HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

Draco shoved the key he had grabbed into the lock, and the roar of the gears echoed through the stone walls as the metal meshed with the keyhole.

Harry stood beside him, took a deep breath, grasped the doorknob, and pushed the door open.

The second room was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, but as soon as they stepped in, a sudden burst of magical flames illuminated the space as if it were daytime.

Five people stood around a huge chessboard, with black chess pieces in front of them, the pieces taller than themselves, and the soldiers' armor reflecting a chilling light.

At the other end of the room, facing them, were some white chess pieces.

Ron and Draco's eyes suddenly lit up.

"It's Wizard Chess!" Ron gasped, his voice trembling with excitement.

"It seems we need to become pawns," Draco said.

Ron walked up to a black knight and reached out to touch the knight's horse. Instantly, the stone came to life, the horse pawed at the ground, and the knight turned his helmeted head to look at Ron.

"There are exactly five of us, and we'll replace five pieces." Draco's eyes gleamed with excitement.

None of the three, including West, were very good at Wizard's Chess, so they stood still and waited for Ron and Draco to give them instructions.

"Alright, West will take the place of the bishop, and Hermione will take the place of the castle," Ron said, glancing at Draco, who quickly realized, "Harry and I will take the place of the Queen and the King? Not a bad arrangement."

"Yes," Ron said, "I'll be a knight."

The five men took their positions, and under the command of Ron and Draco, the bishop of West successfully killed the opposing king, securing victory.

With Holon and Draco shouting excitedly, the White King removed his crown and threw it at their feet.

The white pieces bowed and retreated, making way for a door.

The five people rushed through the door and walked down the next corridor.

West recalled the previous levels.

The Devil's Web was a test set by Professor Sprout, and the one who cast the spell on the key must have been Professor Flitwick; Professor McGonagall transformed the pieces, bringing them to life—so next, there's Quirrell and Professor Snape's magic.

Harry realized this and said it out loud.

They came to another door, and when they pushed it open, a stench hit them.

West cautiously raised his wand, only to see a giant with a swollen blood blister on its head, already unconscious.

Draco's back stiffened instantly. He covered his mouth and nose, took a half-step back, and bumped into Harry's arms. "Ugh...this is disgusting!"

"At least we don't have to fight trolls anymore." Harry's face was somewhat grim, clearly recalling the disgusting scenes of fighting trolls before.

Draco, looking disgusted, carefully stepped over the troll's thick legs. "Hurry up, I can't breathe!"

The five entered the last door—there was nothing scary there, only a table with seven crystal bottles of different shapes on it.

"Snape's magic," Harry said, "what should we do?"

The four men turned their gaze toward West.

West smiled helplessly and stepped forward first. After all five of them went inside, a purple flame rose up behind them, sealing the entrance.

At the same time, black flames erupted from the doorway leading to the front, trapping them inside.

"Look!" Hermione grabbed a roll of parchment from beside the bottle and began to read:

Danger is in front of us, safety is behind us.

Two of us can help you.

Drink them down, and one will lead you forward.

The other one will send you back to where you started.

The two containers contained nettle wine.

Three of them were assassins, lined up and waiting.

Make your choice, unless you want to stay here forever.

……

The next part was about how to identify the medicine, but West didn't listen anymore.

He picked up the potions one by one, examined them in the firelight, and couldn't help but chuckle softly.

There isn't a single bottle of poison in here; the dean really likes to bluff.

West took out two bottles of crucial medicine and placed them aside.

Hermione gasped in surprise when she saw that West had figured out the potion without using logical reasoning.

Harry picked up the vial of potion that would allow them to safely pass through the black flames, his face showing reluctance. "There's only enough for one person, less than a sip."

They looked at each other, and finally at West.

Harry asked cautiously, "Shall I drink it?"

West's temple throbbed. "My advice is, nobody should drink."

Ron chimed in, "West is right, what if Quirrell is right behind the door?"

"The worst part is that the Dark Lord is with him." Draco's lips were somewhat pale.

"So it would be best to send someone back to Dumbledore; we need help," Hermione said.

"But we need someone to keep them occupied," Harry said stubbornly. "I can."

"What can you do?" West said speechlessly. "Am I not the strongest among us? Then let me go."

"No way!" Harry retorted. "You've never faced Voldemort before, what if..." He paused for a moment, then pointed to the scar on his forehead, "I've escaped once before, haven't I? Maybe I can get away with it again..."

"Oh, Harry!" Draco's lips trembled as he opened his arms and gave Harry a hug. "I know you're a wonderful wizard," his eyes reddened, "but I don't want anything to happen to you..."

"I'll be fine, Draco." Harry looked a little embarrassed and hesitantly hugged Draco back.

West sighed and rubbed his forehead, wanting to explode in anger, but he held back.

He didn't want to waste any more time arguing with the stubborn little lion.

"Alright then," West said, pulling a silver chain from his neck and taking out the Felix Felicis bottle hanging from it, "we'll follow Felix Felicis's instructions, shall we?"

The four men's eyes gleamed as they stared at the small bottle in West's hand.

"West, where did you get this perfect quality Felix Felicis?" Draco asked.

"Merlin's socks, how many Galleons must that be!" That was Ron's voice.

"I've heard that Felix Felicis is very difficult to prepare!" This was Hermione's exclamation.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

West unscrewed the bottle cap, feeling a pang of regret.

He hadn't even had this Felix Felicis for a few days before he was going to use it up—Merlin, this was a gift from the Dean to him.

He steeled himself and downed it in one gulp.

West held his head, feeling lightheaded, as if he were drunk.

He remained silent for a long while before speaking in a hoarse voice, "Harry, go inside. Hermione, go back to Professor Snape. The three of us will stay here."

He seemed reluctant, but it was Felix Felicis's instruction. Even if West didn't believe in Felix Felicis, he believed in its creators.

"Okay!" No one had any objections.

Hermione finished the bottle of potion in one gulp and turned to run towards the exit.

Harry took a deep breath and grabbed the smallest bottle.

"I'm here," he said, drinking the potion and walking through the black flames without hesitation.

The remaining three waited anxiously.

West's face darkened, and he felt a strong sense of unease.

The enhanced intuition from Felix Felicis forced him to calm down. He needed to wait for the right moment.

Time ticked by, and it felt like an eternity.

Draco and Ron were talking in hushed tones, but West couldn't hear them anymore. He focused his attention, waiting for the Felix Felicis to bring about a turning point.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through West's mind. He immediately raised his wand and whispered, "Patriot."

Images of Snape making potions flashed through his mind, as did his parents' gentle faces and Harry's joyful laughter...

He felt a lightness in his body as powerful magic swept through every cell.

Two shimmering deer leaped from the tip of his staff, turned and gave him a deep look before jumping into the other side of the black flames.

West stared blankly at the black flames. A terrifying burning sensation crept up his arm inch by inch, overshadowing the feeling of fullness brought on by the magic.

Everything went completely dark.

As he fell, the last thing that caught their eye was the look of fear on Draco's and Ron's faces.