THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR
something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the
gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.
“It’s okay!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp,
which was the open trapdoor, “it’s a soft landing, you can jump!”
Ron followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to Harry.
“What’s this stuff?” were his first words.
“Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break
the fall. Come on, Hermione!”
The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog,
but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other
side.
“We must be miles under the school,” she said.
“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron.
“Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!”
She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to
struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started
to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and
Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers
without their noticing.
Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a
firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought
to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the
tighter and faster the plant wound around them.
“Stop moving!” Hermione ordered them. “I know what this
is — it’s Devil’s Snare!”
“Oh, I’m so glad we know what it’s called, that’s a great help,”
snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling
around his neck.
277