Chapter 29: The Three-Headed Dog, Luwei

After parting ways with the Weasley brothers, the Halloween feast was nearly ready to begin.

At this hour, professors and students were all in the Great Hall; not a soul could be seen outside.

Silven turned toward the stairs, but as he passed the entrance to the dungeons, he faintly heard a muffled sound and a faint, foul odor.

Clearly, the troll had been released—he had to move quickly.

Without hesitation, Silven immediately quickened his pace and sprinted upstairs.

His movements were swift, and the stairs cooperated perfectly; he reached the third floor with almost no effort.

“Meow!”

“Damn it, it’s you again, you stupid cat—get out, get out right now!”

At the same time, a chorus of cat yowls and Filch’s furious shouts suddenly erupted from upstairs.

The sounds grew fainter and vanished at the end of the corridor.

Silven seized the opportunity and rushed to the fourth floor.

This time, he encountered no obstacles; he reached the locked door with ease.

He drew his wand and tapped the lock.

“Alohomora!”

No reaction.

Well, this was exactly what Silven had anticipated… a door guarded by Professor McGonagall in her Animagus form wouldn’t be so easily opened.

Silven decisively sheathed his wand and pulled from another pocket a green, branch-like object.

A Tree-Boa, taken from Hagrid.

As a wandmaker, Silven had learned since childhood how to deal with these little creatures.

After paying the price of two earth toads, the Tree-Boa slithered into the keyhole.

Click. The door opened, and Silven exhaled in relief.

Fortunately, Dumbledore probably hadn’t expected anyone to reach this far—only a simple anti-lock charm had been cast. Had he been more cautious, Silven would have failed entirely.

Silven yanked the door open.

Though he had prepared himself mentally, when he finally saw the three-headed dog—ten feet tall, like a full-grown elephant—he felt his legs go weak.

Three pairs of darting, vicious eyes locked onto him at once; three drooling maws opened simultaneously, saliva like sticky ropes dripping from yellowed fangs.

Startled by Silven’s sudden intrusion, the dog didn’t charge immediately—but the next second, all three heads let out ear-splitting roars.

Without hesitation, Silven pulled out the item he’d bought from the Weasley twins, tore off the coarse leather wrapping, and revealed a crudely made toy inside.

It was indeed a toy—Baruffio the Bizarre, somewhat like a Muggle music box. Though not as famous as The Tales of Beedle the Bard, it was still one of the childhood memories of young wizards.

With the wrapping gone, “Baruffio” immediately began playing its harp with cheerful energy.

The moment the clear notes sounded, the barking ceased.

The dog’s eyes drooped; it swayed unsteadily, then collapsed with a thud, fast asleep.

Looking at the dog, now lying like a small mountain, Silven steadied himself and gathered courage to step forward.

As he drew closer, he could still feel the dog’s hot, foul breath—disgusting.

Silven held his breath, circled behind the dog, and grabbed its tail with both hands, yanking hard.

The dog suddenly shuddered—Silven’s heart leapt into his throat.

Fortunately, it didn’t wake.

Silven patted his chest, mustered his courage, and tugged at several more spots.

He pulled away the longest hairs from the dog’s lower back, front legs, and heads.

The dog remained asleep; gradually, Silven’s courage grew. He reached toward the dog’s wide-open mouth and gripped a tooth nearly three inches long.

This thing couldn’t possibly be pulled out—Silven had another plan, but he had only one chance; he had to prepare in advance.

First, open the door to create an escape route; then take the toy and erase all traces of his presence.

After completing these steps, Silven pulled from his pocket a wand—a half-finished one, with only a narrow gap left unsealed.

“Forgive me, Luwei. I’ll make it up to you later.”

Silven silently apologized, shoved the wand into the tooth gap, and completed the final assembly.

One,

Two,

Three…

Boom!

The wand exploded, followed by the three-headed dog’s agonized howl.

Though the dog had thick skin and tough flesh, a blast pressed right against its face—especially inside its mouth, unprotected by fur—was unbearable.

Several teeth were instantly blown loose.

Silven snatched them with lightning speed, pushed off hard with his feet, and sprinted out the door without looking back—slamming and locking it in one fluid motion.

Listening to the roars inside and feeling the lingering warmth on the back of his neck, Silven felt a surge of relief, leaning against the door as he gasped for breath.

Cherrywood, Redcap nerve… what a fiery combination.

Though the process had been perilous, look at the gains—everything was worth it.

Silven opened his hands: in each palm, he held a dog’s tooth, nearly the size of his palm.

An unexpected bonus—mainly because the explosion had been far louder than he’d expected, causing both teeth to fly loose.

No wonder Luwei’s howl had been so agonizing.

Silven felt a twinge of guilt. He’d have to visit the school kitchen later and bring some meat as compensation—though he wasn’t sure if guarding this door included meals.

But that was for later. The commotion had already spread—he had to leave this place before the professors arrived.

Then Silven looked up…

Honestly, he wanted to curse.

At the other end of the corridor stood a troll, nearly twelve feet tall, motionless—and accompanied by a powerful stench.

He’d been too tense, focused entirely on the other side of the door; he hadn’t noticed the smell.

But why was the troll here…? Oh, right—in Quirrell’s plan, the troll’s original target had always been the fourth floor.

Without Harry and Ron to block it, it had simply walked straight here.

Realizing this, Silven wanted to curse even more—and worse, the troll’s ugly little eyes had just spotted him.

Without hesitation, the troll instinctively lumbered toward him, raising its wooden club.

A troll ahead, the three-headed dog’s chamber behind—Silven was trapped in the middle, watching the troll’s sprinting speed increase.

Fighting head-on… was impossible. Not only could he not win, but the sheer impact of a twelve-foot behemoth charging at him would crush him.

No time to think. Silven gritted his teeth, slammed his palm against the keyhole, and shouted:

“Open it!”

Fortunately, the Tree-Boa was still inside.

It too had seen the charging troll, frozen in terror—but at Silven’s shout, it snapped back to life, its survival instinct flaring. It unlocked the door faster than before.

Silven yanked the door open, snatched the pointed hat hanging from his robe, and raised his wand.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

The hat flew upward, landing perfectly over the troll’s eyes.

Blinded, the troll panicked, instinctively trying to stop—but a twelve-foot giant couldn’t halt on a dime.

Instead of stopping, it stumbled forward, its massive, clumsy body lurching headlong—right into the open doorway.

…

(End of Chapter)