The camera shifts back to Hermione. She now looked every bit the adventurer, fully geared up, when she stepped out in front of Harry and Ron.
Ron couldn't help but complain:
"Come on, why are you dressed so weird? What's the point of all that?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You don't get it, do you? This is called a sense of ritual. How can you go on an adventure without wearing proper adventuring gear?"
"At least from where I'm standing, it just looks strange." Ron shrugged.
"Then maybe you ought to spend more time learning about the Muggle world," Hermione replied coolly.
Harry nodded in agreement. He actually thought Hermione's gear looked impressive—he even envied her a little. Sure, the Hogwarts robes were stylish, but they weren't exactly practical for running and fighting.
"Enough chit-chat. We're short on time. Let's get moving," Harry urged.
He couldn't shake the fear that if they delayed, Snape would make off with the Philosopher's Stone.
Meanwhile, the actual Snape, fast asleep in his office: Thanks, Potter. I didn't even know I could sleepwalk my way to stealing the Stone.
The trio reached the forbidden third-floor corridor. Pushing the door open, they saw Fluffy, the massive three-headed dog, lying there.
The noise from the door startled it—its heads were already beginning to stir.
"Not good!"
"Evanesco Musica!" Hermione cast quickly.
A harp shimmered into being out of thin air, strings gently plucked by unseen fingers. The soothing music lulled Fluffy back into slumber.
Sometimes it really pays to study broadly. Imagine if she'd had to play herself and hit all the wrong notes—would Fluffy really have been polite enough to go back to sleep?
Hermione silently thanked her old vocal coach.
"Come on, let's keep moving."
From the moment the adventure began, the little witch's excitement only grew. Even her stride was brisk, brimming with energy.
She went straight to the trapdoor, opened it, and without hesitation jumped into the darkness below.
Harry and Ron looked at each other in shock.
"Do we… go after her?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, but I'm terrified," Ron admitted, swallowing hard.
"Then we'll go together." Harry grabbed his hand and leapt before Ron could protest.
"AAAAAAAAH!"
Their screams echoed through the shaft until they landed on a thick bed of Devil's Snare.
Say what you would about the plant—it had great cushioning. The boys had dropped from the third floor without so much as a bruise.
The problem was, Devil's Snare wasn't content to be a mattress.
Sensing prey, the vines began to tighten, wrapping around them in a suffocating embrace.
"Don't struggle!" Hermione snapped. "It's a Devil's Snare. The more you fight, the tighter it gets. Stay still and it'll let go!"
Harry froze at once, limbs going slack. Sure enough, within seconds the vines loosened, dropping him safely beneath the tangled mat.
Ron, however, was panicking too much to listen.
Hermione sighed, raised her wand again.
"Incendio Maxima!"
Flames burst to life. Devil's Snare recoiled in terror, withdrawing its vines and letting Ron fall free.
He still kept screaming, though, thrashing about until Hermione very nearly hexed him with a Quietus.
"Enough! You're safe now."
The shouting stopped instantly. Ron patted himself all over, confirming that yes, he was in one piece.
Hermione and Harry had already turned away, heading for the next chamber.
"Wait for me!" Ron scrambled after them.
The third chamber buzzed with a strange droning. Looking up, they realized it wasn't insects or birds—it was keys.
Hundreds of winged, glittering keys fluttered about in the air.
At the far end of the chamber, a locked door stood waiting. Next to it leaned a broomstick. The test was obvious.
"Harry, this one's yours." Hermione gestured toward the broom.
Harry grinned. Of course. He grabbed the broomstick and kicked off into the air.
Meanwhile, in the Lands Between, Arthur was also astride a broom.
Ever since he'd gotten his hands on it, he hadn't gotten lost once. The model? None other than Harry's Nimbus 2000.
Still worried about durability, Arthur had even taken it to the blacksmith Hewg to reinforce it.
Hewg, eyeing yet another bizarre request, said nothing. From his perspective, it was just another weapon—why else would Arthur demand upgrades?
Thus was born the world's first broom that boosted magical attacks.
In testing, Arthur found that sitting on it allowed him to fire spells straight from the broom's nose like a mounted cannon.
Fighter jets had nothing on this thing.
Melina, watching from a Site of Grace, had been stunned: Since when did this land have magical contraptions like that? I want one!
Arthur now boasted freely: "Anyone down here who can't fly—trash."
Not long ago, he'd complained about the broom "pressing in the wrong place." But now? He had to admit—worth it. The reinforced saddle was as comfortable as a bicycle seat.
(Broom Company Employee: "Didn't you custom-order the luxury version for 1,888 galleons?"
Arthur: "Shut up! I'm just trying to praise Hewg here!")
From the sky, Arthur descended toward the Wailing Dunes behind Redmane Castle.
There, standing tall astride his scrawny horse, was none other than General Radahn.
Golden lion armor. A mane of blood-red hair.
Two massive swords in hand, each inscribed with runes of gravitational magic.
Officially, they were "Starscourge Greatswords."
Arthur just thought: Swords, blades—whatever. Guy's living the good life either way.
The tragedy was plain in his eyes—or rather, the lack of clarity. His gaze was clouded, his body reeking of Scarlet Rot.
Radahn was perhaps the mightiest of the demigods. His power was matched only by his colossal body, standing at nearly five meters tall.
His little horse, by contrast… might not even reach Arthur's height (as an adult, at least). Yet the beast carried him without being crushed.
Because Radahn had learned gravity magic just for that horse.
As he grew larger with age, he refused to abandon his steed. He traveled to Sellia to master gravitational sorcery—not for war, not for glory, but to lighten his own weight so his horse could still carry him.
(The horse: "Wow, thanks, boss! Did I ever say I wanted to keep charging into battles with you?")
But Radahn learned too well. His mastery went beyond weight—he held the very stars in place, sealing the skies.
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