"I was studying in the classroom next door all afternoon and missed the Halloween feast. My friends probably came looking for me to remind me," Edward explained calmly, standing beside the unconscious troll.
"That's when I heard some noises from the girls' bathroom nearby, so I came to check. Good thing the troll was a bit easier to handle than the books make it out to be."
But McGonagall and Snape both looked visibly skeptical, and even Quirrell, slumped over a toilet, didn't seem to buy the story.
"Is that so, Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger?" McGonagall turned her sharp gaze to her Gryffindor students.
"Speak truthfully, Malfoy, Greengrass," Snape added, his hawk-like eyes scanning the Slytherins.
In that moment, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Daphne, and Malfoy were practically in sync, as if their minds had melded.
They quickly put on their best "we've heard this story before" faces, trying to look as innocent as possible.
Hermione even swallowed the excuse she'd prepared.
They instantly understood what Edward was doing.
He was willing to take the blame for all of them, shielding them from punishment.
What a noble sacrifice!
McGonagall, for her part, ultimately accepted Edward's explanation.
After all, he was probably the only first-year with the guts—or the ability—to pull something like this off.
His father, William, had once charged the Whomping Willow on a broomstick during his school days!
"Even so, this behavior is utterly reckless!" McGonagall's tone was severe.
"Mr. Bedivere, don't think that just because the professors favor you or because you have a smidge of magical talent, you can do whatever you please! Taking on a troll single-handedly? You must be mad!"
"And the rest of you—you six are absolutely insane!"
McGonagall's scolding was fierce.
"Slytherin will lose five points for your severe lack of judgment, Mr. Bedivere!"
"Severus, you don't object, do you?"
Snape nodded, his eyes still fixed on Edward's resolute expression.
"However," McGonagall continued, her tone softening slightly, "it's rare for first-years to face a mountain troll and come out unscathed. Ten points to Slytherin."
"And as for the rest of you," she said, turning to the five trembling students, "your brains may not be up to par, but your courage for your friend is commendable. Two points each."
Harry and Ron couldn't hide their delight. They'd expected to lose points, not gain them!
Malfoy fought to keep from grinning, and even Daphne's usually stoic face betrayed a slight smile.
Hermione glanced guiltily at Edward, Harry, and Ron but said nothing.
Seeing the students relax, McGonagall let out a relieved sigh.
"All of you, get back to your common rooms. The other students are enjoying their Halloween feast."
She adjusted her robes and left the bathroom.
"Malfoy, Greengrass, back to the dorms!" Snape, who'd been standing silently with his hands in his pockets, finally spoke. "Bedivere, come with me."
He pushed through the door and left.
Harry and the others' faces fell.
McGonagall hadn't punished them, but there were three Slytherins involved, not just Gryffindors.
Edward had covered for them all, and now he was stuck spending Halloween with Snape?
Even Malfoy looked like he wanted to speak up for Edward.
"Don't worry. See you in the common room. Happy Halloween," Edward said with a wave, following Snape out of the bathroom.
"Hurry up, you lot. I'll… I'll stay here," Quirrell stammered, reminding the five students that there was still a professor in the room.
They quickly fled the foul-smelling bathroom, leaving Quirrell alone.
After all, he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
The students had initially thought Quirrell was decent enough, aside from the odd smell of his purple turban.
But that impression had vanished when he fainted in the Great Hall.
"Hermione, you saw it! Tell us, how did Edward take down a twelve-foot troll?" Ron asked, buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing like an ant on a hot pan.
He was gutted that he'd been just a step too slow to witness the moment the troll went down.
"Uh, he started with a Confundus Charm and told me to run. Then he moved so fast I couldn't even see him, climbed onto the troll's shoulders, hit it with a Stunning Spell, and smacked its head with a hammer," Hermione recounted.
"Then, just as he was about to pick up the troll's massive club to finish it off, you all showed up."
Her expression screamed, Don't ask me how he could lift that club—I have no idea.
"Merlin's beard, he's so cool! He's basically my hero!" Harry said, and Ron's eyes practically sparkled.
"Regretting not being sorted into Slytherin now, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered from behind.
"Oh, please, Malfoy, like you're one to talk. I'm shocked you'd break school rules to check on someone," Harry shot back.
He wasn't in the mood to bicker, but he was genuinely surprised that Malfoy had joined them to warn Edward.
Was this really a Slytherin?
"Potter, we obviously didn't want to break rules. And if someone hadn't upset Granger so much that she hid crying in the bathroom, we wouldn't have crossed paths tonight, and you wouldn't have piggybacked off Slytherin's points, would you?" Daphne said coolly, shifting the focus to Ron.
Though he hated being called out by a Slytherin, Ron lowered his head guiltily.
"Hermione, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean—"
"It's okay, I know. Thanks for coming to help me," Hermione said, shooting Daphne a grateful look. "And thank Edward for me. Tell him Happy Halloween."
The three Gryffindors shuffled upstairs, nudging each other along.
"Pathetic, getting thanked by a—by a Muggle-born," Malfoy muttered. "We weren't even here for her. I shouldn't have come with you. Edward could've handled it fine."
"Quiet, Draco. You think those two points just fell from the sky?" Daphne retorted. "Though I'll admit, I'm a bit jealous. It would've been epic to see him take down that troll."
The two Slytherins descended the spiral staircase.
The second-floor corridor fell silent again, except for faint whispers coming from the bathroom where the troll lay.
"Master, I'm so sorry. If Snape hadn't interfered, I'd have made it through that door by now!"
But there was no one else in the room with Quirrell.
"Be cautious, Quirrell. Don't let anyone suspect you. Your chances are running out," a raspy voice echoed, seemingly from nowhere.
It sounded like it came from Quirrell's purple turban.
"Yes, Master! I won't fail you! As for this Bedivere… honestly, I didn't expect a first-year to take down a troll single-handedly," Quirrell said carefully.
"I nearly ran into him in the fourth-floor corridor one night."
"Your primary target remains the Philosopher's Stone. As for this boy with the blood of a Round Table Knight, we may find a use for him yet."
"Yes, Master."
The sinister voice faded as Quirrell slipped out of the bathroom.
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