The mischievous gamer God

Crabbe and Goyle looked at Malfoy and said, "Draco, what are we going to do?"

Malfoy glanced at the large message on the door: "No one leaves till the game is finished." With a nervous sigh, he said, "Isn't it obvious? We finish the game. And we better hurry — I'm not sure Crabbe can withstand the heat much longer." His voice trembled slightly, betraying his usual composure.

Crabbe nodded, his face flushed with sweat. "It's getting bloody unbearable. I'm being cooked," he groaned, tugging at his collar.

Malfoy tossed the dice. They rolled for a moment, then landed: a two and a three. The Jade Monkey moved five paces. Three more paces, and Malfoy would win.

Crabbe and Goyle looked excited. Goyle grinned, his brutish satisfaction on full display. "When your next turn comes, it'll be over."

Malfoy exhaled, relief softening his shoulders—until the gem displayed a new verse:

"Gnawing hunger so profound

Creeping forward without a sound

Swim quickly now, there's much at stake

To the ravenous swarm, a fine meal you make"

Malfoy tried to puzzle it out, eyebrows drawn together, lips twitching—but in moments the room behind him expanded, stretching to the length of a football field. A jungle overtook the space. The center floor sank and filled rapidly with water and thick vegetation.

Malfoy was thrown from his chair to the far side and plunged into the water with a heavy splash. He opened his eyes underwater—and what he saw froze his blood: hundreds of sleek, silver fish with wide, red eyes and interlocking rows of triangular, blade‑like teeth. Their jaws snapped in unison, slicing through water like living razors, driven by an insatiable, cold hunger.

He erupted from the water, gasping and flailing, the swarm closing in as their chomping echoes filled his ears. He screamed in panic, limbs thrashing against their ferocity.

He caught sight of salvation: a moss‑slick log and clumps of floating brush. With desperate strength, he hauled himself up onto it just as the piranhas lunged at his boots—several bursting from the surface, jaws agape, teeth snapping overhead before splashing back with angry hisses. Their bodies glinted like wet blades in the dim light, eyes like rubies set in menacing orbits.

But relief was fleeting. Ahead lay a long stretch of swirling water to reach the game board.

He called out, tears in his eyes, "Crab, your roll!"

Crabbe, wide‑eyed and pale, nodded shakily. He picked up the dice and tossed them.

They landed on a three and a two. The Rhino moved five paces. Two more and Crabbe would win.

The gem formed words, but Crabbe froze. After steeling himself, he read:

"Lions and tigers may fill you with fear

But the true Apex predator you'll never know is near

In the jungle, he will stalk and wait

Pursuing you with predatory gait

Run now, prey — the situation is dire

For now you are hunted by the mighty Jaguar"

The verse was unequivocal. Crabbe's face drained as terror took hold. Before he could react, a vine leapt from the depths and yanked him into dense undergrowth.

He landed amid thick, dark foliage. He drew his wand and whispered, "Lumos." The silver glow revealed a narrow path. He moved forward slowly, the sense of eyes watching weighing heavily. He turned—and through the trees he saw two yellow, unblinking eyes. A soft growl vibrated the silence.

Crabbe bolted in full sprint.

"Your turn! I'll try to make my way over as fast as I can!" he shouted, voice cutting through the jungle's gloom.

Meanwhile, Malfoy paddled the log across the perilous river, branch strokes slow and wary.

Goyle, trembling on dry land, picked up the dice and tossed them. They rested on a two and a one. The Elephant moved three paces. Four more and he would win.

Then the verse reappeared. Goyle's voice cracked as he read:

"Dark corners fill your mind with fear

Listen closely — what's that sound you hear?

The slurp of marrow, the snap of bones

You have entered the place where true evil roams

Escape you must from the Cannibal Catacombs"

Goyle hadn't realized he'd been moved. He looked up: the table and board were gone. He stood in a pitch‑dark cave system, shouts echoing ahead and behind. A labyrinth of tunnels stretched before him, traps likely concealed. He pressed forward—but suddenly the floor gave way beneath him.

He screamed, catching a root to stop his fall. Below lay wooden spikes. His cries echoed and alerted cannibals. Their snarls and shuffling feet drew ever closer.

Back on the river, Malfoy heard the distant cries and accelerated his paddling. Ahead he spotted a large tree. Desperate, Goyle dove off the log and swam for it, piranhas surging at his heels. A few latched onto his robes, tearing through fabric and flesh, dragging him underwater briefly before he broke free with a cry.

He clawed the tree trunk and began to climb. Higher and higher, he climbed, until finally he glimpsed the game board far ahead.

Exhausted and trembling, he drew his wand. His grip faltered. Eyes fixed on the dice, he whispered "Leviosa." The dice levitated, wobbled, then fell. They landed on a two and a one. The Jade Monkey advanced three paces—and as it reached the center of the board, Goyle lost his hold and plummeted back toward the water.

He hit with a final, splashing cry—and the piranhas erupted around him, their thrashing bodies slicing the water like shards of living steel.

He screamed with everything he had: "JUMANJI!!!"

At that moment, chaos peaked: the Jaguar lunged toward Crabbe. Cannibals lifted spears toward Goyle. The jungle roared. The river churned. The cave walls echoed—then everything snapped.

Suddenly, silence.

Each horrifying scene collapsed back into the board. Jungle mist evaporated. Cannibal catacombs faded. The swollen river and its ferocious piranhas dissolved. Professor Snape, freed from vines, dropped onto solid ground.

In an instant, the four of them sat around the closed game board. Crabbe and Goyle collapsed into relieved sobs. Malfoy exhaled shakily—speechless. Snape ran his hands down his face, breathing heavy—and for once, said nothing at all.

Snape pulled out his wand and pointed at the game board, fully intending to destroy it—but before he could, it vanished in a kaleidoscope of shifting colors, leaving nothing but an empty table. Then they heard the doors click unlock. Snape shoved at them; to his relief, they swung open.

He turned to the three boys and said, voice sharp and controlled, "Well. What are you waiting for? Go to your classes." Without pause, he strode toward the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Inside, he found Merlin, poised at the front, preparing for her next lesson. He boomed, "I suppose you think that was terribly clever."

Merlin looked up, lips curved in mild amusement. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Professor Snape."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "That little cursed game board of yours—I know it had something to do with you. You're the only person that's threatened me in the past twenty‑four hours." His voice rang with accusation.

Merlin laughed, a soft, playful sound. "Why do you think it was me?"

Snape's reprimand snapped out: "Because you want rid of me, obviously."

She laughed harder, amused light flickering in her golden eyes. "Professor Snape, if I wanted to kill you—" In an instant she vanished and reappeared behind him, voice low and confident, "I wouldn't have needed a cursed artifact to do it."

Snape spun, caught off guard, a flicker of fear passing his eyes. Merlin continued, calm and unruffled: "Now, if you don't mind, I have a class to prepare for." She made a graceful shooing motion with her hand.

Snape scowled, straightened his robes, then turned and walked away. Once the door clicked shut, Merlin murmured to herself, almost teasingly, "This one doesn't learn, does he? Perhaps I'll need something harder next time."

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Tet, Hestia, Apollo, and Hermes sat before a screen, just finishing watching Snape and the three boys survive Jumanji.

Hestia frowned. "Did you really have to be that hard on them? I'm surprised they survived."

Tet, the light‑hearted God of Games, looked amused. "What are you talking about—the game?" He smiled apologetically. "Hestia, I didn't make the game. I also wasn't controlling any of what happened."

Hestia turned to him, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"

Tet leaned back, expression playful, eyes sparkling with multi‑colored mischief. "That game board was real—and as the god of games, I sensed its cursed nature across dimensions. I just picked it up while exploring new worlds. I showed it to Apollo and Hermes; we thought it would be a fun prank."

Apollo nodded, amused. "The spirit of the board is mischievous, but it's lonely and craves someone to play with. It assured me that no one playing it would truly die—and I told it everything I knew about poetry."

Hermes sighed. "And I told it everything I knew about messing with people."

Tet chuckled. "That explains why it was more ruthless than usual."

Apollo glanced at the empty table on screen. "Where is the game board now?"

Tet's tone turned ominous. "It's exactly where it's meant to be—delivered to someone who needs it, now more than ever."

Elsewhere, on another world, a mysterious game board accompanied by the sound of ominous drums appeared aboard the pirate ship Saber of Xebec. A portly man with crooked teeth, long black beard, heavy captain's coat, green breeches, and polished black boots discovered it. His eyes lit with curiosity and mischief.

He grinned wide and barked in a rough, boisterous tone: "What's this? A game?" He lifted the board and shook it, staring at the swirling images with hunger. "I'll play it tonight with the crew—zehahahaha!"