Chapter 47: Devil's Snare
Chapter 47: Devil's Snare
In Herbology class, Professor Sprout presented an array of plants and fungi, offering a fascinating glimpse into the magical world of botany. Among the intriguing specimens was the Guarding Tree, a charmed rowan tree capable of protecting those who touch its trunk from dark creatures. Its magical properties made it a favored choice for witches and wizards seeking protective amulets.
Professor Sprout also took the time to caution the class about dangerous plants, such as the highly toxic and menacing Tentacula and the deadly Mandrake, whose cries could be fatal. But it was the small pot containing a young Devil's Snare that truly captured everyone's attention.
"This is a young Devil's Snare," Professor Sprout explained, gently touching the plant's tender sprout with her wand. Immediately, the sprout unfurled tendrils that wrapped around her wand. "As you can see, Devil's Snare ensnares anything that comes close. Once it reaches a certain stage of growth, it can easily injure or kill. If you ever find yourself entangled in Devil's Snare, remember not to struggle, or the vines will only tighten their grip."
With a slight flick of her wand, Professor Sprout demonstrated the distinctive characteristics of the plant, ensuring that everyone understood its dangers. "Devil's Snare thrives in dark and damp environments," she continued. "Its natural enemy is light and warmth." She directed her wand, and a tiny flame sprang forth, causing the Devil's Snare to recoil instantly. "As you can see, fire poses a threat to it. Should you ever encounter an attack by Devil's Snare, lighting a fire can be an effective means of repelling it."
As the students eagerly took notes with their quills, Professor Sprout patiently waited until they were finished before continuing. "It's important to note that Devil's Snare can be mistaken for Crabbe, another plant. Be sure to keep this in mind..."
The Herbology class proved to be immensely informative as Professor Sprout introduced a wide variety of magical plants, enriching the knowledge of all in attendance. Soon, the class became a favorite among students, despite the minor inconvenience of having two consecutive lessons, resulting in lengthy standing sessions that left their legs feeling numb.
Finally, the long-awaited dismissal bell rang, bringing relief to most students.
Much to everyone's delight, Professor Sprout did not assign any homework.
"We have Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the afternoon," Jordan Lee remarked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. Like most first-year students, he eagerly anticipated this particular class.
As they left Greenhouse One, George turned to the other three and said, "Did you guys hear about the Defense Against the Dark Arts class being cursed? The professor teaching it always ends up having all sorts of bad luck, and they resign every year. No one has lasted more than a year."
"Cursed," Albert acknowledged, already aware of the reason behind it.
The curse, as they knew, was the doing of Voldemort—the same Tom who shared his name with their cat, the Dark Lord himself.
It was said that after being rejected for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Tom had nursed a grudge and placed a curse on the position, intending to weed out potential professors and force Dumbledore into a compromise.
"Yeah, that's what I heard too," George continued. "Apparently, a powerful wizard cursed the position, or else Professor Dumbledore would have lifted the curse by now."
The fact that the curse had persisted for decades was a testament to the caster's formidable power.
"All we can do now is hope that our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is up to the task," Albert said as they walked.
Just then, they turned a corner and were assaulted by a putrid stench. In that moment, they also caught sight of Filch apprehending a third-year Gryffindor student who had been throwing dung bombs down the corridor.
"What's going on here?" Albert asked, covering his mouth and nose with his hand as he addressed a nearby student.
"That guy lost a bet, and now he has to throw dung bombs in front of Filch," the older student replied with a shake of his head before walking away. The smell of the dung bombs was simply too overwhelming, akin to a biological stink bomb.
"That's just plain crazy!" Albert shook his head in disbelief. For some reason, he felt a twinge of sympathy for Filch, imagining how exhausted he must feel dealing with such situations.
"That's so cool!" The twins' eyes lit up with excitement, eager to replicate the daring act and witness Filch's furious reaction.
Albert coughed gently into his hand and said, "Ahem, are you two planning on volunteering to scrub bedpans in the hospital wing as well?"
The Weasley twins, who had been enthusiastic a moment ago, suddenly deflated at the mention of scrubbing bedpans. "Well, as long as we don't get caught, it should be fine," Jordan offered.
"With your current skill level, not getting caught might be a challenge," Albert added, dousing their enthusiasm with a dose of reality. "Unless, of course, you want to follow in that crazy guy's footsteps."
On their way back to the Great Hall for lunch, the twins remained uncharacteristically silent, deep in thought about something.
"We've made a decision," they announced in unison, their eyes locked in mutual understanding.
"A decision about what?" Albert asked, looking up in confusion.
"We've decided to go through with it," the twins replied in perfect harmony.
"Go through with what?"
"Throwing dung bombs into Filch's office," they stated matter-of-factly.
Albert nearly choked on his mouthful of pumpkin juice, barely managing to avoid spraying it on the twins' faces. "Cough, cough," he sputtered, covering his mouth.
Jordan, standing beside him, also gaped, at a loss for words.
These two... they were truly something else! "If you're serious about doing this," Albert said after a moment's thought, "I might be able to offer some... minor suggestions. But I haven't thought of anything yet."
"Hey, what's with you too..." Jordan shook his head, finally understanding why Albert had been sorted into Gryffindor.
This guy had guts! Changing the subject, Jordan asked, "By the way, I'm curious how you can eat so much at lunch when you had breakfast so early."
"Are you kidding me?" Albert rolled his eyes at Jordan. "I had breakfast at seven, unlike you guys who ate at half-past eight or later."
With the busy morning schedule, British breakfasts tended to be more substantial, leaving one less hungry by lunchtime. Some people even skipped lunch altogether.
"So, how should we prank Filch?" the twins asked, their minds already racing with ideas.
"Just don't go overboard, but make sure he gets good and angry," Albert replied, glancing at a particular student in the corner of the long table who had just been released from detention and was now surrounded by curious classmates.
Even Lee, who had just finished eating, joined the crowd to satisfy his curiosity. Excessive curiosity, it seemed, was a kind of disease.
"Yes," the twins agreed, nodding vigorously.
"Have you two prepared yourselves for the possibility of detention?" Albert asked.
"Yes!" they replied in unison, their determination unwavering.
(End of Chapter)
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