Corvus had not been expecting Potter to act recklessly, to run off after Granger the moment he realized she was missing to be honest. But for the dimmest Weasley to follow him as well? That made him pause. It felt suspicious, almost as though something larger was at play. Some force was tugging events back into alignment with the "canon" timeline he remembered, trying to ensure the pieces fell into place. He narrowed his eyes at the thought. Was there really a correcting force hidden behind the veil of fate?
Was it intent on pushing people like puppets into their destined roles no matter how many waves he made? He pushed the thought aside for now. Either he would have to watch carefully for this force, or decide to stop caring altogether and break the threads of fate entirely. A choice for another day.
In the meantime, the Great Hall buzzed with tension.
Dumbledore rose and in his calm yet authoritative tone, instructed the prefects, Head Boy, and Head Girl to keep every student accounted for inside the hall. "No one is to leave until the danger has passed," he said, his voice carrying across the tables. Albus then turned to the faculty and began assigning tasks. Professors Flitwick, Sinistra, Babbling, Snape, McGonagall and Corvus himself, were asked to search the castle. Their task was to sweep the dungeons, the corridors, and all possible approaches to the dungeons to locate the Troll. The rest of the staff would remain behind to keep order and defend the students should the troll somehow reach the hall.
Before leaving, Corvus fixed his gaze on Dumbledore. "Headmaster," he asked, his tone sharp but polite, "I was under the impression the wards are linked directly to your control. Do you not know exactly where the troll is?"
The effect was immediate. Dumbledore hesitated, glancing toward McGonagall and the other Heads of House. They all exchanged wary looks. They couldn't very well admit to him that the wards had been deliberately lowered, allowing Quirrell to smuggle the troll inside as part of the puzzle they were crafting beneath the trap door. Instead, Albus cleared his throat and offered a practiced lie: "The wards are undergoing inspection today, Professor Black. Their coverage is limited until the process is completed. Unfortunately, I cannot pinpoint the creature's location at present."
"I see," Corvus replied evenly, though the glint in his eyes said he did not believe a word of it. He would trust Dumbledore no further than he could throw him.. and truthfully, not even half that distance. Turning away from the Headmaster, he addressed the group, "I will begin my search on the first floor and move on. I suggest each of us take a different level so we may sweep the castle effectively for every possible way to the dungeons. If any of us encounter the troll, send a Patronus to alert the others. Any better suggestions?"
The professors nodded in grim approval, each choosing a sector of the castle before setting off. Corvus moved leisurely through the first floor corridors, his senses sharp, ears straining for any unexpected event. He knew after all where the heavy tread of something massive should be. From time to time, when no portraits or ghosts lingered nearby to spy on him, he unfurled his map to cross check the movements of the castle's inhabitants Especially Quirrell.
It did not take long before he reached the girls bathroom. At the end of a corridor stood the hulking shape of the mountain troll, its stench preceding it. And there, huddled near the doorway to the girl's lavatory, were three figures, the naive Potter, the idiotic Weasley, and the bushy haired Granger. Corvus' lips curled into the faintest of smiles, his wand already sliding smoothly into his hand. The cards shimmered faintly into existence around the creature' head. Strange abilities floating like labels above it. One caught his eye at once, Stench. Another, Moderate Magic Resistance. But it was the third that interested him most. Rapid Regeneration. That, Corvus thought, would be worth taking. His eyes gleamed as he replicated it and paused the absorption for a more private setting.
--
Corvus studied the troll carefully. The card labeled Moderate Magic Resistance intrigued him, but he doubted it would withstand the sheer potency of his own magical core. With a flick of his wand, several piercing curses lanced through the air. To his satisfaction and little surprise they tore through the troll's defenses with minimal resistance, slamming into its joints. Both knees and elbows burst in sprays of ichor, and the hulking beast collapsed. As a puppet with its strings cut.
Corvus did not finish it immediately. Instead, he watched. He wanted to see how quickly the creature's regeneration worked under such injuries. Fifteen seconds. That was how long it took before bone knitted, muscle reformed, and the troll staggered upright again. Corvus' lips curled into something between fascination and calculation. He tried again, layering darker hexes this time, bone shattering curses, bleeding and tendon severing hexes. The more sinister the spell, the longer the troll's body struggled to mend itself. He filed that detail away.
When satisfied with his experiment, he shifted his focus back to the trio huddled nearby. His voice, sharp and commanding, cut across their fearful silence. "Stand behind me and do not move. Do not speak unless I tell you to." Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger scrambled to obey, wide eyed and pale.
At last, Corvus raised his wand, whispered the incantation of the death sentence and a flash of green erupted. The troll crumpled lifelessly to the stone floor. Silence fell heavy in the corridor, broken only by the ragged breathing of the children. A raven of pure silver erupted from his wand, corporeal wings spanning wide before it took flight. The patronus, a majestic shadow of his first animagus form soared away, carrying his message to the Headmaster. The troll is dead.
It was Harry who found his voice first. "Professor, what was that spell? The green one?" His curiosity cut through his fear. Corvus turned to regard him, eyes steady.
"The Killing Curse, Mr. Potter," he said plainly. His tone was devoid of pride or shame. It was fact. Hermione gasped softly. Weasley's face twisted, caught between horror and outrage."
"That's one of the Unforgivable Curses!" Hermione burst out. "You.."
Corvus cut her off with a level gaze.
"And yet you are all still alive because I used it. Remember that." Then, with a faint curl of his lip, he addressed all three. "You are in far more trouble than you seem to realize. Potter, you left the Great Hall without permission, endangering yourself and others. Weasley, you followed him like a fool, as if bravery alone could defeat a troll. And you, Granger, your absence from the Hall tonight was already noted, despite knowing attendance was mandatory. And the first thing you all do after nearly dying is ask about the curse I used?" He shook his head. "At least Mr. Potter asked a proper question. Twenty five points to Gryffindor for that."
Before they could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed, and Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Pomfrey, and Snape arrived, wands drawn. They came upon Corvus mid rebuke, his voice calm and cutting.
"And now, the penalties. One hundred points from Potter and Weasley, each. For abandoning safety during a crisis without informing a single authority. Miss Granger, your punishment, I leave to your Head of House, since it was her oversight that left you weeping alone in a lavatory instead of sitting among your peers."
Weasley, red faced and trembling, seized his chance, trusting Headmaster and his head of house will back him. "He's a dark wizard!" he shouted, stabbing a finger at Corvus. "He used the Killing Curse! Send him to Azkaban!" Gasps rippled through the children and staff alike. Dumbledore's brows rose, McGonagall's lips thinned, and Snape's dark eyes glittered dangerously.
Corvus' reply was silk and steel. "Two hundred points from Gryffindor, for slander against a professor." Weasley gaped, then roared again, "It's an Unforgivable! He's a murderer! You have to.." His words choked off as another deduction fell like a hammer.
"And two hundred more for stupidity and misconduct." Corvus' voice was unyielding.
Weasley opened his mouth yet again but this time, a sharp "Petrificus Totalus!" snapped through the hall. The boy stiffened and toppled backward, frozen mid rant. McGonagall lowered her wand, nostrils flaring. "Enough, Mr. Weasley."
Corvus inclined his head to her, a hint of amusement tugging at his mouth. "A shame, Professor. I was curious to see how far he might have gone. His creativity in earning point deductions was almost.. impressive.
From the shadows, Snape let out a snort, quickly disguised as a cough.
--
Minerva's gaze snapped toward Snape after hearing his scoff, but she whirled back on Corvus with fury burning behind her eyes. "Professor Black," she said, voice clipped and trembling with restraint, "please stop deducting devastatingly large amounts of points from my house. You have single handedly destroyed what little chance Gryffindor had at the House Cup this year."
Corvus raised a single finger in the air, his tone cool and deliberate. "First, Professor, I do not take devastatingly large points. Your house simply lacks discipline and respect, both for themselves and for others. It is a shame you have allowed it to fester this long. Second, as far as I know, it has been five.." He turned his head toward Snape, who smoothly interjected, "Six."
Corvus inclined his head. "Six consecutive years Slytherin has won the House Cup. So your lions were never truly in the running to begin with. Not with such students.." he gestured pointedly at the petrified Weasley. "And third, " his voice sharpened."Fifty points from Gryffindor for your misconduct, Deputy Headmistress. I have read Hogwarts' rules for both students and faculty, in and out. Nowhere is a professor permitted to hex a student. Unless there are extreme conditions. Which, there was none here. Though, in this case, I cannot entirely blame you. The boy is the epitome of what is wrong with British wizarding society."
Minerva went crimson, her Scottish burr thickening as she snapped, "Albus! He will not continue deducting points from my house!"
Corvus and Snape both answered in unison: "Oh?" Snape's lips curled into a thin smile as he added silkily, "So rather than enforce discipline, you run to the Headmaster to protect your cubs? How very… Gryffindor of you."
Flitwick, who had been rocking on a conjured chair and watching the show excitingly, piped up in his high pitched voice. "I must agree with Professor Black, Minerva. Discipline has to be firm. It is among the first subjects my prefects teach to new eagles. They know that boundaries are there for a reason. Perhaps your lions would benefit from sharper claws applied against them, hm?"
Pomona Sprout, arms crossed, gave a reluctant nod. "I dislike the severity, but he is right. Respect is earned, Minerva, and your first years are trying the patience of half the staff already."
Minerva huffed, lips pressed thin, and with a sharp flick of her wand levitated the still petrified Weasley, ushering Potter and Granger along in her wake. The trio shuffled after her, the boy floating stiffly like a poorly strung marionette. Her robes billowed as she stormed from the hall.
Snape turned smoothly toward Albus. "Now that this crisis is over, Headmaster, I shall take my leave." He swept out, his robes snapping behind him. Sprout and Flitwick followed more politely. "And I must return to my eagles before they start theorizing about the troll incident without guidance. Good evening."
Dumbledore alone remained with Corvus, his expression carefully composed, though his twinkling eyes were noticeably dimmed. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we might… soften some of those deductions? Four hundred points is rather steep."
Corvus' answering smile was razor thin. "Headmaster, what is done is done. Discipline once undermined is discipline lost. If you wish to reinstate them, by all means, try. But it will reflect poorly on your sense of.. 'fairness'."
Albus fell silent, fingers steepled, the faintest crease forming at the corner of his mouth.
Corvus inclined his head politely, gathering his robes. "If that will be all, I have a rite to conduct. The students with signed permissions may join me at the edge of the Forest."
With that, he strode from the hall, leaving Dumbledore in contemplative quiet, the echo of the young Black's words still hanging like smoke over the staff table.