Chapter 4 – The First Lessons
(Block 4)
The end of October brought with it the crisp chill of autumn, the castle's windows fogged and leaves swirling in golden drifts across the grounds. Hogwarts felt alive in a different way—festive, full of whispers of costumes and feasts. The Great Hall dazzled with floating pumpkins and flickering candles, laughter echoing louder than usual.
For Harry, it was the first real holiday he'd ever celebrated. He sat between Ron and Hermione, staring at the enchanted decorations with wide-eyed wonder. Plates overflowed with roast chicken, shepherd's pie, treacle tarts, and pumpkin pasties. For once, he felt… at home.
But the feeling didn't last.
The Troll
The doors to the Great Hall banged open. Professor Quirrell staggered inside, turban askew, his face a mask of panic.
"T-troll—in the dungeon!" he gasped, collapsing theatrically. "Thought you ought to know…"
Chaos erupted. Students screamed, benches scraped against the stone floor, and the house tables broke into frantic clusters.
"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice thundered, silencing the room at once. His eyes scanned the crowd, sharp even beneath his calm demeanor. "Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately."
But Percy, Artemis, and Athena exchanged a glance. Their expressions said everything: they weren't going anywhere.
Harry felt it too—that same pull he always did around them, the sense that staying with them meant safety. Ron tugged at his sleeve, but Harry barely moved.
In the Corridors
The Gryffindors were herded toward the tower, but Percy veered suddenly down another passage. Artemis and Athena followed without hesitation.
"Where are you—" Ron began, but Harry cut him off, his feet moving after Percy almost without thought.
Hermione hesitated, then followed too, muttering about insanity.
The corridors were darker here, torches flickering in drafts of cold air. The smell hit them first—stale, foul, like rotting meat. Then the sound: deep, shuffling footsteps.
And there it was.
The troll loomed at the end of the corridor, its club dragging across the floor. Its gray skin was mottled, its eyes small and stupid, but its sheer size made the stones tremble underfoot.
Hermione gasped. Ron froze. Harry's stomach clenched.
The troll roared, the sound rattling windows.
Percy stepped forward, calm, almost casual. "Stay behind me."
Nyxios Returns
Before the troll could swing its club, a surge of air swept the corridor. Torches guttered, then flared with white light. Shadows peeled back like curtains.
And Nyxios descended.
The great creature materialized from a rift of starlight, wings stretching so wide the ceiling seemed to bend. Feathers shimmered with constellations, talons striking sparks as they touched the flagstones. The troll froze mid-swing, its tiny mind overwhelmed by primal terror.
Nyxios cried—a deep, resonant sound that shook dust from the ceiling. The troll clapped its hands over its ears, stumbling backward.
Artemis raised her bow in the shimmering light, though she didn't loose an arrow. Athena's hand glowed faintly, her sharp gaze never leaving the beast. Percy simply lifted his hand, and Nyxios responded instantly, wings sweeping forward.
The troll was slammed against the far wall by a burst of silver wind, its club flying from its grip. With another cry, Nyxios reared, eyes blazing like suns, and the troll collapsed in a heap, unconscious.
Silence followed.
Ron gaped. Hermione clutched Harry's sleeve so tightly his arm went numb.
Nyxios folded his wings with deliberate grace, the corridor still bathed in starlight. Percy approached the creature and touched his beak lightly. "Thank you, old friend," he murmured.
The majestic beast inclined its head before dissolving back into the night sky, gone as suddenly as it had come.
Reactions
Professors arrived moments later, Snape and McGonagall at the front. Snape's expression darkened instantly at the sight of the unconscious troll.
"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall demanded. "What are you students doing here?"
Hermione stammered, "We—we followed them—they saved us—the troll—"
Her words tumbled over themselves, but McGonagall was already staring at Percy, Artemis, and Athena, her lips pressed tight.
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That creature," he hissed. "That was not—" He cut himself off, his glare intensifying. "Whatever it was, it is not permitted here."
Artemis's gaze was cool. "Would you rather the troll had flattened your first-years?"
McGonagall bristled, but couldn't argue. The troll lay unconscious, unharmed except for its pride.
Dumbledore arrived last, his expression unreadable. His gaze flickered from the troll to the students, then to Percy. For the briefest moment, their eyes locked—and something sharp passed between them.
"Well," Dumbledore said softly, "it seems no lasting harm was done. Fifty points to Gryffindor… for bravery."
But his tone was not congratulatory. It was wary.
In the Shadows Again
That night, Quirrell sat trembling in his chambers. Voldemort's voice hissed in his skull, more agitated than ever.
That beast again. That… Nyxios.
Quirrell whispered, "It obeyed the boy. It destroyed the troll as if it were nothing—"
Do you understand what this means? Voldemort thundered. It means I cannot act yet. Every move I make is smothered by that thing's aura. Even through you, my reach falters. Curse him. Curse them all.
For the first time, Voldemort sounded less like a master than a cornered animal.
After Curfew
Later, in their secret tower room, Percy, Artemis, and Athena sat close together, the echo of Nyxios' cry still vibrating in their bones.
"You revealed him," Artemis said quietly.
Percy leaned back, sighing. "It wasn't a choice. The troll was too close to Harry."
Athena touched his hand. "Then it was the right choice."
Artemis's eyes softened. "Still… the headmaster will not let this go. He saw Nyxios. He knows."
Percy's jaw tightened. "Let him wonder. Hogwarts isn't his to control. Not anymore."
Artemis and Athena leaned into him, the three of them wrapped in each other's warmth as the autumn wind howled outside. For all the castle's eyes and whispers, this was theirs—the bond no scheme or prophecy could touch.
And somewhere in the distance, Nyxios circled the castle, wings slicing through the starlit sky, ever watchful.