Boom!
"What was that?!"
Before Hermione could even process what had just happened, she saw the massive troll suddenly collapse forward without warning, crashing to the ground with a thunderous thud.
"Is it... dead?"
She stood frozen, staring blankly at the creature, which still trembled faintly on the floor. Just moments ago, it had been swinging its club with brute strength, and now it lay there limp—like a dead dog.
As Hermione's gaze began to drift toward the troll's fallen head, her stiff body was suddenly pulled away—Draco had grabbed her hand and was half-forcing her to leave the scene.
"How long are you planning to stand there? I'm not staying in this stink any longer."
He stepped around the spreading pool of troll blood with clear disgust, led her past the corpse, and out of the bathroom.
From the calm expression on Draco's face, you'd never guess he had just taken down a troll with a single spell.
Hermione glanced dazedly at his profile as they exited the bathroom. Once outside, she finally snapped back to reality, yanked her hand away, and quickly stepped back several paces, putting clear distance between them.
And judging by the look on her face, it wasn't out of embarrassment...
...
A strange, heavy silence settled between them.
Draco frowned at the sight of the little witch with her head lowered, completely at a loss.
He was just about to ask when Hermione's hesitant voice broke the stillness.
"That spell just now... it was dark magic, wasn't it?"
It was framed as a question, but her tone held no uncertainty.
Clearly, Hermione knew exactly what kind of magic Draco had used to bring down the troll.
Draco froze for a moment, then leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, and let out a cold chuckle as he turned his head slightly.
"So what if it was?"
It was the first time Hermione had ever seen Draco like this—so distant, so cold. Her fingers tightened into fists, knuckles turning pale.
"But... but..."
She was about to say more, voice shaky with unease and a hint of hurt—but footsteps from the corner of the corridor cut her off.
"Hermione, are you okay?!"
"I told you, Harry, no way we'd actually run into the troll... Wait—Draco Malfoy?! What are you doing here?!"
It was Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Clearly, they'd come looking for Hermione, worried about her.
Draco glanced first at Weasley, who stared at him with open hostility, then at Harry, who was looking around the destroyed bathroom as if a bomb had gone off.
Finally, he turned to Hermione again and held her gaze, his tone sharp.
"Why am I here? Why don't you ask Miss Granger, you idiot."
It was the first time Draco had pronounced her name correctly.
But strangely, instead of being pleased, Hermione's body trembled slightly at his words. Her expression wavered, and the redness in her eyes seemed to deepen, on the verge of spilling over.
...
"What did you say?! Don't think I'm afraid of you!"
Although Ron shouted at Draco, who stood calmly against the wall, it was all bark and no bite—he wouldn't dare come any closer.
Draco seemed to exude a cold aura...
"It's not like that, Draco... he came to save—"
"By Merlin's beard! Why aren't you in your respective common rooms?!"
Before Hermione could explain, Professor McGonagall burst in, cutting her off. Professor Snape followed close behind.
"What an interesting sight—our Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter together, hm!"
Draco stiffened at her words, his expression odd. Was he supposed to feel flattered? At least Snape knew there was someone beside Harry...
Professor Quirrell, pale and shaken, trailed in behind them.
"A troll! A troll!! What on earth happened here? What have you done?"
That unmistakable stench tipped off McGonagall. From her vantage point, the girls' bathroom lay in ruin, the troll's corpse inside.
Harry and Ron gaped, confused.
"A troll? Where?"
After ensuring no student was harmed, McGonagall barged into the bathroom.
"What is this? Severus, come see this," she called to Snape.
"How… interesting."
Professor Quirrell collapsed in tears at the sight of the troll's body. McGonagall and Snape exchanged impressed glances with the students.
Snape's gaze locked onto Draco alone.
"I think I know who felled this troll, don't you, Mr. Malfoy?"
He glared at Draco. Draco responded with an innocent look, and Snape's expression darkened.
"I must say, Severus, your godson has extraordinary talent in Charms."
Everyone knew Draco was Snape's godson, but Harry and Ron's surprised expressions spoke volumes.
McGonagall nodded. She wasn't shocked Draco could cast Sectumsempra, Snape's own spell, but what amazed her was how perfectly he'd mastered it at such a young age.
"And not only that," she added, "your godson seems capable of amplifying Sectumsempra's power with his own magic."
"What did you just say?!" Snape clenched his jaw.
"I know the true strength of Sectumsempra better than anyone."
He turned away from Draco and studied the troll corpse: a clean, precise cut, deep gouges in the wall—far beyond what ordinary Sectumsempra could achieve.
He swallowed, admitting to himself that he had gravely underestimated his godson's power.