[Note: Read up to Chapter - 122 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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"Aris, why were you even in the corridor?"
Hermione couldn't hold the question in any longer. Ever since they'd left the scene of the troll, it had been weighing on her mind.
Maybe—just maybe—she had hoped for something more. After all, every girl dreams, deep down, of a prince swooping in to save her.
But Aris? Aris was the definition of straightforward.
"Just passing by," he said casually, not even glancing her way.
He hadn't the faintest clue what she might've been thinking. Not because he was cold—but because it genuinely never occurred to him that she might be thinking that way.
"Oh," Hermione murmured, her voice falling slightly. Her shoulders dipped with quiet disappointment.
Aris said nothing more. His mind was firmly set on one thing—food. He hadn't eaten much all day, and after wrestling with a troll, the hunger was starting to gnaw at him.
Hermione followed beside him. She hadn't had dinner either, so the idea of sneaking into the kitchens wasn't unwelcome.
They walked side by side through the dim corridor, the silence only broken by the soft echo of their footsteps.
Before long, Hermione spoke up again.
"Aris, do you… know a lot about elemental magic?"
That seemed to catch his attention. The words elemental magic made him pause slightly. He turned to glance at her, then answered plainly.
"Not really. I only know three types of wind spells—those were the ones I just used."
He scratched his head thoughtfully. "Apart from that, I've only dabbled in a couple of basic pressure-type spells. Nothing too fancy."
Then, assuming she was interested in learning it, he added, "You don't need to worry about that stuff yet, though."
Truth was, no one else could use elemental magic—not yet. It wasn't something they taught at Hogwarts. Even Aris had only managed it with the help of the system… and Moss.
Aris's tone suddenly turned serious as he continued speaking to Hermione.
"The spell system's got its quirks. Take that troll back there, for example—its hide has strong resistance to magic. Most standard spells wouldn't do a thing to it. But…"
He paused for effect.
"Pure physical attacks don't give a toss about magic resistance. If you're decent with the Levitation Charm, taking down something that size isn't as impossible as it looks. You've started learning the Binding Spell by now, haven't you?"
Hermione gave a small nod.
"Well then, if you can keep your cool—bind the brute first, then levitate something heavy and keep aiming for the head—just like I did with the troll's club… You could've handled it. Really."
"I know…" Hermione mumbled, lowering her head, a note of disappointment in her voice.
"But that troll… it was terrifying. The moment I saw it, I just froze."
Aris glanced at her—such a small figure beside him, looking so downcast.
He sighed quietly. It wasn't fair to expect too much. After all, she was just an eleven-year-old witch.
Even though trolls weren't exactly clever or powerful by magical standards, their revolting appearance and sheer size were enough to rattle anyone. Even the professors might flinch at the sight of one barging down the corridor.
He reached out, almost without thinking, and gently ruffled her hair.
"It's alright," he said softly. "Next time something like that happens, you'll do better. I know you will."
Hermione, still staring at the floor, suddenly went stiff. Her face turned bright red. Her arms flailed slightly as she stumbled over her own feet, walking like her limbs had forgotten how to function.
Her head felt like it was about to burst into flames. Her thoughts? Gone. Absolutely wiped clean.
Aris… had touched her hair.
No one—no one—had ever touched her hair before… except her parents!
She'd read somewhere that people only did that with those they were closest to!
A thousand thoughts raced through Hermione's mind, colliding with each other until her brain felt like it short-circuited.
Right now, she wasn't sure what she was feeling. Flustered? Definitely. Embarrassed? Absolutely.
But mixed in with all that… was a strange warmth in her chest.
A small, flickering sense of joy.
It was… oddly nice.
Only…
Aris, meanwhile, had also begun to feel something was a bit off. He glanced sideways at the little witch, still walking stiffly beside him.
Wait a minute—what was that about?
Then it hit him.
Oh. Right. He'd touched her hair.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
It was just a habit—an automatic gesture.
Bloody Luna's fault, really. He'd picked it up from her back then, and it just sort of stuck.
The two continued walking in that awkward silence, a strange air hanging between them, until they reached the kitchen door.
The warm aroma of roasted meats and baked puddings drifted into the corridor, and Aris's focus instantly shifted.
Just as he reached for the handle, Hermione finally snapped out of her daze.
Her cheeks were still tinged pink, which only made her look more adorable—but her voice had returned to normal.
"Erm… are we really just going to leave the troll like that?" she asked, still clearly uneasy. "Shouldn't we have told a professor or something?"
From her point of view, walking away from the scene without saying a word felt downright irresponsible.
"It's fine," Aris replied casually, already half in the kitchen. "Someone'll sort it out."
"Besides, even if we did say anything—who'd believe it?"
He turned and shot her a half-smile. "Two first-years taking down a full-sized troll? Sounds like something out of a bad bedtime story."
Hermione couldn't help but puff out her cheeks slightly. "Well… when you put it like that…"
But then she glanced at him again, her expression softening.
"…But if it's you, maybe someone would believe it."
After everything she'd seen him do—the power he'd shown, the strange and brilliant things he seemed to know—it really wasn't that far-fetched.
At this point, Hermione was convinced—utterly convinced—that no one in the entire school could doubt Aris's abilities anymore.
Even some of the older students probably weren't as skilled as him.
The little witch made up her mind then and there, without a shred of doubt.
"Evening, Tizzy!"
By now, Aris had spotted the house-elf bustling about in the kitchen.
"Good evening to you, Mr Shafiq!" Tizzy replied brightly, bowing in a surprisingly gentlemanly manner for someone his size.
"Sorry to trouble you again," Aris said with a grin. "I'm absolutely starving!"
"Always a pleasure, sir!" Tizzy beamed, then turned to Hermione.
"And this lovely young lady—would you care for some snacks as well?"
"Thank you," Hermione replied with a shy smile.
Moments later, a large platter of mouth-watering food was set before them—piled high with roasted chicken, baked potatoes, pastries, and more.
The sight alone made their eyes sparkle.
At that point, the troll felt like a distant memory.
A new battle had begun—a feast for survival!
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The Next Morning
Soft sunlight streamed in through the tall windows of the Great Hall, casting a golden glow on the breakfast spread.
Students were already gathered around the long house tables, chatting excitedly over toast, eggs, and pumpkin juice.
But as much as the food tempted them, it was clear something else had captured their attention.
"Did you hear? That troll from last night—Potter and Weasley took it down!"
"I heard that too! Everyone's talking about it!"
"I still can't believe it," someone whispered. "It's even crazier than that rumour about Shafiq making Professor McGonagall cry!"
"She cried? Nah, I heard she just turned a desk into a hedgehog!"
"Oi, never mind that—we're talking about Potter defeating a troll!"
"Well, I don't buy it," said another student, crossing their arms. "If it were that genius Shafiq… maybe there's a chance. But Potter? Nah, not likely."
As more students joined in, the Great Hall quickly filled with gossip and speculation. Clusters of whispering students popped up all over the place.
The rumour mill was running at full tilt.
Even when the professors entered the Great Hall, the students showed no sign of dropping the topic. If anything, the buzz grew louder.
And it wasn't just the younger years gossiping—there was quite a stir at the staff table as well.
"Professor Quirrell," said Flitwick, sidling up with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Is it true? Did young Potter really defeat the troll?"
Quirrell looked a bit startled by Flitwick's sudden approach. He blinked, then patted his chest nervously and replied, "W-Well… it seems… it seems so."
"When we arrived, Potter and Weasley were already there. The troll was on the floor—unconscious—at their feet."
"So… it would seem obvious, wouldn't it?"
But even as he spoke, Quirrell's tone remained shaky. His eyes darted away, and his body language was stiff.
Understandably so.
After all, he was the one who'd lured the creature into the castle in the first place. The fact that it had been taken out—accidentally no less—by two first-years was nothing short of infuriating.
He'd barely had time to gather information after his staged fainting episode… and now this.
And to top it off, whispers about Potter's "heroic moment" were spreading like wildfire.
Professor Flitwick didn't seem to notice Quirrell's unease. "You really believe two first-years could take down a fully grown troll?"
"Well… it is rather unbelievable," Quirrell muttered, clearly distracted.
"I suppose someone else must've done it, then," Flitwick mused aloud, half to himself, before returning to his seat with a thoughtful frown. "Yes… someone with a bit more skill."
Quirrell stared after him, face twitching slightly.
His already forced expression grew even more strained.
Meanwhile, over at the Ravenclaw table, Aris sat quietly, calmly eating his breakfast.
Naturally, he heard all the chatter—about the troll, about Potter, about supposed heroics.
But he remained composed, unfazed by any of it.
As if the entire thing had nothing to do with him at all.
Truthfully, Aris had no desire for anyone to find out what really happened the night before.
Because if the professors got wind of the full story, they'd definitely start poking around. And with someone like Dumbledore—sharp as a tack and always five steps ahead—it'd be nearly impossible to keep all the details under wraps.
There'd be holes in the story, and the old fox would sniff them out in no time.
And then? Trouble.
"Morning, Aris!"
Hermione arrived at the Great Hall, taking the seat opposite him. Her expression was... peculiar. A mix of tiredness and something else.
"Morning," Aris replied with a smile. "Slept well?"
"Obviously not," Hermione said dryly, motioning to the shadows under her eyes.
"I kept dreaming about that great big—erm—thing from last night," she said, glancing around quickly at the nearby students, many of whom were still chattering about the troll. She corrected herself swiftly. "Had loads of nightmares. It was awful, honestly."
"If you ever fancy catching up on sleep, I do know a charm that helps people drift off peacefully," Aris offered with a grin.
Hermione shot him a mildly resentful look.
"Fat lot of good that does me now. We've got Transfiguration next—I can't be late, and I'm certainly not skipping."
Only now did she truly realise just how enviable Aris's situation was—being able to skive off classes now and again without getting in trouble. If she had that sort of leeway, she'd have curled up for a nap without a second thought.
"Hermione!"
Harry and Ron came rushing over, looking slightly out of breath. Concern was still etched on their faces, but when they saw her sitting there safe and sound, they both let out a sigh of relief.
"Where'd you vanish off to yesterday?" Ron asked, frowning.
"Oh, you know…" Hermione said with an obviously forced smile. "Just off being the legendary heroine who defeated the troll."
Then, lowering her voice, she muttered under her breath, "None of your business."
Of course, Hermione had heard the chatter from the other students.
But never—not in a million years—did she imagine that Harry and Ron would take credit for defeating the troll.
This wasn't just about showing off. It was about integrity.
And for that reason alone, she wasn't about to give them a warm welcome.
"Hermione, I think you've got the wrong idea," Harry said quickly, clearly sensing something was off.
"Yesterday, Seamus told us you'd gone to the girls' loo, so we got worried and went looking for you…"
He rubbed the back of his head, frustrated. "But just as we got there, we saw the troll already knocked out cold on the floor."
"We tried explaining it to the professors, but they wouldn't listen! Now everyone's saying Ron and I were the ones who took it down—but that's not true at all. Honestly, we're just as annoyed about it."
He looked at her, hopeful. "That's why we came to find you—just to ask if you knew what really happened."
"If you were in the bathroom, you must've seen who actually dealt with the troll, right?"
"How should I know?" Hermione huffed, arms crossed—but her tone had softened.
She'd assumed Harry and Ron were enjoying the praise for something they hadn't done.
But hearing it was all just a misunderstanding, her anger melted away. In fact, knowing they'd rushed in just to look for her made her feel a little guilty for snapping at them.
She paused, then glanced briefly at Aris before replying.
"I left before the troll got to the loo," she said smoothly. "Aris was with me the whole time—he can vouch for that."
"Yes, we went to the kitchens together," Aris nodded firmly.
It was the story he and Hermione had agreed on the night before—no matter who asked, the truth would remain between them. Aris had worked hard to get Miss Granger, ever the rule-follower, to agree.
Now, watching her stick to their plan, he felt reassured. The little witch could definitely be trusted.
"That's… odd," Harry muttered, brows knitting together.
He looked from Hermione to Aris and back again, clearly baffled.
"We thought it was Hermione who took down the troll. But if it wasn't her… then who was it?"
"Yeah, it's weird," Ron added, scratching his head. "The professors couldn't have done it—otherwise they wouldn't have assumed we were the ones who dealt with it."
Then both boys turned to Aris.
"Aris, you're smart—can't you figure it out?" Harry asked earnestly.
"Yeah, yeah! You solved that thing about the fourth-floor corridor before. If anyone can crack this, it's you!" Ron chimed in, staring at him with complete faith—as if the moment Aris put his mind to something, the answer would simply appear.
Aris paused, frowning slightly. "…Well—"
He was clearly stalling.
Hermione, meanwhile, was fighting to keep a straight face. Her lips twitched, and her cheeks were beginning to flush pink from the effort of not bursting into laughter.
Watching him being asked to analyse something he actually did himself—while pretending he didn't—was absolutely brilliant.
She could hardly contain her amusement.
And to her own surprise, she was actually starting to look forward to how Aris was going to wriggle his way out of this one.
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 122 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]