On Halloween night, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry held a grand celebration.
Inside the Great Hall, dozens of jack-o'-lanterns in various shapes and sizes floated gently through the air, casting a warm and mysterious glow.
The Weasley twins had gone all out, dressing up as vampires. Their realistic fangs and eerie costumes made them look truly terrifying, which they used to spook their classmates to great effect.
Laughter and shrieks filled the hall, creating a vibrant and festive atmosphere.
The professors sat together, happily chatting and enjoying themselves.
Only Professor Snape, though present, looked entirely disengaged—his face was dark and brooding, a complete contrast to the joyous surroundings.
"Youth is a wonderful thing," Professor McGonagall said, her tone soft as she looked fondly at the lively students. A trace of melancholy crossed her face.
"I used to quietly wonder what my life might have been like… if I'd had a child of my own."
"You would have been an incredible mother," Wes said sincerely.
"Oh, please," McGonagall waved her hand, her face filled with amused resignation.
"Children don't like me. Those mischievous little imps probably run for cover the moment they see me coming."
"Children nowadays don't understand that strictness is just another form of deep love. But once they've stepped into the real world, after they've weathered some storms, they'll be grateful for everything you taught them."
Half of what Wes said came from genuine admiration—the other half, admittedly, was a bit of polite flattery.
"When did you become so smooth with your words?" McGonagall chuckled, her lips curling into a teasing smile.
"I can only imagine how many poor girls have fallen for that silver tongue of yours."
Wes merely shrugged lightly, his face calm and unbothered.
"You're kidding!" McGonagall gasped dramatically, covering her mouth in shock.
"Wes, don't tell me you've never been in a relationship."
At Hogwarts, most young witches and wizards experienced their first taste of love around fifteen or sixteen.
For someone like Wes to have never been in a relationship—well, it was almost as rare as spotting a unicorn.
A few professors even gave him sympathetic glances.
"Don't pity me," Wes said nonchalantly, expertly slicing a small piece of steak.
"The magical world is vast. I intend to spend my life exploring and pursuing its secrets."
Professor Pomona Sprout was so touched by his words, she actually teared up.
"Poor Wes… never having known the sweetness of love…" she whispered with a choked voice.
Then Dumbledore suddenly chimed in with a mischievous smile:
"Should we ask Severus to whip up a little love potion for you?"
"Silence, Albus!" McGonagall barked, instantly reverting to her stern demeanor.
"Don't you dare make such ridiculous suggestions!"
Wes put down his knife and fork and sighed gently.
"Headmaster, I'm quite capable of brewing potions myself. I may not match Professor Snape's mastery, but I know very well that love potions are illegal."
"Are they now?" Dumbledore muttered with an exaggeratedly innocent face.
"Funny how the memory starts going when you get older…"
Wes didn't believe that feigned forgetfulness for a second.
Just as the professors were deep into a passionate discussion about finding Wes a suitable girlfriend...
Professor Quirrell suddenly burst into the Great Hall in a panic.
His large turban was askew, and his face was twisted in terror.
"Troll! Troll in the dungeon!" he cried, and then immediately collapsed onto the floor in a dead faint.
In an instant, the entire hall descended into chaos.
It wasn't until Dumbledore raised his wand and shouted—his voice magically amplified—that the students finally quieted down.
He quickly ordered the prefects to lead each year group safely back to their dormitories, while the professors were instructed to follow him down to the dungeon to investigate.
After all the students had been evacuated, Dumbledore led the professors in a rush toward the dungeons.
But before they could enter, they heard the sounds of a fierce struggle coming from the direction of the girls' bathroom.
Immediately, the professors changed course and hurried toward the source of the noise.
As they neared, a foul stench assaulted their senses—like a mix of sweaty socks and an unclean public toilet. It was putrid, unbearable.
Everyone knew this revolting smell could only belong to a troll.
The professors quickly drew their wands, preparing for combat.
Upon entering the bathroom, they found it utterly wrecked—smashed tiles, broken pipes, and water spilling everywhere.
A massive mountain troll lay sprawled motionless on the floor.
On the ground sat Hermione, tear-streaked and visibly shaken. Harry and Ron were crouched beside her, gently comforting her.
"Oh, my goodness…" Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Can someone please explain what happened here?"
Wes stepped forward, waved his wand, and conjured a powerful gust of wind. The blast of magic swept through the room, pushing the sickening stench out through the broken window.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Still brimming with excitement, Ron began enthusiastically recounting the whole ordeal of how he and Harry had bravely saved Hermione.
But before he could finish, Professor Snape cut in with a venomous sneer:
"Is your skull filled with dragon dung? In all my years of teaching, I've never met students as utterly foolish as you two."
McGonagall's expression darkened, and she began sternly reprimanding the trio:
"Why didn't you report this to a professor immediately? Do you not trust us to handle something this dangerous?"
Hermione shakily stood up, sobbing as she explained,
"It was my fault. I accidentally lured the troll here. If they hadn't found me in time, I'd be dead by now… The troll was about to eat me!"
McGonagall's disappointment was palpable.
"Miss Granger, I had thought you would be the most sensible student of this entire first-year class."
Hermione lowered her head in shame.
"For your recklessness, five points will be deducted from Gryffindor."
Her tone was firm and final.
All three students looked heartbroken at the penalty—especially Hermione, whose eyes welled with fresh tears.
But then McGonagall added,
"However, for first-year students, the courage you showed in confronting a full-grown mountain troll is extraordinary. For your bravery, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will each earn Gryffindor five points."
At once, the trio's despair turned into joy. They grinned and gave each other high fives in celebration.
"Now, check if you've been injured."
Professor Pomona Sprout stepped forward and gave each of them a careful inspection. After confirming there were no serious injuries, she sent them off to rest.
The troll's body, however, continued to emit its overpowering stench. In just a few minutes, the reek had already begun to flood the room once more.
Unable to endure it any longer, Professor McGonagall and the others quickly left.
Soon, only Wes, Dumbledore, and Snape remained at the scene.
"Why are you still here?" Snape said with open disdain, glaring at Wes.
Wes remained calm and replied evenly,
"I just thought I'd see if there was anything I could assist with."
But his eyes never left the troll's body.
After all, trolls had many parts that were extremely valuable for alchemy and potion-making. It was rare to get one in such good condition—Wes couldn't help but feel tempted.
Snape, however, had always been wary of Wes.
"We don't need you. Leave."
Even Dumbledore, who had stayed silent until now, joined in:
"Would you mind giving us a bit of privacy?"
Reluctantly, Wes turned to leave.
As he stepped away, he left behind a final offer: "I'm willing to purchase any troll materials at a high price. If you need help dissecting it, I'm quite experienced. Just saying."