The warmth of victory still buzzed in Harry's chest as he and his friends wandered the castle, laughing and chatting about Gryffindor's win. The cheers from the crowd, the thrill of flight, the weight of the Snitch in his palm—it had all been exhilarating.
But Hogwarts had a way of turning exhilaration into trouble.
They had no intention of going to the forbidden third-floor corridor, but the castle had other plans.
As they climbed a staircase, it shuddered and groaned before moving, its stone steps shifting mid-air, rerouting them entirely.
"Not again," Ron groaned, gripping the rail.
"I think this is the wrong way," Hermione muttered.
The staircase finally locked into place, depositing them in a dimly lit hallway. Harry's sharp eyes darted around. The air felt… off.
"Where are we?" Ron asked.
Hermione paled. "The third floor."
"The forbidden one?"
"The very one."
A low meow broke the silence.
Harry stiffened. Filch's cat.
"Run," he ordered, and they bolted, sprinting down the hall before Mrs. Norris could alert her master.
"Door!" Hermione hissed, pointing to a locked entrance.
"It's locked!" Ron panicked.
"For a reason," Harry interjected.
Hermione was already pulled out her wand and cast a spell to save their behinds. "Alohomora!"
The door swung open, and they dove inside, shutting it behind them.
Panting, Ron grinned. "Close call."
Harry's instincts screamed at him. Something is wrong.
A low rumbling snore filled the room.
The three of them turned—
And froze.
A massive, three-headed dog lay sprawled on the floor, its enormous chests rising and falling as it slumbered.
Ron made a noise between a squeak and a gasp. Hermione grabbed Harry's sleeve, her nails digging into his skin.
Then—
One of the heads sniffed.
The second head twitched.
The third head opened its eyes.
All three heads turned toward them.
Harry barely had time to hiss, "Run, again."
The beast roared, saliva flying from its gnashing teeth as it lunged.
The trio scrambled for the door. Ron yanked it open just as the monstrous dog leapt—
SLAM!
They threw the door shut and fell against it, hearts hammering.
Ron wheezed. "What the bloody hell was that?"
"The third-floor corridor is guarded," Hermione whispered.
Harry exhaled, his mind racing. "And whatever it's guarding…" He glanced back at the door. "Must be something really important."
The next day started normally—until it didn't.
During Charms, Professor Flitwick had them practicing Wingardium Leviosa.
Ron, bless his soul, was terrible at it.
"Wingardium Levi-o-sa," Hermione corrected him, her tone a little too smug, she just couldn't sound differently when explaining things.
"Shove off," Ron muttered.
After class, he muttered a bit louder.
"No wonder she's got no friends," he grumbled.
But Hermione heard.
Her face crumpled, and she turned on her heel, vanishing down the corridor.
Harry frowned.
That was harsh.
At dinner, he noticed Hermione's absence. His unease deepened.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Dunno," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Probably sulking."
Harry set down his fork. His instincts nagged at him.
He got up.
"Oi, mate, where are you—?"
"I'll be back," Harry called, already moving.
Something felt wrong.
The castle was eerily empty as he searched the halls.
Then—
A thunderous crash echoed from the girls' bathroom.
Harry's stomach dropped.
He sprinted toward the sound, shoving open the door—
And froze.
A massive troll loomed over a trembling Hermione, its ugly face twisted in dim-witted rage.
It clutched a colossal club, the stone dripping from previous destruction.
Hermione's back was pressed against the wall, her breath coming in terrified gasps.
The troll raised its club—
Harry moved.
He didn't think. He acted.
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell hit the troll's weapon, knocking its swing off-balance. Instead of crushing Hermione, the club smashed into the tiles, sending stone shrapnel flying.
"Move!" Harry barked.
Hermione scrambled away as the troll turned to face Harry, its beady eyes narrowing.
It's slow. Use that to your advantage.
Harry flicked his wand. "Aguamenti!"
A blast of water shot from his wand, hitting the ground beneath the troll's feet.
The beast took a step forward—
And slipped.
With a deafening crash, it toppled, its massive body shaking the ground like an earthquake.
Harry didn't waste time.
"Diffindo!" He slashed his wand, aiming for the throat—
The spell barely left a scratch.
Too thick.
The troll growled, pushing itself up.
A red haze flickered at the edges of Harry's vision.
He wouldn't let it get back up.
He wouldn't let it hurt Hermione.
With a sharp breath, he raised his wand. His mind went blank, instincts taking over.
No incantation.
No thought.
Just will.
The Will to Kill.
Harry swung his wand in a wide, instinctive arc—
A howling wind surged from his fingertips. Frost spread from the troll's feet upward, encasing its legs in thick ice.
Before it could react, Harry twisted his wand—
CRACK!
A bolt of lightning erupted from his palm, slamming into the troll's open wound.
Electricity surged through its body.
The troll shuddered—
Then collapsed.
Smoke curled from its unmoving form.
Silence.
Harry exhaled sharply, his hands trembling from the magic.
"Harry…"
He turned.
Hermione was staring at him with wide, teary eyes.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked.
She let out a shaky breath. "You… you saved me."
Before he could respond, the bathroom doors burst open.
Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore stormed in.
Their eyes fell on the dead troll.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then McGonagall turned to Harry, face pale with fury. "Mister Potter, what were you thinking—?"
Harry's exhaustion snapped.
"I don't know, Professor," he interrupted, voice flat. "Maybe I was thinking about how a troll got into the school.
Maybe I was thinking about how nobody checked to make sure all the students were safe.
Maybe I was thinking about how I'm the one who had to kill it, instead of the actual adults in charge."
McGonagall opened her mouth—then closed it.
Because he was right.
Dumbledore stepped forward, stroking his beard, eyes twinkling.
"Well spoken, my boy," he said softly. "And well fought."
A pause.
Then—
"100 points to Gryffindor."
Harry blinked. "…What?"
"For courage, quick thinking, and… extraordinary magical ability."
McGonagall sighed, rubbing her temples. "At least pretend to reprimand him, Headmaster."
Dumbledore merely chuckled.
Harry turned to Hermione. She still looked shaken but managed a small, watery smile.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Harry smiled back. "Anytime, Mione."
"That's what Friends are for."