The Greedy Frog
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HP: DnD Chapter 34
🕑 Added 2024-11-27 19:39:17 +0000 UTCChapter 34: Trials without Dungeons
“Don’t move!” Hermione’s voice echoed from below. “They’ll tighten their grip if you struggle too much!”
Damien already knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier. It was incredibly hard to calm your body and mind when countless tentacle-like tendrils were wrapped around you, squeezing every part of your body.
He fought to steady his breathing. He wasn’t fond of confined spaces, and the vines pressing against him made it hard to breathe properly. The claustrophobia was unbearable. And since the uneasiness was based on physical discomfort, even [Sage’s Thoughts] weren’t enough to calm him.
“I-It’s alright!” Ron’s voice came from beside him, strained. “You might not have noticed, but I’m stuck too.”
Damien had noticed the vines trapping Ron earlier but hadn’t spoken up. Now that they were both ensnared, Ron's frantic movements were only making things worse.
Harry and Hermione had managed to escape, but Ron, being less composed under pressure, was having a harder time.
Damien, though calmer now, still wasn’t fond of the situation. Every time a tendril loosened, Ron's nervous thrashing would cause them to tighten again.
“Ron!” Hermione shouted from below. “Calm down!”
The Devil’s Snare wasn’t just a trap; it was a safety net. For those quick enough to cast a spell, it could slow their fall. But for slower casters, like Ron, the Snare provided a cushion that prevented injury.
‘No choice,’ Damien thought, gritting his teeth. “Ron! Stay still for just five seconds!” he urged.
Ron wasn’t the type to follow orders easily, especially in moments like this. But Damien’s tone brooked no argument. “I’m trying…” Ron’s voice was shaky.
“I jumped trusting you, now you trust me,” Damien said firmly. It was difficult for Ron to relax, but Damien could see his friend making an effort, closing his eyes in an attempt to calm down.
“Don’t cast spells!” Harry called out urgently. “Most spells will just make the Snare more agitated. It’ll only tighten around you two!”
Damien wasn’t planning on casting any random spell, though.
‘Good thing I kept my wand in hand,’ he thought, gripping it tightly. Calculating the distance and angle, he knew there was only one spell that might work against the Devil’s Snare—one he had seen used before.
“Sectumsempra!” he shouted, and instantly, slashes of magic whirled through the air.
The spell was tricky to control, but Damien had practiced it enough to direct the slashes with some precision. While he couldn’t control every single cut, he was able to sever enough tendrils to make a difference.
“That’s…” Hermione’s voice faltered in disbelief.
Harry, who had been watching, gasped as Ron tumbled down, vines slashed and tangled around him. Damien, with his eyes open, had been able to twist in mid-air, landing on his feet. It hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.
“Ugh… That hurt…” Ron groaned, sitting up, his backside sore from the fall.
Harry rushed to help his friend, while Hermione quickly moved toward Damien.
She had heard the spell, and it didn’t take long for her to connect the dots. “That’s Snape’s spell…” she muttered, frowning. “How did you learn it?”
Damien could see the suspicion in her eyes. It wasn’t just a casual curse—it was a potent, advanced spell that no one had heard of outside of Snape’s occasional use. Hermione had tried to find any mention of it in the library, but came up empty.
For a moment, Damien considered lying, but he knew there was no easy explanation. So, he gave her a half-truth.
“I saw Snape use it once a while ago,” he began, “and I got curious. I looked everywhere for an explanation, but couldn’t find anything.”
Hermione nodded slowly, her brow furrowed in thought. She had encountered the same dead ends.
“So, I didn’t give up,” Damien continued, “and spent some time researching Latin and the spell’s formation. Eventually, I figured it out.” He left out the part about how quickly he had learned it, choosing to focus on the effort it took rather than the actual speed.
“You…” Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed. “Your magic… It’s grown a lot stronger since last year.”
Damien gave her a wry smile, unsure how to respond. There was no easy way to explain the truth.
“Hermione!” Harry called from the front. “We need to move! We’re wasting time!”
He helped Ron up and dusted him off. “What’s the next room?” Damien asked, already bracing himself for whatever challenges lay ahead.
If the Devil’s Snare had been this difficult, he couldn’t imagine what the next room would hold.
“How’s your eyesight?” Ron huffed, still catching his breath from the earlier ordeal.
Damien wasn’t sure why Ron asked, but he replied, “Pretty good, I think.”
“Good. You’ll need it,” Ron said with a coy smile, now able to walk without support.
Damien, still following them, raised an eyebrow. “Tell me it’s not something like the Devil’s Snare.”
“Frustrating, yes. Dangerous, not necessarily,” Hermione said, walking beside him. “You’ll understand the moment you take the next step.”
With a wary glance, Damien followed them through another entrance. The space was dimmer than the last, and, strangely, he began to hear a faint noise. As his eyes adjusted, he froze.
“Are those… flying keys?” His mouth went dry as he took in the sight. Hundreds of keys, each with wings, fluttered about. Some were the same color but different patterns, while others were alike in design but varied in hue.
At the far end of the room stood a massive iron door, its lock unmistakably prominent.
Damien sighed in frustration, piecing it together. “Don’t tell me…”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Harry assured him. “I felt the same way the first time.”
The uncertainty, the frustration, the helplessness—it all clicked. There were hundreds of keys, and somewhere among them was the one that would open the lock. Finding it seemed almost impossible.
“It’s the same as last time,” Hermione called from near the gate. “It’s the same color, pattern, and size as last time.”
“Perfect!” Ron cheered, turning to Harry.
Harry nodded, but Damien watched with genuine curiosity. By now, he’d figured out that Harry and his friends had already identified the key they needed. But pinpointing the exact one among the swirling mass of keys would be no easy feat.
‘I think I know how he’s going to do it,’ Damien mused. His suspicions were confirmed when Harry spoke up.
“Hermione, the broom!” Harry called.
Hermione picked up the lone broom near the door—something Damien had been eyeing since entering. The boy understood: Harry was going to use the broom to catch the key. But Damien still wondered how Harry would identify it.
‘The lock must hold the answer,’ Damien thought, his curiosity pulling him closer to the door as Harry soared into the air.
“That’s a massive lock,” Damien observed, impressed. ‘Can’t we just break it with a spell?’
His curiosity led him to reach out and touch the lock, but the moment his hand made contact, a violent mental force struck him.
“It’s protected,” Hermione whispered from the side. “We learned that the hard way last time.”
She seemed embarrassed by the memory.
“So, which key opens the lock?” Damien asked, glancing at Harry chasing keys in the sky.
“Look closely at the lock,” Hermione replied. “That should tell you.”
Damien raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Let’s see…”
He examined the lock—large, detailed, and brass-colored. Immediately, he ruled out smaller and medium-sized keys. The design was intricate, suggesting the key had to be similarly detailed. He then focused on the color. The lock was a faded golden brown, implying the key should match. Finally, the rust marks on the lock suggested that the key wasn’t new.
“Large, detailed, brass-colored, possibly rusted,” he said, glancing at Hermione. “Is that it?”
Her expression shifted from amused to pleased. “Bingo.”
Just then, Harry shouted, “Found it!”
Harry, holding the key, struggled to catch it as it fluttered wildly, but he succeeded. The moment he caught it, the other keys seemed to grow more agitated, flying faster and more erratically.
“Hurry!” Harry yelled, tossing the key to Damien. Without missing a beat, Damien grabbed it and thrust it into the lock, turning it.
The lock clicked open, falling to the floor with a loud echo.
“Open it!” Ron urged as the keys swarmed towards them, moving faster than before.
Damien gritted his teeth. “It’s heavy! How do I open it?”
“Hit it with a heavy spell!” Hermione called, already lifting her wand.
Realizing they had little time, Damien and Hermione exchanged a glance. They stepped back and cast the same powerful spell.
“Bombarda Maxima!”
The force of the explosion reverberated around them, sending a shockwave that nudged the door open slightly. It wasn’t enough to open it fully, but it created just enough space for them to slip through.
“Hurry!” Damien urged, jumping through the gap, followed closely by Hermione, Ron, and finally Harry.
Once they were safely inside, Hermione called, “Once more!”
The four of them raised their wands, pointing them at the door.
“Bombarda Maxima!” they all shouted in unison.
Another series of massive explosions rocked the door, forcing it back into its frame, keeping the keys from escaping.
Harry, exhausted from the chase and casting the draining spell, slumped against the door.
“That… went smoother than last time,” he said, panting.
Damien looked at the boy and thought about what they might have gone through the first time.
‘I don’t even want to know how much they must have suffered when they had no idea about the challenges.’
However, now they were in a new room, and something told Damien that he still wasn’t free yet.
“And now comes the annoying part,” he heard Ron sigh, which made him turn around.
Which he wished he hadn't.
“Ron,” Damien said, already tired from the countless challenges. “I don’t think I like what I see.”
“Trust me,” Ron sighed. “I felt the same when I first saw it, and I still feel the same.”
Before them were monstrously big statues.
Statues designed in the form of chess pieces.
Knights, Rooks, Bishops, Queens, Kings, Pawns.
There were multiple pieces arranged in a half-played fashion, with quite a few pieces missing.
“And I’m guessing we’re supposed to pick a side and play?” Damien asked.
The trio nodded. “We’re supposed to destroy the other side, and that opens the next path.”
Placing his hands over his head, Ron sighed again. “So, which side do you think is a better pick?”
While Ron asked that, Damien knew Ron was probably the best at chess among them. He had seen Ron beat everyone in the chess club.
But there was a thought lingering in his mind.
“What exactly is the winning requirement of this challenge, Ron?”
He had a doubt, and he guessed it might not involve playing a long game of chess.
“Well, you pick a side and win against the other side, practically destroying the pieces,” Ron explained.
This made Damien’s lips curl upward.
“Then we may not need to play a game of chess,” he said, his tone confident.
Everyone looked at him in confusion.
“What do you mean?” they asked in unison.
“Let’s pick a side, Ron,” Damien said. “I’m feeling white.”
Ron analyzed the positions. “I think white is at a disadvantage.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Damien said and walked forward. “We choose white.”
With that, he placed his hand on the white king piece, and immediately all the pieces began to shake, as if ready to be played.
But Damien? Damien had no intention of playing.
If all they had to do was destroy the opposing pieces, he didn’t even need to move a single one.
“Let’s do this,” he said, taking a deep breath and extending his wand toward the pieces. “Confringo!”
The curse immediately shattered a knight and a bishop on the black side, destabilizing the opposing forces.
Not letting the black side make any more moves, he cast another curse.
“Sectumsempra!”
This time, the queen and three pawns were hit, sliced and broken into tiny pieces.
Finally, Damien decided to end it with one more spell, while his friends watched him in awe.
He considered Fiendfyre but decided against it. Instead, he cast another explosion spell.
“Bombarda Maxima!”
The final pawns, along with a single rook and the king, shattered into a hundred pieces, completely wiping out the black side—leaving all the white pieces untouched.
“Is that…” Harry stared in disbelief. “Is that allowed?”
“I… don’t know,” Hermione mumbled, while Ron stood with his jaw dropped.
“It worked,” Damien said, still unable to believe his own actions. “Look!”
As they looked, they saw the door open, the one that would lead them out and toward the final test.
However, none of them could say they were proud of how this challenge had been handled.
Mostly because they all felt stupid for having played the entire game the previous time.
