A Certain Magical Hogwarts

William may not have mastered the Fiendfyre Curse or the control of fiendfyre, but since this was a puzzle designed by Dumbledore, there had to be a key to solve it.

The group approached the table, and Hermione picked up a scroll of parchment lying beside the bottles. She read aloud:

-Danger lies ahead, safety behind. Two of us can help you. Drink us—one will lead you forward, the other will send you back to where you began.

-Two contain nettle wine. Three are killers, waiting in line. Choose wisely, unless you wish to remain here forever.

-We offer four clues to aid your choice:

*First, no matter how cunningly poison hides, it will always be to the left of nettle wine.

*Second, the bottles at the ends contain different things. Neither will help you move forward.

*Third, the bottles vary in size. Neither the giant nor the dwarf holds death.

*Fourth, the second on the left and the second on the right may look different but taste the same.

When Hermione finished, William smiled. "A simple logic puzzle. I wonder who came up with it."

"Given these potions, it's probably Snape's work," Cedric said, glancing at the bottles.

Hermione also smiled. "Many of the greatest wizards lack logical reasoning skills. They'd be stuck here forever. But this puzzle isn't too difficult."

William nodded. To be honest, Muggles excelled in logic thanks to their educational system, which instilled strong reasoning skills.

"How about we see who can solve it first?" Hermione suggested.

William conjured a blank piece of parchment with his wand, then produced a quill. 

Grinning, he said, "You all work on the puzzle. I'll leave a little gift for Professor Snape."

After a moment of thought, he quickly scribbled on the parchment:

-Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore each hold a non-zero natural number. It is known that the product of their numbers is either 8 or 16.

-Snape: 'I don't know Dumbledore's number.'

-Dumbledore: 'I don't know Snape's number either.'

-Snape: 'I still don't know.'

-Dumbledore: 'I still don't know.'

-Snape: 'I know now.'

-Dumbledore: 'I know now too.'

-What are the numbers they are holding?

William placed the parchment on the table just as Hermione announced her solution to Snape's puzzle.

"I've got it! The smallest bottle is the one that lets us pass through the black flames," she said, clapping her hands in excitement.

William picked up the tiny, nondescript bottle, sniffed it, and muttered, "A potion I've never seen before. Snape's really something—he can even invent a potion to counter fiendfyre. Terrifying."

"Is there enough in this tiny bottle for all of us?" Cedric asked.

William conjured six straws with Transfiguration. "If we each take a few drops, there'll be enough."

He took a few drops through a straw, the potion's icy chill spreading instantly through his body.

The others followed suit, carefully sipping a few drops each, leaving just a small amount in the bottle.

William left the nettle wine bottles behind but took the remaining potions.

"This potion suppresses fiendfyre. I need to study it," he said seriously. "I'll try to identify the ingredients."

"Can that really be done?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Of course," William explained. "Using Scarpin's Revealspell, you can analyze potion components. It's a complex process and takes time, but it works."

He held up the other bottles. "And these poisons. Since Snape brewed them, they're undoubtedly potent. I'll see if I can create antidotes. According to Golphaott's Third Law, the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components.

This involves isolating each ingredient's antidote and finding an additional transformative element—a process akin to alchemy..."

The others stared blankly, as though listening to a lecture from an advanced Potions textbook meant for sixth-years.

Hermione, though unable to follow entirely, looked fascinated, as if finding the method inherently interesting.

After a while, William stepped into the fiendfyre. The black flames licked his body, but he felt nothing.

For a brief moment, his vision was consumed by the black fire—then he emerged on the other side, entering the final room.

It was a spacious, beautiful circular chamber filled with whimsical, tinkling noises. Odd silver instruments sat on spindly-legged tables, spinning and emitting tiny puffs of smoke.

The walls were lined with portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses, all feigning sleep but clearly smirking.

Wait—this room looked awfully familiar.

"Uh—this is the Headmaster's office?!"

In the chill of September, William felt a wave of cold dread. He spun around, ready to leave.

Dumbledore had set up such an elaborate challenge... just to catch students wandering the castle at night?

He was fishing for troublemakers!

How boring could he be?

As William turned to retreat, Cedric and the others spilled into the room behind him.

Fred, spotting the silver instruments, burst out laughing. "Is this our reward for completing the challenge?"

"Reward, my foot!" William hissed, urging him to lower his voice. "Let's go—this is Dumbledore's office!"

The group froze, their expressions stiff as they scrambled to leave.

"Since you're already here," a voice called out warmly, "why not stay here for a chat? I enjoy getting to know my students before bed.

"Especially when they're not in their dormitories at midnight but... here."

The door to the adjoining bedroom opened, and out stepped Dumbledore in a plush purple bathrobe, a bobbled nightcap perched on his head.

In his arms was Boba Tea, looking innocently at its owner and meowing weakly.

They had literally crashed a party at the Headmaster's bedroom door.

Standing at the front, William forced an awkward smile, while Hermione shrank behind him, trying to make herself invisible.

"I told you we shouldn't have come!" she whispered, and if Dumbledore was here, she would've shouted.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore said kindly.

Six chairs materialized beneath them, forcing them to sit.

"Would you like a drink?" Dumbledore mused aloud. "Milk, perhaps? A warm glass before bed is good for digestion."

With a wave of his wand, six steaming glasses of milk appeared on the table.

"Ah, Boba Tea, there you are!" William exclaimed, seeming to finally see his cat.

Forcing a laugh, he added, "I thought you'd gone missing! That's why we were wandering the castle looking for you. Who knew you'd be with the Headmaster… hahaha..."

Cedric and the others nodded quickly, offering equally forced laughs to corroborate the excuse.

Dumbledore smiled faintly, settling into his chair.

"Well then," he began cheerfully, "you've broken at least a dozen school rules tonight. How many points should I deduct from each of you?"

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