I'll be the first to go down."

He slowly slid down the hole, finally holding on to the edge of the hole with only ten fingers. He looked up at Ron and said, "If something happens to me, don't come down with you, go straight to the owl's hut and send Hedwig to deliver a message to Dumbledore, okay?"

"Okay." Ron blinked and said with some difficulty.

"See you later...... I hope." He added in a pessimistic tone.

Harry let go of his hand, cold, damp air whirring in his ears. He fell down, fell, fell, and then - plopped! With a strange, dull thud, Harry landed on top of something soft. He sat up and groped around. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dim light of the place, but he felt as if he was sitting on top of some kind of plant—sticky and slippery, but not as if in danger, at least not like the cannibal lichen in a greenhouse, which opened countless hidden, tiny, fanged mouths to try to tear flesh out of him the moment he landed. jj.br>

"No problem!" He shouted at the entrance of the cave, "There's something underneath for you to jump!"

Ron jumped down and landed on all fours beside Harry.

"What is this?" He asked as soon as he opened his mouth.

"I don't know, it looks like a plant. Probably laid here to mitigate collisions in the event of a fall. Come on, Hermione!"

Hermione seemed to hesitate for a moment, but eventually with a third muffled sound, she landed on Harry's other side as well.

"We must be far, far away from school." She looked left and right and said.

"Honestly, it's good to have this bunch of plants here." Ron said, kicking the wet pile at his feet.

"Thankfully!" Hermione suddenly screamed, her eyes just beginning to adjust to the darkness, and the first thing she saw was the legs of the two of them tangled in slender vines, "Look at you two!"

She jumped to her feet, struggling to move towards a damp wall, trying to break free from the snake-like tendrils that were trying to wrap around her ankles, finally escaping before the vines could hold her firmly. Seeing this, the two boys also tried desperately to tear off the vines from their bodies, but they were already wrapped too tightly, and the more they broke free, the more and tighter the vines became entangled.

"Don't move!" Hermione shouted at them, "I know what this is—it's the Devil's Web!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we finally know what it's called, and that helps us a lot." Ron huffed, dodging backwards to keep the vines from wrapping around his neck, "Can you help engrave this on our tombstone?" Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who died in late 1991 from a plant called the Devil's Web, are grateful to their friend Miss Granger for telling them the name of the plant at the last minute, allowing them to die blindly."

"Shut up, I'm thinking about how to deal with them!" Hermione snapped.

"Then please think about it quickly, I'm out of breath!" Harry shouted, desperately pulling at the vine that was going to wrap around his chest.

"Devil's Net, Devil's Net......" However, Hermione seemed to have entered her own world, isolated from the world, and did not hear his cries for help. She closed her eyes and whispered the mantra she had learned in her herbology class, "What did Professor Sprout say? Say it likes darkness and dampness—"

"Then set it on fire!" Harry was almost suffocating.

"yes—of course you can—but there's no firewood here!" Hermione exclaimed, stomping her foot anxiously.

"Firewood? Are you crazy?

！」 Ron roared, his eyes bulging out, "Are you a witch or not?"

"Oh, yes!" Hermione blushed, drew her wand, and waved it thoughtfully, causing a burst of fire to erupt from her wand's head. In a matter of seconds, Harry and Ron felt the power of the vines entwining them begin to wane. The devil's web twisted wildly, loosening the tendrils that had wrapped around them and retreating into the darkness, where the two of them were finally fully free, breathing as if they were (probably) the rest of their lives.

"I'm glad you listened carefully in your herb class, Hermione." Harry followed her example and retreated to the wall—though it didn't seem necessary now—wiping the sweat from his face, "I've been watching those mandrakes ballroom dancing for the last few classes."

"yes," Ron said, rolling his eyes, mimicking Hermione's tone vividly, "and thankfully Harry didn't panic like you at the critical moment—"But there's no firewood here", what do you call that?" Neil would have laughed and jumped from the window on the eighth floor if he had seen that scene."

"If you dare to tell him this, you're dead." Hermione glared at him, but didn't deny that she had just said something stupid.

"This way." Harry didn't smile, he pointed to the stone hallway that stretched deep ahead. This is the only way to go.

The three of them followed one after the other, and no one spoke for a while. The corridor descended downhill, reminding Harry of Gringotts. His heart throbbed, and he remembered the dragons who were said to be guarding the vaults of the Wizard's Bank...... Then he remembered the dragon egg that Hagrid had stolen, and his fear was replaced by annoyance.

Not knowing what Hagrid was going to do with it in the end, he thought.

"Can you hear anything?" Ron asked in a whisper.

Harry listened. There seemed to be a soft rustle and clanging sound ahead.

"I don't know...... It seems like the sound of wings flapping?" He always thought it was familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it.

"There's a light ahead—I see something moving."

They came to the end of the hallway, and in front of them was a brightly lit room with a high vaulted ceiling. Countless small birds that were as brilliant as jewels flapped their wings and flew around the room. For a moment, Harry thought of the eagle-shaped brooches that Ravenclaw students had been wearing lately, jumping down from a long run to watch while their master was writing papers, pointing out spelling and grammatical mistakes from time to time, and punishing anyone with their sharp beaks and claws if they tried to copy someone else's work......

There is a heavy wooden door opposite the room. Ron asked, pointing at it.

"Do you say they're going to attack us if we pass through the room?"

"Possibly." Harry said that what Neil called "the noble Gryffindor-style reckless spirit" was burning in his heart, "They don't seem to be vicious, but if they all rush at once, I'm afraid ...... Whatever, there's no other way anyway, so I'll run over."

He took a deep breath, shielded his face with his arm, and sped to the other end of the room. He thought that at any moment there would be a sharp mouth and claws to tear him apart, but he was safe. Unscathed, he came to the door and pulled the handle, which was locked.

Ron and Hermione followed. They pulled and pushed together, but the wooden door didn't move, and Hermione tried her Alaho Cave Spell again, to no avail.

"What should I do?" Ron asked.

"These birds...... They can't just be used for decoration." Hermione said. The three of them watched as the birds flew around overhead, shining...... Glitter?

"They're not birds at all!" Harry patted his head, and he suddenly remembered where he had heard something like this - at the Quidditch pitch, his daily practice was to run after the butt of a golden gadget that was about the same size as them, "They're the keys!" The key with wings—take a closer look!"

Ron and Hermione stared up at the flying swarm of keys, while Harry did

Looking around the room, he was inspired by the idea of the Golden Snitch – and sure enough, there was a row of broomsticks on the shelves by the wall.

"Yes, you see! Broom! We must go up and get the key to that door!"

"But there are hundreds of keys up there!"

Ron looked closely at the lock on the door.

"Well, we think we're looking for a big key, the old one."

Hermione tugged at his sleeve silently.

「…… Silver, it might be, and as for the shape—what, Hermione, I'm busy."

"Do you see the cracked one that fell on the ground?"

Harry, who had come back from the shelves and picked up three broomsticks, froze.