A few minutes after Quirrell's dramatic announcement, the students from all four Houses were being led out of the Great Hall by their prefects, the playful chaos of the feast now replaced with a nervous, excited energy.
Dracula, left standing near Quirrell's prone form, chuckled softly, a low sound that held a hint of dark amusement.
He stepped into the deserted Entrance Courtyard corridor, the moonlight filtering through the arched windows. Withdrawing the ancient Hogwarts deed, he channelled his magic into the aged parchment.
The magic intertwined with the lingering imprints of the four founders, slowly coalescing into a luminous grid representing the entire castle. Each magical node within Hogwarts sprang to life, vividly illuminating every hidden corner and secret passage.
Dracula scanned the parchment, his gaze lingering on the Great Hall where the students, faces a mixture of lingering joy and sudden disappointment, were being shepherded toward their respective common rooms. Then, his attention shifted to a shadowy figure striding purposefully toward the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor: Snape, his usual air of foreboding amplified in the moonlight.
Quirrell, in stark contrast, remained motionless, standing blankly before the giant pumpkin in the Great Hall, seemingly paralysed by fear.
With this comprehensive magical surveillance in place, the escaped troll was quickly located. But just as Dracula prepared to settle in and watch the impending drama unfold, two familiar figures caught his attention.
"Oh?" he murmured, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. And then, he vanished from the spot.
The scene shifted back in time, to the moments before, when Harry had been enjoying his Halloween feast when Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, breathlessly warning of the troll in the dungeons.
Now, Percy, the Gryffindor prefect, led his flock of young lions towards the Gryffindor common room, situated high on the eighth floor, as they passed a gaggle of Hufflepuff badgers hurrying in the opposite direction.
As they stepped onto the staircase leading to the eighth floor, Harry suddenly stopped, his face clouding with anxiety. He grabbed Ron by the arm.
"I just remembered—Hermione!" he exclaimed.
"What about her?" Ron asked, his reluctance evident. Earlier that day, Ron had criticised Hermione for her know-it-all attitude during Charms class, cruelly suggesting she had no friends because of her behaviour. Unbeknownst to him, Hermione had overheard his harsh words.
The proud little witch had been deeply hurt and hadn't been seen all afternoon, not even attending the Halloween feast, not wanting anyone to see her upset.
Harry suddenly remembered something else he had overheard before the feast – Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that Hermione was sadly crying in the girls' bathroom and wouldn't let anyone comfort her.
Harry realised with a jolt that Hermione wasn't with the Gryffindors. She might be completely alone when she encountered the troll.
"Ron, Hermione doesn't know about the troll!" he said urgently. "It's our fault she didn't attend the feast. We can't just stand by and do nothing!"
Ron bit his lip, his expression a mixture of guilt and concern.
"Oh, alright," he conceded, making a quick decision. "But Percy mustn't see us."
Having made their choice, Harry and Ron ducked down, melting into the passing Hufflepuff crowd, and headed back in the opposite direction.
They quietly slipped through an empty side corridor, their footsteps quickening as they hurried toward the girls' bathroom. An increasingly foul stench assaulted their nostrils, coupled with a low, guttural rumble and the distinct sound of something large and heavy dragging along the ground.
The next moment, a terrifying sight erupted before them.
A monstrous troll, at least twelve feet tall, lumbered into view from around the corner. Its skin was dull and greyish, resembling rough granite. Its huge, clumsy body looked like a misshapen pile of giant rocks topped with a disproportionately small head, no larger than a cocoa bean.
Its short legs were as thick as tree stumps, ending in flat, calloused feet. The stench radiating from the creature was overwhelming: a potent mixture of dirty socks and an uncleaned public toilet that threatened to induce vomiting.
The monster also carried a massive wooden club, which it dragged along the stone floor, creating a piercing, eerie sound that echoed through the corridor.
Outside, the Halloween feast had ended, and the enchanted thunderclouds had dissipated. Bright moonlight streamed through the tall windows of Hogwarts Castle.
In the shadows beneath the moonlight, a bat with sleek, black fur hung upside down from a gargoyle, its ruby eyes gleaming. Perhaps it was an illusion, but the bat seemed to be watching the unfolding scene inside a nearby bathroom with rapt interest.
Following the bat's unseen gaze, one could witness a fierce, desperate battle raging within the girls' bathroom on the first floor.
Provoked by Ron's repeated taunts, the troll had shifted its lumbering attention away from a terrified Hermione and cornered the red-haired boy.
Seeing this, Harry steeled his resolve and jumped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He wrapped his arms around the troll's thick neck from behind. As he leaped, he thrust his wand directly up one of the troll's cavernous nostrils.
The troll roared in agony, thrashing its gargantuan body wildly and flailing its massive club. Harry knew he could be thrown off at any moment, then crushed by that immense, brutal weapon.
But, at this critical juncture, the troll's violent thrashing abruptly ceased. The creature froze mid-motion.
This sudden stillness caught Harry completely off guard, causing him to lose his grip and tumble off the troll's back, landing hard on the cold, tiled floor.
In the corner, Ron clutched his wand tightly, his face pale with fear. He stared blankly at the troll, frozen in place before him, at a complete loss for what to do.
"Mr. Potter, if anyone ever asks you in the future," a familiar voice drawled from the bathroom entrance, "please do not say that I taught you Defence Against the Dark Arts. I simply cannot afford to suffer such a loss of face."
Harry looked up in stunned surprise, his eyes widening as he recognised the source of the dryly amused voice. Standing tall and elegant in the bathroom doorway, his silver hair gleaming in the moonlight and his wine-red eyes glinting with amusement, was Professor Dracula.
"Professor Dracula!!" Harry exclaimed in a surge of relief, momentarily forgetting the disdainful expression on Dracula's face.
Then, the adrenaline drained from his system, and he felt as if all the strength had been leached from his limbs. The fleeting courage he had mustered to jump onto the troll's back now seemed like a distant dream. A wave of overwhelming fear washed over him, and he collapsed weakly to the floor.
Dracula, with a dismissive wave of his hand, swept away the foul air emanating from the troll. He stepped gracefully forward, coming to stand beside the three young wizards.
"Mr. Potter," he said, looking calmly down at Harry, who was still sitting on the floor, "please recite for me the content of our first lesson. When confronted with a dangerous situation, what is the most appropriate response?"
***********
✨ 300 gems = 1 bonus chapter
✨ 500 gems = another bonus chapter
Get access to advanced chapters at my P@treon.
p@treon.com/meowthtl