The secondary staircase was dimly lit, the stone steps worn smooth by centuries of house-elf feet. Professor Flitwick moved with surprising speed for a man of his stature, his wand tip glowing to light the way. Orion followed close behind, his senses dialed up to eleven.
As they neared the first-floor landing, the air changed. The festive smell of pumpkin and cinnamon from the distant Great Hall was nowhere to be found, all that was present was a stench that hit Orion like a physical blow—a mixture of old socks, unwashed bodies, and raw sewage.
Orion stopped dead.
"Professor," Orion hissed, grabbing the railing. "Do you hear that?"
Flitwick paused, cocking his head. "Hear what, Mr. Malfoy?"
THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.
Heavy, dragging footsteps reverberated through the stone floor, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"That," Orion whispered. "And... that smell."
Before Flitwick could identify the odor, a high-pitched, terrifying scream tore through the corridor. It was unmistakably Hermione Granger.
"Miss Granger!" Flitwick gasped, his demeanor shifting instantly from kindly teacher to Dueling Champion. "Stay here, Mr. Malfoy! Do not move!"
Flitwick bolted down the remaining stairs, his short legs carrying him with blurring speed.
"Stay here," Orion muttered to himself, already drawing his Hawthorn wand. "Right. Because that's definitely going to happen."
He sprinted after the Professor.
They burst into the corridor just in time to see a nightmare squeezing itself through the door of the girls' bathroom. The Troll was twelve feet of granite-grey skin and lumpy muscle, dragging a wooden club that looked like a small tree trunk. It slouched into the room, blotting out the light.
"Help!" Hermione's voice echoed from inside, shrill with terror.
Flitwick didn't hesitate. He charged into the bathroom. Orion skidded to a halt at the doorway, peering inside.
Hermione was backed against the wall under the sinks, paralyzed with fear. The Troll was raising its club, ready to smash the stalls to splinters.
"Oi! Down here!" Flitwick shouted, his voice magically amplified to a boom.
The Troll turned slowly, blinking its small, stupid eyes at the tiny wizard.
"Stupefy! Depulso! Impedimenta!"
Flitwick's wand was a blur. A jet of red light hit the Troll in the chest, making it stagger. A banishing charm hit its knee, buckling the leg. A hex slowed its arm. The Troll roared in confusion, flailing but unable to crush the agile Professor who was darting around its legs like a hummingbird.
"I have this under control!" Flitwick shouted, preparing a binding curse. "Miss Granger, run!"
It was a textbook takedown. Flitwick had the situation handled.
Until the plot arrived.
"Hermione!"
"Get out of there!"
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley burst into the bathroom, shouting at the top of their lungs. They had clearly run all the way from the hall and had zero situational awareness.
The sudden noise from the doorway broke the Troll's focus on Flitwick. It turned its massive head toward the boys. As it turned, its club swung wildly in a low arc.
Flitwick, momentarily distracted by the arrival of two students in the line of fire, looked toward the door. "Mr. Potter! Get b—"
WHAM.
The club didn't hit Flitwick directly—his reflexes were too good for that. He cast a Protego shield instantly. But the sheer kinetic force of a Mountain Troll is not easily negated. The club smashed into the magical barrier, sending Flitwick flying backward. He slammed into the stone wall beneath a shattered mirror, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He slumped, dazed, pinned between a pile of debris and the wall.
The Troll, emboldened by the small man's defeat, raised its club high, roaring at the new intruders. Harry and Ron froze, wands uselessly in their hands.
Orion cursed under his breath. "Gryffindors. Every time. Well this gives me the opportunity for my plan."
Orion knew he had gambled with the choice of bringing Flitwick here, since he could have taken down the troll and negated Orion's chance of getting an achievement. But he had also calculated the probability of the chosen one fudging things up at the correct time. Thank you Potter's naive nature. He stepped into the doorway, pushing a frozen Harry and Ron towards a side away from the doorway.
"Hey! Ugly!" Orion shouted.
He raised his wand. He used the spell he had practiced for weeks.
"Verdimillious! Periculum!"
BANG! CRACK! WHIZZ!
A violent explosion of green and red sparks erupted directly in the Troll's face. It was like a firework going off in a phone booth. The Troll shrieked, blinded and confused, pawing at its eyes.
"Over here!" Orion yelled, backing into the corridor. "Come and get me, you walking landslide!"
The Troll, enraged by the lights and the noise, ignored the cowering girl in the bathroom as well as the two boys who were standing aside. It turned its piggy eyes toward the boy in the doorway. It let out a roar that shook the plumbing and charged.
"Orion!" Harry shouted.
"Stay there!" Orion commanded without looking back. "And help Flitwick!"
Orion sprinted down the corridor.
THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.
The Troll was fast for something so big. Its club smashed a suit of armor as it exited the bathroom, sending metal flying.
"Run, Forrest, Run!" Sparkle screamed in his ear. "It's gaining on you!"
"I know!" Orion panted.
He reached into his mind. Inventory.
A glass vial materialized in his left hand. The Unguent of Decay.
He popped the cork with his thumb.
The smell was instantaneous and horrific. It smelled like a corpse had vomited on a skunk. Orion gagged, tears springing to his eyes even with his mental preparation, but he held the vial out behind him as he ran.
"Come on!" Orion wheezed. "Smell that? It's your favorite! Eau de Sewer!"
The Troll sniffed. It slowed down for a second, a look of confused delight crossing its ugly face. It smelled home. It smelled comfort. It smelled delicious.
It roared again, this time with hunger, and picked up the pace.
Orion led it up the marble staircase, distracting it here and there with more fireworks. He banked hard to the right, heading for the third-floor corridor.
"Spongify!" Orion cast over his shoulder, hitting the floor behind him.
The Troll stepped on the softened stone. Its foot sank. It stumbled, flailing its arms and smashing a portrait of a pastoral scene, but it didn't fall completely. It pulled its foot free and kept coming.
"Stubborn," Orion gritted his teeth. "Lumos Solem!"
He spun, unleashing a blast of sunlight. The Troll shielded its eyes, roaring in pain, but the scent of the potion was driving it forward. It was a biologically imperative lure.
Orion reached the Third Floor. His lungs were burning.
He sprinted down the Forbidden Corridor. At the end of the hall, the wooden door stood slightly ajar.
"Door is open!" Sparkle confirmed. "Quirrell is in there!"
"Perfect," Orion gasped.
He reached the door. He didn't stop. He wound up his arm and hurled the open vial of foul potion through the crack in the door, right at the floor just inside the room.
Crash. The glass shattered.
Orion grabbed a pillar and swung himself behind it, pressing his back against the cold stone, chest heaving.
The Troll thundered down the hall. It sniffed the air violently. The trail led into the room. The smell of decay was overpowering inside now.
The Troll didn't even pause. It kicked the door fully open and lumbered inside, grunting in anticipation of a meal.
Orion moved.
He lunged from behind the pillar. He grabbed the handle of the heavy wooden door and slammed it shut with all his strength.
"Colloportus!"
The magical lock sealed with a squelching sound.
For a second, there was silence.
Then, from inside the room, a sound erupted that made the Troll's roar seem like a kitten's meow.
GRRRRRRAAAAAAAWR!
It was a triple-harmonic roar of pure, waking fury. Fluffy definately did not like intruders who smelled like rotten meat.
CRASH! BOOM!
The door shook as something massive was thrown against the wall inside. The Troll squealed—a high, terrified sound—followed by the distinct sound of snapping wood and snarling dogs.
"Let them fight," Orion whispered, a smirk cutting through his exhaustion.
He pushed off the door and turned to run back toward the stairs. He needed to be "fleeing in terror" when the teachers arrived.
He rounded the corner of the corridor—
And ran straight into a wall of black robes.
Orion bounced off, stumbling back.
Professor Severus Snape stood there. He looked livid. His wand was drawn. Far behind him, a disheveled and slightly limping Professor Flitwick was hurrying to catch up.
Snape looked at Orion. He looked at the sealed door where the sounds of a titanic struggle were still audible. He sniffed the air, which still held a faint trace of the potion.
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, his voice dangerously soft. "Explain."
"Professor!" Orion gasped, playing up his breathlessness. "The Troll! It chased me! I ran... I tried to lose it... I threw a stink pellet into that room to distract it... and I locked it in!"
Flitwick hobbled up, clutching his side. "Orion! You foolish, brave boy! I told you to stay put!"
"I couldn't leave you, Professor," Orion said, looking at the small master with wide, innocent eyes. "Potter and Weasley distracted you... the Troll was going to crush them. I had to draw it away."
Snape's eyes narrowed. He looked at the door again.
THUD. Something heavy hit the floor inside. Silence fell.
"You led a Mountain Troll," Snape hissed, "across two floors, and locked it in a room... on the Third Floor?"
"It was the only room with a strong door and a protector I could find, Professor Dumbledore told me it had spells on it," Orion lied. "Is... is the Troll dead?"
"I suspect," Snape said, glancing at the door with a knowing look, "that the Troll is the least of our worries. The Headmaster will be... most interested in this."
He grabbed Orion's shoulder. Not roughly, but firmly.
"Come with me. Now."
Orion nodded, allowing himself to be led away.
Behind them, inside the room, a satisfied three-headed crunching sound could be heard.
"Tier 3 Achievement Unlocked," Sparkle whispered. "Fluffy: King of the Monsters."
Orion kept his head down, hiding his grin. Halloween was a success.