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Master Druid in Hogwarts.

This is the story of a kitten that acquired druid spells from another world and the wizards mistook it for an animagus. If you want to support me and give me some motivation to continue translating this novel, you can do it through Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/inferno303 *I don't own the copyright of such fanfic nor the contents of the novel nor the Harry Potter book.

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Chapter 72: Clearly Willing (Edited)

"A good dog, no doubt."

Dumbledore was oblivious to the complicated feelings in Quirrell's mind at that moment, he smiled and agreed, stepping forward and opening the trapdoor in the floor, gesturing to Quirrell, "Come on, Quirinus."

And with that, he jumped down.

Quirrell looked at Hagrid, who was still playing with the three-headed dog, Hagrid caught his gaze, waved his hand and said, "I'll stay here with Fluffy, so I won't follow him downstairs, and..."

Hagrid pointed to the trap door that had opened, and said with a smile, "That hole is a little too small for me."

He nodded to him and stepped behind him into the dark hole.

Quirrell saw it too, nodded and jumped into the black hole after Dumbledore.

The cold, damp air whistled in Quirrell's ears as he cast a levitation spell on himself, and the speed of his fall immediately slowed.

It was then that he had time to look down.

The bottom of the cavern was now illuminated with a white light, which must have been Dumbledore's Lumos spell.

After floating to the bottom, Quirrell stepped on something soft.

By the light Dumbledore had cast, he found a thick layer of vines under his feet.

Noticing Quirrell's presence, the plant stretched out its snake-like tendrils and coiled around his foot.

Quirrell quickly jumped to the side, dodging the vines.

"Devil's Snare."

As a Ravenclaw, Quirrell easily recognized the plant under his feet.

"Yes, Devil's Snare, courtesy of Pomona, isn't that interesting?" said Dumbledore.

Quirrell nodded, but he was rather scornful inside, the Devil's Snare's weakness was so obvious that even a first year wizard could easily handle it if he knew its properties.

But Pomona Sprout was nothing more than a professor of herbalism, and an untalented Hufflepuff, so she could probably only use this kind of unreliable means.

Quirrell thought contemptuously in his mind, but his face remained coy.

The two continued on down a stone corridor until they came to a brightly lit room where numerous winged keys were flying.

"This is the defense that Filius and Rolanda have built together," Dumbledore led Quirrell through the flying keys to a heavy wooden door, then gestured to the group of keys above, and a large silver key with sky blue wings dropped into Dumbledore's hand.

Using the key in his hand to open the wooden door, Dumbledore led Quirrell into the next room.

Quirrell frowned, he had just seen the presence of the flying broom in the corner.

If Professor Sprout had prepared the Devil's Snare because he wasn't competent enough, these magical keys showed Professor Flitwick's skill, but why would they have a flying broom in the room?

Just to show that Mrs. Hooch had contributed to this room?

Puzzled, Quirrell followed Dumbledore through the wooden door and into the second room.

As soon as they entered the room, the darkened room immediately lit up and a huge chessboard was revealed to the pair.

"No matter how many times I see Minerva's Transfiguration, it's still so amazing." Dumbledore shook his head and turned to Quirrell, "Well? Quirinus, would you be interested in a game of chess?"

"No, no, the proportion of magic is more important."

"...Also."

Dumbledore nodded and said casually, then drew his wand and moved his lips so slightly that Quirrell couldn't hear what he was saying, but the black and white pieces on the board gave way immediately.

Pushing through the center of the huge board, Dumbledore pushed open a second door leading to an empty room.

"This room is in your hands, Quirinus, see how you want to set it up," Dumbledore said.

Quirrell looked around, saw another door on the opposite wall and, after a moment of contemplation, stammered to Dumbledore, "Sorry... sorry for being abrupt.... abrupt, the previous level...it seems.... seems..."

"A little game?", Dumbledore said with a smile and Quirrell nodded.

"Yes, I actually instructed them to do that on purpose," Dumbledore explained, "Mostly, in case Fish convinces Fluffy to sneak down one day, the previous levels are there to block his way, and from what Hagrid said, Fluffy is not without weaknesses, so, if any of the other students accidentally get in, there's enough to stop them."

[Hmph! That's exactly what Dumbledore would do].

Voldemort's voice suddenly rang in Quirrell's head, and he sneered.

[That hypocritical old thing!

Quirrell, who had been wary of the place, was relieved to hear his master say that, he really didn't want to search for the location of the Philosopher's Stone again, God only knew what else he would come across.

"The only real protection against thieves is Fluffy, Severus and myself," Dumbledore smiled, "And of course, you, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I'm sure you won't let me down, Quirinus."

"For...for...of course...leave...leave...leave it to me," Professor Quirrell quickly patted his chest and replied, though he didn't know what level Snape and Dumbledore had prepared, Quirrell wasn't too worried.

After all, with the greatest Dark Lord in history behind his head, no magical trap, whatever it might be, could stop his master.

Completely bewitched, Quirrell was so confident in Voldemort that he seemed to have forgotten that a week ago he had been defeated by an eleven-year-old animagus.

"So, what are you preparing for this level?" Dumbledore's voice woke Quirrell, he pushed himself back against the door, making room for Quirrell, "Hurry up and get it ready, and let's get out of here, I'm still trying to get a good bath before I go to sleep."

"Yeah, okay."

Quirrell pulled a small vial about a foot long from his robes and poured a small figure out of it, followed by an amplification spell after Quirrell pulled out his wand and pointed it at the small figure.

"augurium amplificationis!"

The little man instantly expanded into a figure larger than Hagrid, but he was unconscious and lay motionless on the ground since Quirrell had pulled him out of the jar.

"Oh... troll...," Dumbledore reached up to cover his crooked nose and said hoarsely.

As Quirrell returned the Troll to its original size, a sickening stench spread, far worse than the smell of Quirrell's own outstretched hand.

"Yes...yes...yes, in my class.... class....class, I use...use...use...use trolls, and I...I...just...have...have two...two" Quirrell explained stuttering and left the room with Dumbledore.

After closing the door to keep the troll stench inside, the two went back the way they had come.

But as they were about to go back up through the trapdoor, they ran into a small problem: the trapdoor had closed at some point, and Dumbledore tried to push it twice, but it wouldn't budge.

"Hagrid, are you up there? "Dumbledore called up to the trapdoor and asked aloud.

Then Quirrell heard a voice from above that he hated with a passion.

"Even a bad old man can fall, why can't I?" ?(●ΦДΦ●)?