Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

Dumbledore was stunned and speechless, then he raised his foot and buried it in the cave.

……

The name of the Devil's Snare sounds grumpy, but it is actually a vine that likes shade and moisture and has a gentle personality. It will not immediately use force after wrapping around you, and it is timid and afraid of fire. There is no need for a fire spell, just the blue bellflower flame used for warmth. With a light light, the vine will shrink back into the corner in shame.

The combat effectiveness is pitifully low.

Next is the level designed by Professor Flitwick. In the brightly lit room, the only way out is a heavy wooden door with a lock. Thousands of keys grow wings and fly nimbly. The challenger needs to catch the correct key among the thousands of keys.

In fact, there are only two keys in total, a wrong copper key and a correct silver key. The problem now is to use the copy spell on the copper key several times, mix all the keys together, and use a flock of birds to make them fly.

There is more than one way to solve the problem. You can use the Breaking Spell to remove the magic on all the keys, or you can use the Flying Spell to summon the correct key. If you don't mind alerting other professors in the school, brute force is the fastest way to break the door.

Taking into account that Harry and his friends were still first-years and might not be able to pass the exam with their knowledge of spells, Professor Flitwick thoughtfully provided them with a flying broom.

【Spell Stop】

Invisible magic power spread out like ripples, gradually enveloping the entire room. Thousands of keys that were flying freely condensed in the air. The sound of flapping wings disappeared instantly, and the keys that were copied into pairs quietly dissipated like soap bubbles.

The only remaining copper key and silver key fell into the hands of the young professor.

"..."

Facing Melvin's gloomy gaze, Dumbledore explained, "Considering that these doors can only hold students below the third grade, Filius did not prepare any spare keys."

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, the stone chess game prepared by Professor McGonagall was revealed to have been cracked. The captured chess pieces shattered into pieces on the ground, and the white chess pieces were killed, but the white king and the white queen were intact, guarding the red-haired Weasley.

"No broken bones, no dislocations..." Melvin gave a quick check. "Just a bump on the head. Looks like he was hit hard by a chess piece and passed out."

"What a silly child..." Although Dumbledore said this, judging from the expression on his face, he was still very pleased.

"Ron's not stupid! He was the one who cracked the chess game!"

A girl's tender and crisp voice came from the corridor. Hermione walked out of the corridor with red eyes. She stared at the young professor and the old principal. Seeing the two of them appear here, she felt relieved, and many of her previous doubts came back to her.

Although the whole truth is still unclear, she already has a guess.

"Professor Lewynter, Headmaster Dumbledore, you..." Hermione sniffed. She had solved the puzzle of the poison and the antidote, but the antidote was only enough for one person to pass. Harry took the initiative to face the dark wizard and asked her to come back to report.

The little witch was still in a state of panic: "Did you plan all this? You knew that Professor Snape was the You-Know-Who's servant and placed the Philosopher's Stone here on purpose..."

"Professor Snape was wrongly accused. Let the headmaster explain the details to you." Melvin patted her head. "Go find Harry first. He's not out of danger yet."

The young professor walked in front.

"..."

Dumbledore pondered for a moment, and looking at the little witch's questioning look with a hint of blame, he suddenly felt a little troubled.

Fox tilted his head and looked at his old friend, making a cheerful cooing sound.

……

With magic power covering his whole body, Quirrell easily stepped over the black flames. Could any carefully prepared poison and magic flames compare to the Dark Lord's fierce fire and the breath of death that lingered on his tarsal bones?

Ahead is the room where magic is hidden. Whether it is fear, curse, or black magic items, no matter what the cunning Levent has placed in it, it will only be destroyed and shattered by the magic of the Dark Lord.

He walked into a room shrouded in shadows. The light inside was extremely dim, and he could only see a few inches in front of him, and it was very blurry. There was silence all around him. The floor under his feet was uneven and seemed to have accumulated water. Apart from the sound of water dripping, Quirrell could only hear his own breathing.

He frowned and prepared to light his wand.

Suddenly, a dim cold light lit up. As the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quirrell immediately determined that it was the dark creature Hinckley, the will-o'-the-wisp in Muggle legend. This creature itself has no attack ability and lives near jungle swamps, using bright light to lure travelers into the swamp.

The illumination spell might expose himself, so the dim light of Hinkpunk would be much more convenient. Before Quirrell could be happy, he heard rustling sounds throughout the room.

Countless night moths and bats swooped down on Hinkpunk, drowning out the faint light in the blink of an eye. The specific situation could not be seen, but faint sounds could be heard. In between the sounds of flapping wings, the weak dark creature let out a very slight but extremely shrill scream.

A living creature was being eaten not far away.

Quirrell felt a slight chill in his heart, and a slight irritation. These night moths and bats were difficult to deal with. In the wild, they were driven away with fire, but using fire spells in such a narrow, damp, and waterlogged room would have no effect.

"What if it's Fiendfyre..." Quirrell grasped the turban hanging in front of him, then let go in disappointment.

Fiendfyre could easily get out of control and could even destroy the Philosopher's Stone.

As long as the moths don't attract their attention, it doesn't matter what they eat.

Quirrell suppressed his inner irritation and walked inside relying on his rough sense of direction and the faint light. With the help of the faint light from Hinckley Punk, he just caught a glimpse of a platform in the corner against the wall in front.

I stepped into a puddle, and although my boots didn't get wet, some splashes of water seeped into my trouser legs, making the damp and cold feeling uncomfortable.

Quirrell groped his way inside along the wall and suddenly touched something sticky and wet. He took a closer look and found it was a wet rope. He impatiently threw it into the puddle.

The terrible dim vision, the subtle sounds in the darkness, the constantly splashing water, Quirrell felt that his breathing and heartbeat began to become strange. Although he knew that he was the only one in the room, he felt a strange breath behind him and a strange gaze peeping at him in the corner.

……

The sweeping black flames blocked the aisle. These flames seemed to have spirits. They sensed the three teachers and students approaching, and rolled up tongues of fire with high temperature to lick towards them.

But it was blocked outside by a circle of transparent bubble film.

"Professor, uh—"

"Shh..."

Just as the little witch was about to speak, she was stopped by the young professor and a toffee was stuffed into her mouth. Hermione was speechless and looked up at the professor, questioning him with her eyes. Only a blurry figure could be seen in the dark room.

Melvin reached into his pocket and fumbled around for a while, then took out a slender, dry arm specimen. A candle was placed at the wick of the cane. He held the end of the arm bone with his right hand, and brought his left hand close to the wick. He pinched it with his thumb and index finger, and a flash of flame lit the candle.

The candles were lit but there was no light; Hermione only saw a fleeting flicker of flame.

The next moment, she felt the professor holding her right hand, a candlelight appeared in her vision, and the room in front of her suddenly became clear.

I looked up at the professor, who was holding my hand with one hand and holding a slightly gloomy "candlestick" with the other. He glanced at the old principal next to him, indicating that I should pull the old principal into the group chat as well.

Hermione held the headmaster's slightly rough hand. She saw Dumbledore startled for a moment, then looked down at her with a hint of compassion in his blue eyes.

She couldn't understand the meaning of that look, indicating that it was Professor Lewinter who asked her to do so.

The little witch's eyes were bright, and Dumbledore looked a little dazed.

……

There was a flash of bright yellow fire behind him. Harry didn't have time to turn around and look back, but he could clearly see the figure in front of him with a purple turban wrapped around his head. It was Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"..."

Not Snape!

Harry resisted the urge to gasp, holding his breath as he tried to calm himself.

All the signs in the room ahead indicated that the dark wizard who stole the Philosopher's Stone was walking ahead of them. When Harry entered the room, he was mentally prepared to face the dark wizard. He thought it was Snape, but unexpectedly it was Quirrell!

Fortunately, I walked lightly after entering the room and made no noise, so I was not discovered by the dark wizard.

It seems that Quirrell has not succeeded yet. If he can delay until Hermione comes to help, everything will still be in time!

Harry groped his way forward more cautiously, barely lifting or putting his feet down, his shoes never leaving the water, and his footsteps were barely audible.

As he was cautiously clinging to the wall, something wet and slippery suddenly wrapped around his feet.

"It's a snake!"

Harry's body stiffened, his heartbeat quickened, but he remained extremely calm and didn't scream. He was a wizard, he could talk to snakes, he had even teamed up with the zoo's python to play a trick on his cousin Dudley.

To be honest, Harry is not afraid of snakes and he actually likes these animals.

Harry controlled himself and half-crouched down, lowering his throat so that only a few inches around him could hear him and said, "Mr. Snake, stop pestering me and go bite the bad guy in front."

The snake wrapped around his leg stopped, and although it didn't answer, it slowly retracted along his calf, as if it understood what he said.

Harry suddenly remembered something: "Forget it, don't go. That's an evil dark wizard. You are no match for him. You'd better find a safe place to stay."

The slippery, long object sank into the water, creating ripples, and the figure gradually disappeared from sight.

……

"..."

Hermione held a sticky toffee in her mouth, holding the young professor in one hand and the old headmaster in the other, her pretty face expressionless.

What was Harry hissing at a piece of rope?

The rope looked like the professor's candlestick, like a prop.

Forget it, I'll just ask the professor directly later.

Anyway, the headmaster is here, so Harry shouldn't be in danger.

Melvin, holding a candlestick, stood not too far behind Harry. The candlelight was bright and the view was clear. He could see very clearly the communication between Harry and the rope, and his expression was a little complicated.

Logically speaking, the broken black magic rope didn't understand Parseltongue and just ran away in search of other targets after a failed murder attempt. But combined with Harry's hissing, it really looked like Harry was instructing it to attack Quirrell.

I wonder what the back of Voldemort's head would look like if Quirrell was actually hung up.

Dumbledore, who was standing next to him, stared at Harry with a thoughtful look.

……

The bright yellow flame flashed by, and when Quirrell turned his head to look, the flame had disappeared, leaving only deep darkness.

The room was still silent, with only the rustling of bats and moths and the sound of water splashing. A feeling of uneasiness flooded over him like a tide. The disgusting face of Lewinter appeared in front of Quirrell's eyes, and he could not help but quicken his pace.

"pat...pat..."

Two footsteps were heard in succession.

"!!"

Quirrell suddenly stopped and his breathing suddenly stopped. He had only taken one step, but whose was the other step?

"who!?"

Quirrell shouted alertly.

No one answered.

He took another cautious step, his boots making a clear clicking sound as they stepped on the water.

After waiting for a moment, there were still those familiar voices, and no other unusual movements. Quirrell suspected that he had misheard, or that it was the echo of the closed room. He breathed a sigh of relief and continued walking towards the platform in front.

"pat..."

"pat..."

"pat...pat..."

Quirrell felt his heart skip a beat, his hands and feet were cold, and he quietly grasped the drooping turban. He paused for a moment, and according to the Dark Lord's instructions, he looked towards a place not far ahead -