[Note: Read up to Chapter - 121 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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Halloween Dinner, Great Hall
The sky above the Great Hall was filled with floating devil-shaped pumpkins, replacing the usual hovering candles. To make Halloween feel extra festive, the enchanted ceiling no longer showed a peaceful starry night but instead flashed with lightning and rumbled with thunder.
The whole castle buzzed with a strange mix of excitement and tension, though the young witches and wizards beamed with cheerful grins.
The long house tables were already stacked high with delicious food. Laughter and chatter filled the hall as the students tucked into their lavish Halloween feast.
Harry and Ron were sat at the Gryffindor table, digging in with great enthusiasm.
But after a while, Harry noticed something wasn't quite right.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked, glancing down the table. He hadn't spotted the bossy little witch anywhere, which was unusual for her.
Ron, across from him, was too busy stuffing his face with doughnuts to respond.
It was Seamus Finnigan who chimed in instead. "Ain't seen her much since the practical this afternoon. Katie reckons she's in a bit of a mood. Spent the whole afternoon in the girls' loo—someone said they could hear her crying in there..."
"She's crying? In the bathroom?" Harry looked genuinely surprised.
Then he turned to Ron again. "This got anything to do with what you said about her earlier?"
"I didn't think she'd hear it!" Ron muttered, frowning. "But she's got a bit of an attitude, hasn't she? Always acting like she knows better than everyone."
"Well… she is rather brilliant though, isn't she…" Harry sighed.
Even though things were unfolding a little differently, the same moment from the book had finally arrived.
That afternoon, during their practical class, the row between Ron and Hermione had finally kicked off.
The trouble had started earlier that day. During their practical lesson, Ronald and Hermione had been paired up to practise the Levitation Charm on one of the devilish pumpkin lanterns.
But the moment Hermione caught sight of Ron fumbling with his wand, she couldn't help herself. The little witch gave him a rather stern—and admittedly pompous—bit of guidance.
Ron hadn't taken it well.
"She proper got on my nerves," he'd grumbled to Harry afterwards. "Acting like I'm completely hopeless."
"She probably didn't mean anything by it," Harry had tried to reason.
"I know, but still... I can't stand it sometimes," Ron muttered, clearly torn between annoyance and regret.
Just then, the doors to the Great Hall burst open with a loud clang that echoed off the stone walls, instantly drawing everyone's attention.
A figure stumbled in—Professor Quirrell, pale as a ghost and wide-eyed with terror.
"T-Troll! There's a troll in the dungeons!" he gasped, staggering toward the staff table. "Thought you ought to know…"
And with that, he shut his eyes and collapsed flat on the floor.
If Aris had been there, he'd no doubt have taken the mickey out of Quirrell's performance. The entrance was dramatic enough to rival a West End show, but the fainting bit? That was laying it on a bit thick.
Still, a professor keeling over in front of everyone made quite the impression. The entire hall erupted in chaos.
Screams filled the air.
"Aaahhh!!"
"There's a troll!!"
"A troll?! In the castle?!"
"Leg it!!"
The panic spread like wildfire. Dozens of young witches and wizards jumped from their seats, scrambling for the exits.
At that precise moment, Dumbledore rose from the teachers' table, his expression sharp, commanding silence.
"Silence!"
Dumbledore's booming voice rang through the hall like a thunderclap, instantly silencing the young witches and wizards mid-panic.
Without missing a beat, he began issuing instructions. Calm and clear, he organised the evacuation, directing the prefects to lead their housemates out in an orderly fashion.
Once everything was in motion, he strode purposefully toward the dungeons, a few members of staff following behind.
Meanwhile, among the throng of evacuating students, Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"Ron, we've got to find Hermione. She doesn't know about the troll!"
"Right—and Aris! I don't reckon I saw him in the Hall either."
"Let's find Hermione first," Harry said firmly. "Aris is way tougher than we are, and we wouldn't even know where to look for him."
Without another word, the two slipped away from the Gryffindor evacuation group and darted down a side corridor, heading towards the dungeons.
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Elsewhere in the castle...
On the eighth floor, in front of the Room of Requirement, Aris was just finishing up a long day in the lab. His stomach rumbled.
"I'm starving..." he muttered, casting an illusion spell over himself by force of habit before stepping out into the corridor in search of food.
To his surprise, the castle was oddly quiet.
"Bit off, this," he said aloud, frowning. "Where is everyone?"
Then he slapped his forehead.
"Bloody hell—it's Halloween! They must all be at the feast."
With a smirk and a slightly quickened step, he made his way down the corridor, already dreaming of roast meats, treacle tart, and pumpkin juice.
Before long, he'd reached the first floor. Ahead of him was the stairway leading down to the dungeons. The Great Hall lay to the right, a few corners down.
But just as he was about to turn, a strange feeling prickled at the back of his neck.
A heavy thump... thump... thump echoed from ahead—slow, lumbering footsteps reverberating through the stone corridor.
Aris froze. A strange chill ran down his spine.
Something wasn't right.
Boom, boom, boom—!!
The heavy footsteps grew louder and heavier, thudding rhythmically through the stone corridors. They were coming from the direction of the dungeons.
Aris squinted into the dim light ahead. A massive shadow loomed on the wall—hulking, misshapen, and unmistakably monstrous.
It was getting closer. Whatever it was, it was just around the corner.
"Ahh—!!"
A piercing scream rang out from the door of the girls' loo just ahead.
Aris snapped to attention.
"Bloody hell—it's the troll! I'd completely forgotten!"
He dashed forward, and in a flash, blue energy surged from his body. A gust of power wrapped around him like a cloak, hurling him forward with blistering speed.
Elemental Magic: Wind – Wind Blessing.
Empowered by the wind element, Aris shot through the corridor like a gust of storm-driven air and arrived at the doorway of the girls' bathroom.
Hermione stood frozen in fear.
The towering mountain of a troll had already raised its massive wooden club, preparing to bring it crashing down upon her.
"Aris!!!" Hermione cried, turning as if to flee—but the moment she saw him, her feet rooted to the spot.
"Wind Binding!" Aris shouted, drawing his wand without hesitation.
A violent gust exploded from him, the very air twisting and roaring. Threads of compressed wind wrapped around the troll like invisible chains, halting its movement mid-swing.
Then, stepping back, Aris placed himself protectively in front of Hermione.
"Aris, what are you—"
The young witch was still trembling, but her fear ebbed as she saw the boy standing firm.
"Don't worry—I've got this!" Aris cut in, not looking back. "We'll talk later!"
There was no time to explain.
He raised his wand again, and this time a tremendous surge of magic burst forth. A glowing ball of blue light began forming at its tip—swirling rapidly into a powerful vortex.
With a flick of his wrist, Aris launched it toward the immobilised troll.
"Enhanced Version: Wind Vortex!"
A fierce whirlwind erupted from Aris's wand, tearing through the troll with brutal force. The raging current didn't just lash at the creature—it completely swallowed it up and hurled it backwards into the castle's thick stone wall.
WHAM!
With a thunderous crash, the troll slammed into the wall and collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious before it could even grasp what had happened.
Hermione stood there, rooted to the spot, utterly gobsmacked.
"T-That was… Elemental Magic…" she whispered, eyes wide as she stared at the unconscious brute, then slowly turned to Aris.
Her mind was in complete disarray. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest. She didn't know what to say.
Aris gave a casual shrug and grinned. "Well, it's a slightly improved version. Thought I'd give it a proper go."
Then, after a moment's thought, he flicked his wand again.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The troll's discarded club rose into the air and hovered for a moment—then, under Aris's direction, it came crashing down onto the troll's skull.
"In a place like this, where we can't exactly start blowing up walls, this spell's actually spot-on for handling a troll," Aris explained, as if giving a lesson in class. "And it's not a difficult charm, is it? You should be able to manage it easily."
There was not a trace of panic in his voice—only calm, measured instruction, as though he were teaching a friend, not standing over a knocked-out monster.
The club floated back up… then fell again. And again. Each strike landed squarely on the troll's head.
The troll's limbs gave a few involuntary jerks with every blow.
Hermione could only watch, utterly stunned. A part of her even felt a flicker of pity for the poor beast.
Poor thing never stood a chance...
After a few moments, Aris finally stopped. He glanced down the corridor towards the Great Hall, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.
"Right then—we'd best be off," he said calmly.
The sound of distant footsteps was drawing nearer. The others would be here any minute.
And Aris? He had no interest in explaining himself—or being the centre of attention.
Legging it seemed like the smartest move right now.
Otherwise, the professors would've caught me again and started asking all sorts of questions.
Thinking quickly, Aris grabbed Hermione's hand. A soft blue light shimmered around them as the power of the wind element surged once more.
In an instant, the breeze swept them away down the corridor, vanishing just before anyone else arrived.
Moments later, two familiar figures hurried into the now eerily quiet corridor.
Harry and Ron had come running from the Great Hall, panic written all over their faces. They'd both heard the loud crash earlier and feared the worst.
But, short legs being what they were, they hadn't exactly broken any speed records.
When they arrived at the scene, Aris and Hermione were already gone.
All that remained was the unconscious troll, lying sprawled across the floor outside the girls' bathroom.
"What the bloody hell happened here?!" Ron gasped, eyes wide as he took in the sight.
"The bathroom door's been blown to bits… must've been the troll," Harry muttered, quickly examining the area.
He crouched near the troll, then turned his attention to the shattered remains of the toilet door. Bits of splintered wood lay scattered across the floor, clear signs that something wild had gone down.
In truth, the door had been accidentally blasted by Aris's wind vortex—but that wasn't obvious to them.
"But who took the troll down?" Ron asked, frowning now. "No way it knocked itself out like that... someone had to be here!"
"I'm more worried about Hermione," Harry said, turning to Ron with growing urgency. "Where is she?"
"Maybe… maybe she left," Ron replied, his voice low, guilt creeping into his tone.
His expression grew troubled.
If anything had happened to her—if that troll had hurt her—he'd never be able to live with himself. After all, it was his stupid comment that had upset her in the first place.
And that's why she'd ended up in the loo alone.
Just then, a voice echoed down the corridor.
"Potter? Weasley?"
Just as the two boys stood there, unsure of what to do next or whether they ought to leave…
A sharp voice rang out behind them.
They turned, startled, just as Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell came striding down the corridor, robes billowing.
"Oh my word—you two better have a good explanation for this!" Professor McGonagall cried, her voice going slightly shrill as she stared wide-eyed at Harry.
Harry and Ron stood frozen, still trying to make sense of the scene themselves.
"We only just got here, Professor!" Harry said quickly, taking a step back out of instinct. With three professors glaring at him, he couldn't help feeling like he'd done something wrong—even if he hadn't.
Ron was worse off. He swallowed hard, eyes darting nervously toward Snape's cold, disapproving face. Then he pointed at the unconscious troll and blurted, "It was already down when we arrived! I swear, maybe another professor got here before us and took it out!"
Professor McGonagall wasn't buying it. Her gaze flicked between the two boys, eyes narrowed—not in anger, but concern.
"What I want to know is why the two of you are here," she demanded, voice tight.
"You should be in the Gryffindor common room right now!" she added, her tone growing sharper now that she'd checked the boys weren't injured. "Dumbledore gave explicit orders—prefects were to escort all students back!"
"And do you really think a pair of first-years could handle a mountain troll on their own?!"
Ron opened his mouth, trying to find the words, but Harry quickly tugged on his sleeve, stepped forward, and lowered his head.
"Sorry, Professor," he said honestly. "We know we broke the rules."
"But we were just trying to find Hermione. She wasn't in the Hall, and someone said she'd gone to the girls' loo near the dungeons. We were worried—really worried—that the troll might've gotten to her."
Harry's mind was still clear despite the tension, and he didn't hesitate to own up to their actions.
He and Ron quickly explained why they were there, though whether the professors actually believed them was another matter entirely.
"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall echoed, her stern expression faltering slightly.
Apparently, Harry's confession had done the trick. She looked around the corridor, then stepped into the girls' loo to check for herself.
Finding it empty, she let out a small sigh of relief.
"Even so," she said, turning back to the boys, "that doesn't mean you had any right to go wandering off!"
"You've no idea how lucky you are. Most first-years wouldn't stand a chance against a mountain troll. You could've been killed!"
"We're really sorry, Professor," Harry said again, and Ron echoed him with a hasty nod.
Even Ron, thick as he could be sometimes, had figured it out by now—the professors weren't out for blood. They just wanted them to understand the danger.
This wasn't the time to argue or act clever. Best thing was to stay quiet and take the telling-off.
Then came something no one expected.
"Five points," McGonagall said suddenly.
"…What?" Harry blinked.
"Five points—each," she repeated, casting a quick glance at the unconscious troll.
"For sheer dumb luck… and possibly a bit of bravery."
Ron's jaw dropped. Harry looked equally gobsmacked.
Snape and Quirrell stood beside her, both silent for once. Even Snape, usually so quick to sneer, seemed too surprised to speak.
It was clear from their expressions—they all assumed Harry and Ron had taken down the troll.
There was no one else at the scene. And it didn't make sense for another professor to have arrived before them. By all accounts, the boys must've done it.
"Thank you, Professor!" they chorused, still stunned.
Neither of them dared correct her.
What if they told the truth now and got another earful about disobeying orders? No, better to keep their mouths shut.
They exchanged a glance.
Confusion flickered in both their eyes.
If the professors didn't defeat the troll… and it wasn't them… then who did?
Could it have been... Hermione?
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 121 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]