"...What in the world are those things?"
Ron had lost count of how many tis he had asked that question. At this mont, the three of them were squeezed into a narrow passageway. The cramped space and the steep upward slope made it impossible for them to speed up; they could only climb upward step by step, trying to reach the top.
"Good question, but the answer is still unknown—"
Fred grinned. In this seemingly undeveloped passageway, there weren’t many places to get a foothold. Just keeping moving upward required almost all his strength, let alone wasting his brain power to answer Ron’s question.
It’s better not to think about it; the more you think, the more it annoys you...
Recalling the glimpse of the monsters when he lit the Filibuster Fireworks and the ferocious appearance when they burst out of their cages—honestly, Fred wasn’t too worried about the pursuers now, as those monsters didn’t look easy to deal with...
Those two black wizards and that goblin were probably already devoured by the monsters, weren’t they?
So...
"Hold on a second... let’s rest, just for a bit."
George, gasping for breath, supported himself against the wall. As the last in the team, he not only had to struggle to ascend the slightly fluctuating stone bricks on the walls, but also needed to free a hand from ti to ti to resist Ron’s "attacks" with his rear from the front. Ugh, he really couldn’t hold up any longer.
"They won’t catch up, will they?"
Upon hearing this, Ron also stopped, though he couldn’t help but voice his opinion. He leaned his body against the wall, breathing heavily to recover his vastly depleted strength. It’s not like he wanted to "attack" George with his butt; it was just that his body was still a bit rigid from the months of petrification—
When he first woke up, he was caught by Madam Pomfrey and made to undergo rehabilitation exercises for more than half a month.
"Them? They might already be dead?"
Fred also paused, naturally referring to the two black wizards and the goblin. "We need to go back to find Bill and leave with him." At this point, Fred took another deep breath and continued, "We can’t rest anymore; those two black wizards are dead, but those monsters aren’t..."
I was talking about those monsters...
Ron grimaced slightly but was too lazy to correct the details, preparing to get up and continue upward with Fred.
"..."
"...Are you sure they’re dead?"
A mont later, George’s voice echoed eerily.
"Uh, I guessed, you..."
With George’s words, an uneasy premonition suddenly rose in Fred’s heart. Carried by this feeling, he lowered his head in silence—alright, Ron, George, the gloomy passage, and then... are they really catching up?
*?
Watching the black-robed figure struggling to climb at the end of the passage, Fred felt a spine-chilling fear. Ron, who also saw this, reacted even more intensely. After all, the attack spell from the black wizard just before had targeted him, and he definitely didn’t want to experience the sensation of death brushing past his skull again.
"Run—"
Ron practically wailed like a ghost as he raised his hand to push Fred’s backside, and his commotion naturally caught the attention of the "black wizard" at the bottom. Seeing those three red-haired heads, he hurriedly accelerated his ascent—
"We can’t escape."
So people’s minds beco clearer when situations turn into ergencies, and George was evidently such a person. He stared at the accelerating black-robed figure below them. The opponent was much faster than them, and at this rate, catching up was just a matter of ti.
Noticing this, George’s eyes flickered with thought. "Are all the fireworks used up?" He looked up at Fred.
"Of course, even if they weren’t..."
Fred’s aning was clear. Even if the fireworks weren’t all used up, they couldn’t be set off in such a place. No matter how Dr. Filibuster promoted the fireworks’ harmlessness, they were still explosives, and setting them off in such a cramped space would be no different than strapping grenades all over oneself and sticking out your tongue at the enemy—
Pure self-destruction.
"In that case, there’s no choice but to..."
George sighed, quietly reaching into his pocket and retrieving a yellow-brown spherical object.
"...Are we going to perish together?"
Seeing the sphere in George’s hand, the bewildered expression on Ron’s face quickly transford into terror—a dungbomb. How could he not recognize this thing? Growing up, every ten pranks by these two would involve this item about three tis.
As for that sll... it lingered for a long ti. For a period, the ceiling of the twins’ bedroom always stank, much to Ron’s detrint living just above them.
So it wasn’t surprising that Ron was puzzled at this mont.
Because setting off dungbombs in such a small space was no different from the fireworks: one damages the body, while the other the spirit—
But George and Fred didn’t pay Ron any heed. The two exchanged glances and nodded. George began to pull out dungbombs from his pocket and throw them down, while Fred first cast a Bubble-Head Charm on each of the three.
Then, he started waving his wand downward to cast spells. Disarming Spells and Stunning Spells flew even faster than the dungbombs—
He also tagged along with two Blasting Curses, hitting two airborne dungbombs. Instantly, the entire passage was engulfed in a yellow-brown "fog."
...
"..."
Great, now Lupin understood just how troubleso these kids William always ntioned really were.
What kind of decent person fights with dungbombs? Watching the foul sll spread towards him, even with the Bubble-Head Charm, Lupin felt the urge to leap off the passage and embrace the Quintapeds and Fiendfyre below—
To be fair, the Weasley brothers’ tactics were very effective. Faced with such an attack, anyone would pause, but...
Watching those surviving creatures, Quintapeds burning with flas yet still jumping to bite at his rear, and the flying spells towards him, Lupin sighed. Silently casting the Iron Armor Spell, a dull gray barrier enveloped him, and then he twisted his bracelet, a silvery beam of moonlight glaring brightly—
"..."
"Is it settled?"
Ron, looking sowhat at a loss at the green fog, spoke with an almost codically blurred tone through the Bubble-Head Charm.
But before the other two could respond, a light suddenly flared in the fog, and the black-robed figure burst through, landing directly before them. The black hood fell away, revealing a werewolf’s ferocious face, leaving the three of them utterly stupefied—
What on earth is this?
...A werewolf?
Having attended Lockhart’s demonstration classes, the three had seen werewolf illustrations, but... was tonight a full moon? Besides, it wasn’t even nightti!
Yet what happened next further tested their nerves. The werewolf propped itself up, its yellowish eyes glaring at them, and a slightly hoarse voice sounded—
"Weasley..."
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