Chapter 145: Broken Friendship
At 4 o'clock, Quirrell was teaching on the third floor of Hogwarts Castle. Sitting in today's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was Draco Malfoy — the designated guest for the afternoon. At the same time, Alexander Smith observed the grotesque creature Quirrell had brought into the castle. Disgusted, Alexander momentarily held his breath.
The creature was as gray as granite, its massive form resembling a hunched boulder. Its head was small and bald, like a coconut, with oversized, floppy ears. Its limbs were uneven — long, thick arms like fallen trees and short, stumpy legs ending in wide, calloused feet.
Standing still, Alexander chanted quietly, his voice imbued with magical power. The words materialized into glowing runes that danced in the air before settling on the slumbering troll's thick hide.
"Okay, the villain's in place," Alexander thought, sealing the magical box with a gesture. "Now, time for the 'second female lead' — that arrogant golden retriever."
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In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Draco Malfoy sat at the back row with Crabbe and Goyle, arms crossed and scowling.
"This is intolerable," Draco muttered, covering his nose. "Quirrell smells worse than a troll's armpit. I'm going to tell my father."
But unlike before, Crabbe and Goyle didn't nod in agreement.
Their friendship had fractured a month earlier — ever since Draco had abandoned them during a demon attack involving Dudley Dursley. To make matters worse, Draco had recently started making friendly overtures to Harry Potter.
Harry was immensely talented, and to Crabbe and Goyle — his "childhood sidekicks" — it felt like betrayal. Draco didn't even use their real names affectionately anymore. He referred to them offhandedly, but called Potter by name — even with a grin.
Although they still hovered around him like stone-faced bodyguards, it was more out of obligation than friendship. Their families had longstanding ties to the Malfoys, and Draco's mother often sent them treats — an incentive they weren't willing to give up just yet.
Draco, noticing they hadn't abandoned him completely, glanced back — only to see them munching snacks in the middle of class. Quirrell's garlic breath mixed with the stink of his damp robes, wafting over the room like sour socks.
Draco wrinkled his nose. "Crabbe, what's with you? Saving your appetite for Halloween dinner?"
"My stomach…" Crabbe muttered, clutching his midsection.
A low, ominous growl escaped from his belly.
Goyle looked at his friend with concern and slowly set down his half-eaten Chocolate Frog.
For the rest of the lesson, Crabbe didn't reappear.
When class ended, Draco and Goyle descended to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. As they joined the flow of students, they overheard Seamus Finnigan whispering to Dean Thomas.
"That toilet's cursed — we had to hike to the seventh floor. Crabbe's been in there for an hour. You can hear it echoing down the corridor!"
"The moaning! I thought Myrtle was back!" Dean added.
Draco made a face. "Why doesn't Crabbe go back to the common room? So undignified."
"How can anyone keep food down with Quirrell's stench around?" Goyle shrugged.
But the moment they stepped into the Great Hall, they were dazzled by Halloween's splendor — floating jack-o'-lanterns, a thousand fluttering bats, and glimmering golden plates piled high with delicious food. The air was festive, and Crabbe's plight was instantly forgotten.
Malfoy was eating a meatball when a sudden disturbance snapped everyone's attention.
Professor Quirrell burst into the hall, scarf askew, face pale and twisted in terror. He staggered toward Dumbledore, leaned on the High Table, and gasped:
"Troll — in the dungeons! Thought you ought to know."
Then he collapsed.
Chaos erupted.
Professor Dumbledore had to conjure several bright bursts of light from his wand before the students calmed down.
"Prefects," Dumbledore commanded, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories — immediately."
Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were guided upstairs, while Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were directed down toward their respective common rooms.
"Why do we have to go underground?" Draco grumbled. "That's where the troll is! This is completely backwards."
"Crabbe!" Goyle exclaimed.
"Huh?" Malfoy blinked, still dazed.
"Crabbe — he's still in the bathroom. He doesn't know there's a troll loose!"
"I'll go get him!" Goyle declared suddenly.
Draco tried to object. "No, he's on the fifth floor — we're supposed to head down. It's dangerous! One troll's not worth—"
"Stop it, Draco — no, Malfoy," Goyle said, for the first time calling him by surname. "You left me and Crabbe behind once for that Dudley monster. And now you want to hide while Vincent's stuck upstairs?"
"I didn't mean—"
"What's my name?" Goyle interrupted.
"What?"
"You don't even know, do you? It's Gregory. Just like your name is Draco. Not 'Potter.' Not 'him.' You say Harry's name like he's your best friend, but we've been with you since we were toddlers!"
"I—Gregory, come on, that's not—" Draco stammered.
Goyle turned coldly. "Save it. I'm not waiting around this time."
Without another word, Gregory Goyle stepped out of the line and disappeared into the chaos.
Draco stood stunned. After a long pause, he followed — slipping away from the Slytherin group and heading up to the fifth floor.
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Elsewhere in the castle, Harry, Ron, and Alexander were navigating the crowds of retreating students.
"Look — that's Malfoy!" Harry pointed.
"He's going upstairs," Ron said, puzzled. "Shouldn't he be heading for the dungeon like the others?"
"Crabbe," Harry said simply.
"Crabbe? Oh, the other guy. He missed dinner. Probably stuck upstairs."
"And the troll's on the move. No teachers nearby. That thing's not just going to sit still," Harry added.
Ron hesitated, biting his lip.
"Ugh, fine," he groaned. "But if Prefect Corner sees us, we're dead. Anthony — if anyone asks where Harry is, say we went back to the tower."
The three boys ducked into the crowd, slipping against the flow of Hufflepuffs, heading toward danger rather than away.
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(End of Chapter 145)
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