The Trapdoor Challenge on Hell Difficulty

Even someone accustomed to delicacies might occasionally find cabbage and tofu delicious, but would never be so fond of strong flavors as to think swill is tasty.

If you know someone like this, our advice is to take them to a mental hospital as soon as possible. Don't delay treatment!

Although Qiu's singing voice hasn't reached the level of "delicacies," it still carries a youthful joy and innocence, giving it a unique charm.

In Cedric's words, "Aww is more than qualified to be the lead singer in the pop group ' The Mischievous Goblin '."

Don't take what sycophants say too seriously. They're good at using exaggeration to make something that's only two or three points sound like eight or nine points. Some even go so far as to turn a tank into a fairy...

Fortunately, he didn't exaggerate this time; Qiu's singing voice is indeed beautiful.

If you let a Cerberus get used to Autumn's song, and then it tries to listen to Hagrid roar without even a melody, it'll be so scared it won't be able to sleep, it'll be scared out of its wits.

We have to come to the conclusion that Hagrid was clearly drunk and was bragging a lot at the drinking party.

Boasting isn't illegal, but his behavior has caused Quirrell a lot of trouble.

Fluffy, who had been feeling drowsy, was now fully awake, completely so, and even more engrossed in the music.

It stared at Quirrell, roared, and charged forward, baring its teeth and claws.

Before Quirrell could react, he fell backward to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his chest.

Fluffy bit Quirrell's head and dragged his body around on the ground like a toy.

At that moment, Quirrell felt like dying. It wasn't that he didn't want to resist, but that the beast had knocked his wand away with a single swipe of its claw.

The worst part is that Fluffy never brushes his teeth, and the smell in his mouth almost suffocates him!

Even Voldemort, who had fallen into a deep sleep, was awakened once again.

He was completely bewildered; what did this mean?

Just twenty minutes ago he was displaying his prowess in the Forbidden Forest, going toe-to-toe with Dumbledore, but in the blink of an eye, even a dog can bully him!

Quirrell... you're an undercover agent, aren't you?!

No matter how much Voldemort cursed, Quirrell remained motionless, Fluffy quickly lost interest.

After it got tired of playing with it, it dragged the "toy" a distance and then threw it in the corner like trash.

Hagrid, that scheming bitch, actually knows how to use tricks to set traps!

Fortunately, Voldemort wasn't one to be trifled with. He roared, "Fool, food!"

This is Plan B.

That's the food Hagrid usually eats.

The food they referred to was a string of cured meat hanging from Hagrid's eaves, which was imbued with Hagrid's flavor.

Cerberus won't eat food from strangers, but it will definitely eat food that smells like Hagrid.

Quirrell shakily got up from the ground, took out some cured meat from his pocket, and threw it into the distance.

He mixed in a large amount of powerful sleeping pills; even a fire dragon would fall asleep after eating it. I bet Fluffy wouldn't.

Smelling Hagrid's scent, Fluffy rushed over, picked up a piece of cured meat from the ground, and swallowed it whole.

A moment later, Fluffy seemed to have drunk some kind of fake alcohol, staggering and finally collapsing to the ground.

Quirrell wiped the blood from his face and quickly opened the trapdoor; it was pitch black inside.

"Has the investigation been completed?" Voldemort asked, still uneasy.

Quirrell laughed, "The investigation is complete, Master. What's placed underneath is Sprout's Devil's Snare, just to give people a buffer."

Don't worry, I'm an expert at dealing with this kind of plant!

After saying that, Quirrell didn't think twice and jumped off, beginning his freefall.

About two seconds later, there was a loud "smack"!

Immediately following, Quirrell's heart-wrenching screams rang out.

Ahhhhh~

There was no Devil's Snare, no pool, and no trampoline on the ground; only a cold marble floor and a pool of warm blood left from a fall.

"I broke my leg," Quirrell whimpered, clutching his left leg.

If Quirrell is good at physics, he could calculate that he fell from a height of nearly twenty meters.

He jumped from such a height and didn't die, only breaking his left leg. I have to say... Merlin really took good care of him!

"Fool!" Voldemort roared, "Didn't you say there was Devil's Snare down there?"

Quirrell sobbed, pleading in anguish, "Master, let's go back? Please..."

"Hurry, we're here! The Philosopher's Stone is just ahead!" Voldemort said sternly. "Take the Philosopher's Stone, and I'll grant you eternal life!"

"But... my left leg is broken," Quirrell wailed.

"Use the recovery potion quickly!"

Quirrell's wand lit up, illuminating the entire space below, and he glimpsed two lines of text on the wall:

Guess who I am?

It was followed by the Slytherin symbol.

--Snape was here!

Quirrell angrily retorted, "It must have been Snape who stole the Devil's Snare."

I had heard from Sprout that Snape was incredibly stingy and always wanted to take the best stuff back to his medicine pantry.

That damned bastard!

I should have killed him when I knocked him unconscious.

It turned out that Quirrell had knocked Professor Snape unconscious and hung him from a tree in the Forbidden Forest.

Cursing, Quirrell quickly pulled out Potions from his pocket and applied it to the wound.

However, Fluffy ' teeth contained toxins, rendering recovery agents useless for this type of injury, and they could not heal his broken left leg.

After an unknown amount of time, Quirrell, dragging one leg, slowly walked towards the next room.

He soon entered a brightly lit room, where countless keys, as dazzling as jewels, Accio.

Quirrell found a few brooms in the corner.

He stared at the broom, speechless. It was Comet 250 that the school had discarded!

Is this thing even meant for people to ride?

But having something to ride is better than having nothing to ride at all, especially since he's lost a leg, and this thing comes in handy.

Quirrell, riding his broom, pushed off with his right foot, rising into the air and charging into the dense array of keys.

During his school days, Quirrell was not a member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team, but he was actually a hidden king.

He's just low-key and doesn't like to show off!

It's time to show his true skills. Believe it or not, he can grab that key in a minute!

Quirrell rushed straight in as if flying.

"Ah!"

He screamed in pain the instant he hit the keys.

"It burned me!" Quirrell groaned, sucking on his blistered fingers.

"Who cast the Fire-Making Spell?!" Voldemort roared in fury.

"It must be that damn shorty Flitwick!" Quirrell cursed in despair.

He quickly noticed something unusual in his field of vision.

The key he had just touched suddenly produced more than twenty other keys that shot out into the air.

Previously, the keys flew in mid-air without ever touching other keys. Suddenly, more than twenty keys appeared, squeezing out the other keys and then continuing to duplicate them.

It's like a nesting doll.

"They even added Doubling Charm?!"

Quirrell politely greeted Professor Flitwick's extended family.

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