Dudley moved swiftly through the deserted corridors, his destination the forbidden section on the right side of the fourth floor.
Has Quirrell already found a way past the Cerberus? he wondered. The three-headed dog was a formidable beast, its magical nature granting it resistance to most conventional spells. A direct assault would be loud, messy, and certain to attract the attention of Dumbledore. Stealing the Philosopher's Stone was one thing; surviving the attempt was another entirely.
"In such a hurry, Dursley. Where might you be going?"
A silky, menacing voice drifted from the shadows. Dudley froze, turning his head stiffly. Professor Snape emerged from an intersecting corridor, his black robes billowing behind him as he advanced.
"Professor Snape," Dudley greeted, his expression unreadable.
"First-year students were instructed to return to their dormitories," Snape said, his dark eyes narrowing as if trying to peel back the layers of Dudley's composure. "So I ask again, what are you doing on the fourth floor?" He glanced towards the end of the corridor, a cold, knowing sneer spreading across his face. "Wait. You wouldn't be heading for the forbidden corridor, would you?"
The sneer deepened into a triumphant smirk. "This time, Dursley, let's see you talk your way out of this."
Dudley's mind raced. He schooled his features into an expression of polite confusion. "I'm afraid I got turned around, Professor. You know how the staircases are always changing. I was just trying to find my way back to Gryffindor Tower."
"Oh?" Snape's voice dripped with disbelief. "Was that intentional, or accidental?"
"Accidental, of course," Dudley insisted calmly. "As you can see, I haven't actually entered the corridor. If you want to catch me breaking a rule, Professor, perhaps you should wait until I've actually broken one."
Snape's expression darkened.
"By the way, Professor," Dudley added, his tone deceptively casual. "I just saw Professor Quirrell hurrying this way. He seemed quite flustered. I wonder if he took a wrong turn as well? Perhaps you should check on him."
"Quirrell?" The change in Snape's demeanor was instantaneous. The triumphant sneer vanished, replaced by a tense, agitated urgency. "Are you certain?"
"Positive," Dudley said. "That turban of his is hard to miss."
"You had better not be lying to me, Dursley!" Snape hissed. Forgetting all about deducting points from Gryffindor, he turned and swept down the corridor towards the forbidden area, his robes snapping behind him.
It seems Snape already suspects Quirrell, Dudley thought, watching him go. Either that, or he came here specifically to stop him and just happened to run into me.
He gave a slight shrug. "Well, that saves me the trouble." With Snape intercepting Quirrell, the immediate threat to the Stone was likely neutralized. Dudley turned and headed back downstairs, deciding to find Harry and Ron.
From behind a nearby statue, Malfoy's face was a mask of pure frustration.
"Why did Professor Snape have to show up now?" he seethed. "A few more steps and Dursley would have been caught. He could have been expelled!"
Crabbe looked visibly relieved. "Looks like we can't get him this time, Draco. Let's go back."
"Wait," Malfoy whispered, his eyes gleaming with renewed hope as he watched Dudley descend the stairs. "He's not going back to the common room. He's going down. Follow him!"
He wasn't giving up that easily. He was determined to catch Dudley in the act. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a weary look but had no choice but to obey.
The castle was now eerily empty, the corridors silent and devoid of even a single ghost. Dudley made his way towards the dungeons. As he descended the final staircase, a truly foul stench assaulted his nostrils.
It's as bad as the dung pile, he thought, wrinkling his nose. It was the unmistakable smell of a troll, a putrid combination of old socks and an unflushed lavatory that made him wish he could instantly lose his sense of smell.
He rounded a corner and saw them. Harry and Ron were crouched behind a statue at the far end of the corridor. Not far from them, a monstrous, twelve-foot-tall mountain troll was lumbering slowly through a doorway. Its skin was a dull, granite-grey, its lumpy body topped with a disproportionately tiny, bald head. It dragged a massive wooden club, the end scraping dully against the stone floor.
Just as the troll disappeared completely inside the room, Dudley watched in horror as Harry and Ron darted out from their hiding spot. They slammed the heavy wooden door shut, twisted the key in the lock, and pulled it free, grinning at each other in triumph.
Dudley felt his blood run cold. "That's the girls' lavatory! What are you doing?" he yelled, sprinting towards them.
"What?" Harry and Ron looked at him, their triumphant smiles faltering into confusion.
"AAAAAAH!"
A terrified scream erupted from behind the locked door. The sound hit Harry and Ron like a physical blow, their faces turning a shade of white paler than any ghost. They had only thought about trapping the troll; it had never occurred to them that someone might already be inside.
"Quick, the key! Open the door!" Harry yelled, panicking.
Ron fumbled with the key, his hands shaking as he jammed it back into the lock and threw the door open.
CRASH!
The next sound was an explosive bang that drowned out Hermione's piercing scream. The troll swung its massive club, and an entire row of toilet stalls shattered into a cascade of wood and porcelain. Hermione, thinking fast, had thrown herself to the floor, narrowly avoiding being pulverized.
Dudley was already there. He burst past Harry and Ron into the destroyed lavatory, his wand already in his hand. Without a moment's hesitation, he aimed at the troll as it raised its club for another devastating swing.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
A jet of brilliant red light shot from his wand, striking the troll square in the chest. Its arms snapped to its sides, its legs locked together, and the massive creature stood frozen, as rigid as a statue, before toppling over with a ground-shaking thud that cracked the tiled floor.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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