https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-266-The-Girl-Is-Called-Moaning-Myrtle/13685160/
Chapter 267: You Must First Know What You're Facing
Although he had Dumbledore’s support, Wade didn’t act right away. He waited patiently until all the students inside the castle had finished their exams, then watched the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match—the season’s grand finale.
Though Wade had little interest in Quidditch, the entire school had turned out. Anyone with free time had rushed to gather. Ravenclaw fought hard, and several players were injured due to the speed of the game—too fast for their reflexes.
But talent could be faked. Strength couldn’t.
Last year’s standout players had already graduated, and the replacements gave it their all, yet still lost.
The Gryffindor students erupted in cheers. The Ravenclaw team managed to keep their composure, offering polite congratulations to the champions.
“Thanks, you played brilliantly!” Wood beamed, his teeth flashing as he raised his thumb.
Roger, Ravenclaw’s captain, merely sneered, his smile cold and hollow.
While Gryffindor still celebrated on the pitch, students from other houses began filing back toward the castle—especially Slytherin, who left first.
And so, as everyone returned, they found the Great Hall blocked again. A crowd of Serpent House students stood beneath the noticeboard, staring up at a fresh announcement:
---
【June Challenge】
Not long ago, Hogwarts’ champions defeated the Giant Ball Python, proving their strength and courage.
But—was it real?
We all know the Ball Python is a docile creature, and the Professor was always watching.
Fighting the Ball Python was like cutting a cake under a mother’s watchful eye—utterly safe.
Are you brave enough to face a truly dangerous creature?
Can you stand firm before Death itself?
Do you wish to know the true limits of your magic?
This is an elite challenge for only the strongest and most fearless. Danger is real. Death is possible.
Warning: Cowards need not apply!
Interested participants: Gather in the third-floor empty classroom tonight at 10 PM. Form teams freely—no limits on group size.
All challengers will work as a cooperative unit.
Note: Participants must meet the following conditions:
1. Have reached the finals of the May Challenge.
2. Master the Shield Charm, Obstacle Spell, Petrificus Totalus…
(A long list of spell names followed.)
The word “Warning” was heavily emphasized—larger, bolder, and highlighted with key points.
Who would admit to being a coward?
Everyone who met the criteria shouted their commitment to participate. Even a few students who hadn’t yet mastered all the required spells skipped dinner and sprinted off to study.
By the time Gryffindor returned, the victory celebration had already faded from everyone’s minds.
Neither the Slytherins nor their own housemates were talking about Quidditch anymore. Instead, all eyes were fixed on the Great Hall’s noticeboard.
Back at the Long Table, while Wood still clung to his Quidditch cup, everyone else had already switched topics.
“Hogwarts is getting cooler by the day,” Fred said, grinning. “I thought after the match, we’d just be stuck watching academic results and packing up for home.”
“Academic results are an adventure too,” George said, folding his hands under his chin. “But I’d rather go for this.”
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Dangerous creatures… what could they be?”
“Maybe a centipede as big as a serpent?” Harry guessed.
“Or a whole swarm of spiders the size of houses!” Fred winked at his younger brother. “Right, little Ron?”
“Spiders?!” Ron yelped, turning pale as he rushed over. “What—spiders?!?”
“Exactly,” Fred said, his face as dark and serious as a ghost. “They’ll pounce out of the horn at you—completely unprepared—just like that.”
George, who’d slipped quietly from his seat, suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Ron’s shoulders.
“AAAAAAHHHHHHH—!”
The Great Hall exploded into panic screams—followed by the Weasley Twins’ booming laughter.
The brothers were teasing their younger sibling, but the few students who caught the exchange spread the rumors like wildfire.
“Did you hear? It’s spiders!”
“We’ve fought through mazes full of them already—Hogwarts is seriously underestimating us!”
“The requirements are just for show. I could handle those spiders myself.”
Young wizards rubbed their hands together, eager and excited to prove their worth.
So when Harry and the others arrived at the third floor just after nine, they found the corridor packed—yet strangely quiet, despite the crowd.
Pushing through the dense mass was difficult. Harry followed Fred and George blindly, until suddenly the space ahead cleared—and he nearly stumbled.
A hand shot out and caught him.
“Thanks—” Harry started to say, breathless.
“Looks like the victorious Mr. Potter still misses the thrill of flying on a broomstick,” came a cold, strangely detached voice from above. “You’ve forgotten how to use your legs.”
Harry froze. Slowly, he looked up—and there, standing before him, was the last person he wanted to see.
Snape, dragged in to supervise, held a clipboard and scanned the crowd with a cold, hollow gaze. Without a word, the students parted like a tide, instantly clearing half a meter around him.
Only Harry remained, standing directly in front of the professor, subjected to that icy stare.
Beside him, the twins exchanged exaggerated signals—Be brave. You’ve got this.
Harry finally understood why the crowd was so large—and so silent.
He took a deep breath, bracing himself for confrontation.
“Professor,” he said, “I’m here to join the challenge.”
Snape’s expression remained pale and unreadable. He lifted one eyelid, gave Harry a single, dismissive glance—though he said nothing, Harry felt utterly, completely looked down upon.
His fists clenched involuntarily.
Then the professor spoke:
“Shield Charm.”
“What—oh! Right! Armor Up!”
Harry fumbled with his wand, but the spell came easily—familiar, practiced.
Snape nodded once, then stepped aside. “You may enter.”
Inside the empty classroom, Harry found an unfamiliar professor—older, with visible disabilities in both legs and one arm.
Harry struggled not to stare at the man’s crippled limbs, then whispered, “Professor?”
“Oh, Harry Potter!” Professor Kettleburn’s single functional hand clapped with excitement. “I was about to retire—thought I’d never get to teach you! But now, at the very end, I get this chance!”
“Uh… hello, Professor,” Harry said, awkwardly. “What do I need to do?”
“You must first know what you’re facing,” Kettleburn said. “If you feel fear… you still have one chance to back out.”
“Face… what?” Harry asked, confused.
“Well…” The old professor sighed. “A hundred-year-old companion. I can’t believe Hogwarts still hides something like this… My retirement report was submitted too soon.”
He raised his wand and pointed to the wall beside him.
Harry turned—and the blood in his veins froze.
Two eyes, amber-brown and piercing, stared back at him.
A presence so ancient, so heavy with danger, pressed against his chest.
(End of Chapter)
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