The wheelchair-bound warrior is speedrunning Hogwarts.

Harley, who was standing nearby, gasped when she saw that the room they had just passed through had changed drastically, and instinctively gripped her wand tightly.

"What... what's going on?" She stared intently at the giant monster lying there, rubbing her eyes hard.

"Hmm... I guess someone wanted to make things a little harder for us," Vera mumbled, turning to look at the next corridor. "Let's hurry up and get there."

Although Hermione also looked doubtful, seeing Vera's calm expression, and urged by Harley, she ultimately didn't voice her questions.

The three of them continued walking down the corridor.

Vera turned her head and looked at the city wall bricks illuminated by the lamplight, letting out a silent sigh.

In the challenges set up by Dumbledore, no one could alter the contents of each room midway through, not even Voldemort.

But if it's not a person who tampered with the level content, but the castle itself, then it's easy to understand.

The castle wanted to use Dumbledore's plan to defeat the trolls after Voldemort, and then change the layout of the room.

That's why Vera was refused when she tried to communicate with the castle.

The year-end exams weren't just something Dumbledore wanted to test Harry on; even the castle wanted to hitch a ride and test her as well.

She wasn't sure if her actions were excellent, but given the time constraint, it was the best solution she could think of.

Soon, they arrived at the door of the next room. There was nothing scary there, only a table with seven bottles of different shapes on it.

As soon as they stepped across the threshold, a burst of flames suddenly rose behind them, sealing the doorway.

At the same time, black flames shot up from the doorway leading to the front, trapping them in the middle.

"Look!" Hermione grabbed a piece of parchment from the table and quickly glanced at it. "This is a logic puzzle. We have to choose the correct potion based on the clues to pass!"

Harley leaned closer to look, but the complicated questions made her look somewhat troubled.

“I understand,” Hermione said with a sigh of relief. “The smallest bottle will help us get through the black flames to the Philosopher’s Stone, and the rightmost bottle will help us get back through the purple flames.”

Harry looked eagerly at the row of bottles: "Then what are we waiting for? Let's hurry—"

“Wait,” Hermione picked up the smallest bottle and shook it. “The potion in the smallest bottle is only enough for one person.”

Harley was stunned: "Alone?"

This means that only one of them can continue to face Voldemort, who may have already obtained the Philosopher's Stone.

“I’ll go!” Harley said almost immediately, her emerald eyes showing no hesitation. “Voldemort’s target is me, and… I have to go.”

“No!” Hermione immediately objected. “It’s too dangerous! Let’s go back to the Owl’s Hut and write to the professor!”

“It’s too late.” Harley’s voice trembled slightly with urgency as she looked resolutely at the leaping black flames. “If Voldemort gets the Philosopher’s Stone…”

Vera listened to their argument, slowly pushed her wheelchair to the black flames, then closed her eyes and began to communicate with the castle.

Oh, it can also be called bargaining.

I just tested her so deliberately, so it shouldn't be too much to ask me to do her a small favor now, right?

Soon, after receiving a response from the castle, a faint smile appeared on the face illuminated by the flames.

"Stop arguing," Vera's calm voice interrupted their argument.

She pushed her wheelchair to the leaping black flames, reached out her hand, and gently touched the seemingly all-consuming black flames with her fingertips.

"Vera, no!" Harley cried out, trying to rush over to stop her.

However, the expected burning did not occur.

The originally raging black flames parted to the sides like docile pets, making way for a passage and revealing the cold stone door behind them.

Harley and Hermione stared in disbelief at the scene, beginning to wonder if they had been too honest with each other along the way.

So, it turns out that you can solve the problem by brute force?

"What... what's going on?" Hermione had lost count of how many times she had shown an expression of disbelief today.

Vera withdrew her hand, turned her head and said, "I think Quirrell probably did something to get through."

Just pin the blame on Quirrell and Voldemort; nobody will bother to investigate such a trivial matter.

To avoid further questioning, Vera pushed her wheelchair into the passage first, saying, "Hurry up, the flames should close up soon."

The two of them came to their senses and had no choice but to hurry and follow.

The three quickly passed through the fiery passage, and the black flames behind them immediately merged back together after they passed, sealing off their escape route.

They finally arrived at the last room.

This place is more spacious than the previous ones, with a magnificent mirror standing in the center, the very same Mirror of Erised that once captivated Harley.

In front of the mirror, a figure in a long robe was standing with his back to them, anxiously circling the magic mirror.

"No...why isn't it! I clearly saw it!"

A hoarse voice echoed in the room, and anyone could tell that it was not Quirrell's voice.

Harley gasped, her wand instantly pointing at the figure's back, and Hermione followed suit, raising her wand as well.

Hearing the voice behind him, the person turned around abruptly; it was Quirrell.

His face was pale and contorted, almost devoid of any sign of life, and his voice had become shrill and unfamiliar: "You've finally come."

“Yes, we’re here to stop you!” Harley gritted her teeth, pointing her wand directly at Quirrell. “Voldemort!”

The last name seemed to possess a magical power; Quirrell convulsed violently, as if something was wresting control of his body from him.

But soon, the struggle on his face vanished, completely replaced by a cold madness.

They watched as he removed his headscarf, revealing the back of his face—

It was a flat, snake-like face, with scarlet eyes that gleamed evilly in the dim light.

Hermione let out a suppressed gasp, and Harley's breathing quickened, but she still didn't lower her wand.

“Ah…Harley Potter…” His cold, sinister voice came from behind Quirrell, sending chills down his spine, “and all your little brats who are always getting in your way…”

Voldemort's crimson eyes slowly swept over the three, finally settling on Harley, a twisted smile spreading across his lips: "We've finally met... the girl who survived..."

Harley, fighting back nausea and fear, gripped her wand even tighter: "Get out of Quirrell's body, Voldemort! You've already lost!"

"Lost?" Voldemort let out a piercing laugh. "No, my dear Potter, this is just the beginning!"

His gaze suddenly shifted to the Mirror of Erised: "This mirror is the key; Dumbledore placed it here… but clearly, it only reveals its secrets to the 'right' person…"

He paused, then grinned maliciously at Harley: "Perhaps it's time for you to give it a try, Harley Potter?"

"Don't listen to him, Harley!" Hermione quickly stepped in front of her.

"Shut up!" Voldemort's expression suddenly changed, and he swung his wand, shooting a Shattering Charm at Hermione!

Harley instinctively tried to push Hermione away, but it was too late—

"Armor protects you!"

Vera's spell arrived first, and three semi-transparent barriers instantly appeared in front of Hermione, colliding with the murderous spell and creating a dazzling burst of sparks!

The three barriers trembled violently under the impact of the Shattering Curse, and cracks spread, but they were not completely shattered in the end.

A flicker of surprise crossed Voldemort's crimson eyes, which quickly turned into fury: "It's you again, Black!"

Vera pushed the wheelchair, subtly shielding Harley and Hermione behind her.

“You said before that you knew my father,” she asked softly, her voice unusually clear in the empty room. “From that moment on, I knew who was behind Quirrell.”

Voldemort's crimson eyes narrowed: "Your father? Ha, a servant who can only submit to me."

But at least he understands the honor of purebloods, unlike you, little girl, who would actually associate with Mudbloods.

“Glory?” Vera almost laughed out loud, her eyes full of sarcasm. “To cling to the back of someone else’s head, to eke out a living like a parasite, is this what you call ‘glory’?”

The air froze instantly.

Voldemort, whose sore spot had been hit squarely, let out a non-human, extremely angry roar, his already ugly face twisted into an unrecognizable shape.

He angrily raised his wand, but Quirrell's body suddenly trembled, preventing him from casting the spell.

"Get out of the way!" Harley, seeing the situation was turning against her, shoved Vera aside and simultaneously unleashed a spell at him, "Expelliarmus!"

The red light struck Quirrell's wrist, and his wand immediately flew out of his hand!

Quirrell screamed and frantically lunged at the falling wand.

"Tear it apart!" Hermione immediately intervened, her spell striking the wand on the ground with pinpoint accuracy, completely destroying it.

"No!" Voldemort roared, his anger pure and undisguised.

Quirrell's body convulsed violently like a marionette, his face contorted to the extreme on the back of his head.

“You…are all…to die!” Quirrell’s mouth opened and closed, uttering broken syllables, with Voldemort’s voice overlapping it, making it sound eerie and terrifying.

Without his wand, Quirrell lunged at them, his withered fingers twisting as he reached for Harley, who was at the front!

"Obstacles everywhere!" Hermione reacted quickly, casting an Obstacle Charm on Quirrell, abruptly halting his momentum.

But Voldemort's power was beyond imagination; the surging black mist actually negated most of the spell's effect.

"Harley, step back!" Vera shouted sharply, her wheelchair lurching forward to block Harley's path. At the same time, she tapped her wand on the ground: "Immediately restrain her!"

Several thick vines suddenly shot out from the cracks in the stone bricks, instantly wrapping around Quirrell's feet and tripping him, causing him to fall forward.

"Fainted!" Harley seized the opportunity, and a beam of red light shot towards Quirrell, who was lying on the ground.

However, Voldemort manipulated Quirrell's body, causing him to roll away in an extremely contorted posture. The black mist erupted from his body again, corroding and breaking the binding vines!

"Damn Potter, damn Black!" Voldemort's voice shrieked. "Quirkhor, seize them!"

Like a manipulated puppet, Quirrell charged forward without feeling any pain, even as Hermione and Harley cast several consecutive spells on him.

His withered fingers went straight for Harley's neck, startling her so much that she retreated repeatedly, trying to cast the spell again, but Quirrell was already right in front of her!

Just as the dark fingers were about to touch Harley, a blinding white light suddenly burst forth, like moonlight pouring down, instantly filling the entire room.

Harley didn't even see what happened; she only felt a gust of wind pass by her, followed by a muffled thud.

Immediately, the white light subsided, and Hermione was the first to gasp in surprise.

Only then did Harley realize that Quirrell, who had been about to catch her, had crashed into the base of the Mirror of Erised.

His face on the back of his head was contorted in pain, and he hissed as he gasped for breath.

Not far from him, Vera calmly withdrew her leg and sat back in her wheelchair, as if the fierce and swift whip kick that had sent Quirrell flying had nothing to do with her.

Harley's green eyes were wide open, and her mouth was slightly agape, almost big enough to fit a chocolate frog.

She glanced at Quirrell, who was curled up in front of the mirror groaning in pain, and then at Vera, who was sitting calmly in her wheelchair. Her mind went completely blank.

What happened in those last few seconds?

Hermione reacted faster; she suddenly remembered the little secret Vera had told her earlier, and her constricted pupils were filled with extreme shock and a hint of sudden realization.

Vera glanced at her, signaling her to be quiet, then her gaze returned to Quirrell, who was struggling to get up.

Voldemort roared furiously from behind Quirrell's head, "Kill her! Quirrell, tear her to pieces!"

Enveloped in black mist, Quirrell's body rose again in an inhuman, contorted posture.

His wrist was unnaturally bent, clearly broken in the impact, but he seemed to feel no pain, his eyes filled only with a frenzied killing intent.

A thicker black mist surged from Quirrell's body, like living tentacles, and suddenly swept towards Vera!

Wherever it passed, the air seemed to freeze, carrying a chilling cold and an atmosphere of despair.

"Vera!" Harley cried out, trying to rush forward.

"Don't come any closer!" Vera hissed, and the wheelchair quickly slid backward.

She gripped her wand tightly, a resolute glint in her eyes, pointed the tip at Quirrell, and uttered the spell in a clear and powerful voice: "Fiendfire!"

This is a spell that first-grade students should absolutely not know, let alone master.

A sudden burst of scorching heat erupted in the air, as if the gates of hell had been opened.

A burst of intensely hot flames, so intense it distorted the air, erupted from the tip of Vera's wand, transforming into a roaring fire serpent that, with an aura of destruction capable of burning everything, hurtled straight toward the churning black mist!

The fierce flames and black mist collided violently, producing a hissing sound that made one's teeth ache.

Darkness and light, extreme cold and intense heat, two diametrically opposed forces frantically eroding and devouring each other.

The black mist attempted to freeze the flames, while the Fiery Blaze raged through the darkness, reducing them to nothingness ashes.

The temperature in the room rose sharply, and the firelight shone on everyone's faces, flickering on and off.