CH47: Devil's Snare

Note:

Well after almost 3 months geuss who's back baby? I cant promise consistent or daily updates but i can promise more updates than before for i have alot of free time and whenever i am bored i'll pick this book up and translate it.

As Usual if there are any mistakes in lore,grammer and info please do let me know i the Chapter comments or paragraph comments and i will fix it ASAP

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"In the herbal medicine class, Professor Pomona brought out many kinds of plants, including some mushrooms, um, just mushrooms.

Of course, there were also more interesting plants, such as the Wiggentree, which is a magical sorbus tree that protects those who touch its trunk from dark creatures—wizards like to use it as a magical talisman to ward off evil.

Professor Pomona also mentioned some dangerous plants, like poisonous and highly dangerous tentacle plants, Mandela grass that can be deadly when ingested, and the one that Professor Pomona is holding now, a small pot of devil's net.

"This is a young devil's snare" Pomona said, picking up her wand and touching the sprout of the devil's snare. The shoot immediately extended tendrils to wrap around the wand.

"As you can see, when creatures get close to them, the devil's net will ensnare those nearby. When it grows to a certain level, it can cause injury or even death. When caught in the devil's net, it's best not to struggle, as the vines will tighten."

Professor Pomona shook the wand to demonstrate the characteristics of the Devil's Net.

"Devil's snare prefers a dark and humid environment, making light and warmth its natural enemies," Professor Pomona's wand burst into a small flame, which she used to repel the Devil's Net.

"As you can see, flames can pose a threat to it. Setting it on fire is an effective way to drive them away."

Everyone took notes with their quill pens. Pomona wasn't in a hurry. Once everyone finished writing, she continued, "People who don't know the Devil's Net might confuse it with crabgrass. Special attention is needed..."

The herbal medicine class was very informative. Pomona provided a broad introduction to various magical plants, which everyone found enlightening. This class quickly piqued their interest. The only downside was that two classes had been combined, and the students had been standing for quite some time, causing their legs to go a little numb.

The bell signaling the end of the class finally rang, much to the relief of most students.

Professor Pomona didn't assign homework, which was good news for everyone.

"We have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the afternoon," Lee Jordan mentioned with excitement. Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of the subjects most first-year students looked forward to.

"Have you heard?" George said to the others as they left Greenhouse One, "The Defense Against the Dark Arts class is cursed. The professor who teaches this subject always encounters various misfortunes. Every year, someone resigns, and no one has taught for more than a year."

"Cursed," Albert said, understanding what was being discussed. This curse stemmed from Voldemort, or Tom, the dark lord with a cat bearing the same name.

It was said that after Tom failed to secure the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he cursed it out of resentment. He aimed to discourage others from taking the role and even forced Dumbledore to make concessions.

"Yes, that's the rumour. It's believed that a powerful wizard cast a curse on this position; otherwise, Professor Dumbledore would have surely resolved it," Albert explained.

A curse that had lasted for decades showed the strength of the caster.

"Now we can only hope that our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will have better luck," Albert said as they walked.

As they turned a corner, they encountered an unpleasant stench, and they observed Filch apprehending a third-year Gryffindor who had thrown a large dung bomb into the corridor.

Just around the corner, a foul stench wafted toward him, and he happened to witness Filch apprehending a third-year Gryffindor who had thrown a large dung bomb into the corridor.

"What's going on?" Albert extended his hand to cover his nose and mouth, turning to a nearby student for answers.

"The guy made a bet and lost it. His punishment was to toss a dung bomb in front of Filch," explained the senior student, shaking his head in disapproval. The stench from that massive dung bomb was unbearable, akin to a biological gas attack.

"It's truly insane!" Albert couldn't help but shake his head repeatedly. For some reason, he suddenly felt that Filch was putting in a lot of effort, and if he were in Filch's shoes, he'd probably be exhausted.

"It's quite entertaining," the Weasley twins chimed in with enthusiasm, as they could see that Filch was visibly incensed by this prank.

Albert cleared his throat, offering a gentle reminder, "Ahem, do you want to help clean the chamber pots in the school and hospital as well?"

The Weasley twins, initially excited, suddenly deflated at the prospect of cleaning chamber pots. That didn't sound appealing at all.

Lee Jordan chimed in, "Actually, as long as you don't get caught, you'll be fine."

"At your current level, it might be a bit challenging not to get caught," Albert continued to pour cold water on their plans. "Unless you want to take lessons from that daring fellow over there."

During the walk back to the auditorium for dinner, the twins fell silent, their thoughts hidden.

"We've made up our minds," the two announced resolutely, locking eyes with each other.

"What have you decided?" Albert inquired, raising an eyebrow with suspicion.

"We're going to do it," the twins declared in unison.

"Do what?" Albert asked, puzzled.

"We're going to throw a big dung bomb in Filch's office," the twins said seriously.

Albert was taken aback, nearly spewing his pumpkin juice across the table as he looked at the twins in shock.

"Ahem," he coughed, trying to regain his composure.

Lee Jordan, standing beside him, was equally speechless.

These two are absolutely...insane!

"If you're genuinely committed to this, I can offer you some...small suggestions," Albert eventually said, "although I haven't figured it out yet."

"Why are you so timid..." Lee Jordan shook his head, now beginning to understand why Albert had been sorted into Gryffindor.

This guy isn't exactly courageous!

"By the way, I'm quite curious how you can eat so much food at lunch," Lee Jordan changed the subject awkwardly.

"Nonsense, I had breakfast at seven in the morning. Can you compare that to what you eat after eight-thirty?" Albert rolled his eyes at Lee.

Since they had light breakfasts in the morning, and the British typically had substantial breakfasts, they usually didn't get hungry until noon. They ate lightly at lunch, sometimes even skipping it.

"What do you think would be a suitable punishment for Filch?" the twins were more focused on the immediate problem.

"Just make sure you don't go overboard, but make Filch really angry," Albert suggested, glancing toward a corner of the long table where a student had returned to life and was now surrounded by a crowd.

Lee, who had just finished eating, also joined the group to hear the news. It seemed that excessive curiosity was a widespread affliction.

"Indeed," the twins agreed, looking back at Albert.

"Are you prepared to face detention?" Albert asked once more.

"Yes!" the twins nodded simultaneously.

Chapter 47 The End.