Harley was making her way calmly and steadily through the fifth level of the Maze.
She had no idea what hardships the Champions below were going through, and even if she had known, she wouldn't have cared much.
What did they expect when their magic was so poor? If you were bad, you had to lie back and accept the mockery, not act like a shockwave and blame everyone else every day.
After casually taking out two Acromantulas that had tried to attack her with an Aguamenti followed by a Freezing Spell, Harley couldn't help sighing.
"What on earth are Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic up to? Why is the Maze full of Ghouls, Swallow-tailed Dogs, swarms of Billywigs, or Fire Crabs that Hagrid has squeezed dry?"
"The most dangerous creatures I've run into are harmless little darlings like Acromantulas."
"What happened to Hagrid's Manticore, the victim of all that inhumane treatment? What about the Nundus in the Forbidden Forest? And those Pukwudgies that keep provoking the Centaurs?"
"If the Ministry of Magic is really short on work, Newt is still wandering around the British Isles, isn't he? Go borrow some dangerous Fantastic Beasts from the old man!"
"Damn it, this Six-Wizard Tournament isn't any fun at all!"
"Wait..."
Harley suddenly stopped and looked with interest at the fork in the path ahead.
From the direction her Magic Mirror's Divination had identified as the right route came the smell of sulfur and rotting meat.
"Blast-Ended Skrewts?" Harley tilted her head toward the path, thinking of the pets Hagrid had raised.
Those "little darlings" had inherited the "best qualities" of both their parents: they had no brains, were physically powerful, had high resistance to magic, and were naturally quite lethal. They were also extremely short-tempered.
Hagrid had once raised more