This Hogwarts isn't normal.

After knocking out the giant he had arranged, Quirrell came to Snape's level.

He walked to the table with seven small bottles and took the parchment in his hand.

[Danger is in front of you, safety is behind you.

Two of us can help you.

Drink them, one will lead you forward, and the other will send you back to where you were.

Two of them contain nettle wine.

Three are killers waiting in line.

Choose, unless you want to stay here forever.

We also provide four clues to help you choose:

First, no matter how cunningly the poison hides, they are actually standing to the left of the nettle wine;

Second, the contents of the bottles on the left and right are different. If you want to move forward, they will not be useful to you;

Third, you will find that the bottles are of different sizes, and there is no death hidden in the giants and dwarfs;

Fourth, the second on the left and the second on the right, although they look different, taste the same. ]

"Boring logic problem--"

The voice in Quirrell's mind was very impatient.

Last week, when Filch took away some snakes, he saw the cute Fluffy.

What to do? Sneak into Snape's office.

Three bottles of Hell Potion, I guess I can sleep until dawn.

Devil's Snare? Very simple.

The key is a bit difficult, mainly because I'm not familiar with it and can't use the summoning spell.

Wizard chess is okay, but it took more than half an hour.

As for knocking out the troll, he has always been very good at it.

"My noble master, Dumbledore will definitely cast a powerful spell."

Quirrell picked up the smallest bottle, "Of course, he will definitely not be your opponent - yes, I'll drink it now."

He took a small sip, and felt that the amount was not enough, so he took another sip.

Putting down the bottle with only two-thirds left, he slowly walked towards the black flames in front of him.

The next moment, he appeared in a large empty house.

"Let me see -"

Quirrell carefully opened his cloak and slowly untied the long scarf wrapped around his forehead.

When the last part fell, there was an ugly face with a distorted face on the back of his head.

Cruel, cold eyes slowly scanned the whole room.

"Heh, it's still in your hand, Dumbledore..."

There is no trace of magic here, nor is there a mechanism to hide the Philosopher's Stone.

Although it was early, it was not without gain.

"My noble master, I will definitely be faster next time."

"Even so--"

The big face on the back of his head smiled grimly, "There is a unicorn in that forest, and I need its blood."

Quirrell agreed with trepidation.

Any black magic has a price to pay.

The three unforgivable curses will gradually change one's personality.

And the magic that can attach to a living person in the form of a soul will naturally not be too low.

But Quirrell, who did not drink the potion to teleport back, had a complicated expression at this moment.

After dispersing a large group of winged keys, he raised his hand and pushed open the door.

He was so worried that he didn't notice the small rope as thin as a hair lying outside.

"Pah--"

He fell to the ground.

What was even more sad was that there were a few darts stuck there.

The four figures in the corner were all so surprised that they couldn't close their mouths.

With this level, they wanted to leave Hogwarts after taking the things?

"Hahaha--"

Quirrell, who was lying on the ground and laughing crazily, forced himself to stand up with his hands.

The wounds pierced by bat darts looked particularly creepy in the dim light.

"Dumbledore, can you finally hold it back!"

He raised his wand high, and his big face under the cloak was full of excitement.

But before he could get excited for long, a small black thing flew over.

"You are corrupted, Dumbledore!"

He pulled the alder wand in his hand forward with force.

After a "bang", the shattered object released a lot of smoke.

The skin on the back of his hand that came into contact with them instantly turned red.

Quirrell, in pain, quickly clenched his wand.

"Idiot, that's not Dumbledore---

Get out, there are three of them!"

As the voice rang in his mind, he quickly bent over and rolled outward.

"Pah--"

After rolling out of the smoke, another small thing fell nearby.

Quirrell's big red face under his cloak looked extremely flustered.

He was not afraid of Dumbledore, so what was he afraid of?

"Don't think I don't know what you're thinking!"

This angry roar drove him to pass his wand in front of him.

As if there was an invisible suction force, all the nearby smoke was concentrated on the tip of the wand.

"It's actually a silent spell---"

The low voice from the other side made him frown subconsciously.

Even if it was said with a suppressed throat, it sounded familiar.

"Disillusionment spell!"

This shout disrupted Quirrell's thinking.

Chanting a spell? There is no need to recite the Disillusionment Charm.

Before he could shake off the smoke ball on his wand, he heard a very loud roar.

"Damn, there is another one——"

After the voice in his mind flashed away, he flew to the left in a very un-wizard manner.

The red light that exploded on the floor brought up several small fragments.

Quirrell quickly stood up and lit up his wand, finally able to see the four people opposite him clearly.

The leader was wearing a dark gray tights and a black cape, a black half-face helmet with sharp corners on both sides, and a very conspicuous bat pattern on his chest.

The one on the left was dressed in black, with a bat-shaped eye mask on his face, and a blue line on his chest extending to his shoulders.

The one on the right was wearing a red top, a yellow cape, a black eye mask, and green sleeves, gloves and boots. There was also a yellow letter "R" on the left chest.

The one at the end was wearing a black tights, and the eye mask he wore was connected to the two cat ears on his head. There was a small claw on the tips of his ten fingers.

Quirrell was a little confused.

Compared with the opposite side, his black cloak was as plain as if he had just walked out of the ravine.

"Who are you?"

"Batman."

"Nightwing."

"Robin."

"Catwoman."

The last Catwoman said with a bit of reluctance.

After hearing the names of the four people, Quirrell was shaking all over.

If you want to fool people, just say it directly. What are you doing with all these things?

"Knock them out, starting from the middle one--"

He didn't have time to think about why the voice was so fearful, and raised the alder wand in his hand while aiming at Batman in the middle.

But the other party was one step faster.

"Heh, you don't even have a wand--"

With the height of a fourth-grade student at most, can you cast spells without a wand?

However, a tiny flame popped out from the palm of the empty right hand on the opposite side.

Quirrell, whose pupils shrank instantly, could clearly see a small yellow peanut-shaped thing shooting towards him at a very fast speed.

"Puff--"

He was shot in the thigh!

The big face under the cloak was grinning, staring at the opposite side fiercely.

"Fainted --"

"Quickly imprisoned --"

"Many obstacles --"

Quirrell heard three spells coming from the opposite side at the same time, and began to curse in his heart.

Bringing Muggle weapons is fine, but it's actually four against one.

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