The Great Hall had never looked more spectacular.
Pumpkin lanterns floated in the air, casting a warm golden glow, while countless black-cloth bats swooped and darted overhead. Sometimes, entire flocks would vanish into the hollow pumpkins, only to burst out again in a swirling cloud, circling the vaulted ceiling before disappearing once more.
Unlike the formal atmosphere of the Start-of-Term Feast, the Halloween banquet was a far more relaxed affair—no speeches, no rigid rules. Dumbledore didn't bother with a grand address tonight. Instead, he raised his goblet with the other professors, laughter and conversation echoing down the long tables.
All the students had to do was take their seats and let the feast begin. Platters of roast meats and mountains of sweets appeared as if by magic, and the air buzzed with excitement.
Halfway through the feast, Ron and Harry finally arrived, late and looking utterly miserable. Both were drenched in sweat, their faces drawn and troubled.
Spotting his brother, Percy arched an eyebrow. "Ron, what on earth took you so long?"
"And where are Fred and George? Don't tell me you've been up to something—promise me you're not following their example!"
"We haven't—we were just looking for someone…" Ron mumbled awkwardly, not meeting Percy's gaze.
Neville was busy devouring a lamb chop, talking around a mouthful of food. "Harry, did you find Hermione?"
"Hermione's missing?" Percy frowned. "What happened?"
Ron and Harry exchanged glances, and with a little help from Neville, finally managed to explain the situation.
"So… you searched the castle and still couldn't find her?" Percy pressed, his brow furrowing deeper. "Did you try… the girls' bathroom?"
"Huh?" Harry and Ron looked up in surprise. "Hermione is in the girls' bathroom?"
"I heard it from your classmate—Miss Patil," Percy replied. "She said Hermione locked herself in there and cried all afternoon. Nothing anyone said could get her out."
"Which bathroom?" Ron demanded. "What floor?"
"The far side of the marble staircase—there's a secluded corridor there," Percy recalled. "Caught Fred and George sneaking around there just the other day!"
As Gryffindor prefect, Percy knew all the castle's hidden nooks and passageways—thanks, in large part, to his "wonderful" brothers.
"Then let's go check!" Ron and Harry shared a look. "Wyzett was right… We need to talk to her properly."
Bang!
Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open.
A breathless, wild-eyed Quirrell staggered in, looking like he might collapse at any moment. His face was sheet-white, his robes soaked through with sweat.
"Troll! Troll!" he shrieked, panic in every syllable, and staggered up to Dumbledore. "Troll in the dungeons… thought you ought to know…"
He didn't finish. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Trolls could reach twelve feet high, with thick hides that resisted most spells. Unpredictable and violent, they were infamous in the wizarding world for their brute strength and utter lack of intelligence. Even Hogwarts exams used "Troll" as the lowest possible grade—meaning "your performance is as bad as a troll's brains."
Every Hogwarts student knew how dangerous trolls were. The moment Quirrell's words sank in, chaos erupted.
Students leapt from their benches, shoving and shouting, trying to flee in every direction.
"Silence!"
A firework exploded above the Hall, showering the room in brilliant light and a thunderous boom that stunned everyone into stillness.
"Don't panic! There is still time." Dumbledore's voice rang out, deep and commanding, cutting through the fear like a bell at dawn.
He continued, "Prefects, lead your Houses back to your common rooms."
He stepped over to Snape, lowering his voice. "Go take a look. But don't reveal yourself too soon."
"Understood. Disillusionment Charm," Snape murmured, tapping his wand against his arm. His form shimmered, then faded until he was completely invisible.
At Dumbledore's command, the prefects sprang into action.
Percy called out over the clamor, "Gryffindors, with me! Back to the common room—quickly, now!"
With no time to lose, he herded his House up to the eighth floor. But as he took roll call, something struck him as wrong. "Neville, where are Ron and Harry? Where did they go?"
Neville shook his head helplessly. Seamus piped up, "I think I saw them head back the other way—said something about warning someone…"
Percy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Those two… They must have gone to find Hermione! I have to tell Professor McGonagall!"
On his way, he ran into the Ravenclaw prefect. "Penelope? Are you looking for someone too?"
Penelope nodded anxiously. "Yes, Wyzett is missing… He never showed up for the Halloween feast!"
…
Time rewound to just over ten minutes earlier.
The Great Hall now stood empty. On the floor, Quirrell groaned and struggled to his feet.
"Disillusionment Charm!"
With a shimmer, he vanished from sight and hurried up the marble staircase toward the fourth-floor corridor.
Above, he could hear prefects corralling students. Quirrell exhaled shakily, gripping his wand tight. In the back of his mind, a desperate hope flickered—if he could just pull this off, perhaps tonight he could finally fulfill Voldemort's command. Then he could flee Hogwarts forever, leaving fear behind.
He tried to comfort himself with the thought. "Shame… Never got the chance to pass on what I know to Wyzett…"
He muttered, then hurried down the corridor toward the heavy door at its end.
Whoosh!
A razor-sharp silver streak sliced through the air toward him.
"Protego!" Quirrell dropped his invisibility, his wand flicking up. A transparent shield shimmered into existence just in time.
He countered instantly, thrusting his wand at the source of the attack. "Confringo!"
A blast of orange-red fire shot from his wand, streaking down the corridor.
Snape appeared, flicking his wand with effortless precision. The Blasting Curse fizzled harmlessly in midair.
His voice was cold and measured. "Quirinus Quirrell. As a professor, shouldn't you be searching for the troll? What are you doing here?"
As Snape advanced, Quirrell's eyes widened in terror. He stumbled backward, stammering, "I—I was just worried someone might come here!"
"Headmaster Dumbledore told me… someone's after the school's treasure. I thought the troll's escape was suspicious, so I came to check!"
"A flawless excuse. Truly the mark of a great professor," Snape drawled, positioning himself in front of the door. "I'm here now. You may leave."
"Why are you standing there?" Quirrell was slick with sweat, his voice trembling. "Are you… are you the one after the treasure?"
"An interesting accusation." Snape's tone turned glacial. "Perhaps I should fetch Dumbledore and let you repeat that to his face."
"Fine! I'll fetch… fetch Headmaster Dumbledore right now!" Quirrell took a step back—then, in a flash, snapped his wand forward.
"Avis!"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
Explore More Amazing Fanfiction on My Patreon!
Unlock 30+ Advance Chapters and Enjoy Exclusive Stories Early!
��patreon.com/GoldenLong