Chapter 30: The Pointy Hat on the Fang

Honestly, Harold was a little stunned—he stood frozen for a full second before his brain caught up. His original plan was to unlock the door, lure away Fluffy's aggression, and then slip out during the chaos. After all, when two massive beasts were tearing into each other, a tiny first-year would probably be the least of anyone's concern. But he hadn't expected the troll to be so... cooperative. It had just barreled straight in. Now, it seemed, there was no need to sneak away at all. Behind him, the clash of roars and gnashing teeth shook the corridor, and somewhere below, he could already hear footsteps—rapid, chaotic, growing louder by the second. Harold stuffed the trembling Bowtruckle into his pocket and bolted. Moments later, someone arrived. Snape was the first to storm into the corridor, robes billowing, a fierce scowl etched on his face. McGonagall followed close behind, and Quirrell staggered up the rear, wheezing. Snape yanked at the door handle—click—it gave way. A blast of foul air burst forth—blood, drool, and something far worse. Even Snape, who had long dealt with rat intestines and leech juice, turned ghostly pale, visibly suppressing his gag reflex. Quirrell glanced once inside—then promptly doubled over and began vomiting in earnest. It was... relentless. McGonagall grimaced, though she held it together better than the others. She had seen worse—far worse, in fact—but her hand still trembled slightly as she drew her wand and murmured a spell. Heavy chains whipped through the air, latching around Fluffy's body and hoisting the enormous beast into the air. "Severus!" she barked. Snape nodded grimly and stepped forward, grabbing one of the troll's massive arms and dragging it clear of the room. Huuurrkk! Quirrell retched even harder. His eyes watered. His nose ran. McGonagall looked like she was fighting the urge to hex him on the spot. Before she could say anything, a calm, commanding voice called from the far end of the corridor. "Minerva." Dumbledore had arrived. "Albus," McGonagall said immediately, "we—" "I saw," Dumbledore said gently, eyes already scanning the wreckage. He turned his gaze. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger—could I trouble you to escort Professor Quirrell to the infirmary?" "Y-yes, sir." From the shadows, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped forward, heads low. They had thought they were hidden well—but clearly not well enough. As they walked past the chaos, Harry couldn't resist peeking down the corridor. But all he could see was a thick white mist cloaking the hallway. The details beyond were completely obscured. Still, McGonagall's furious voice rang loud and clear. "Wandering the castle instead of returning to your dorms—when you knew there was danger! What foolishness is this?! Gryffindor will lose five points—each!" Harry flinched. Ron and Hermione said nothing. He turned toward Dumbledore, voice shaking slightly. "Professor... it wasn't like that. We weren't messing around—we were looking for Harold." "Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "In that case, should I subtract another five points from Gryffindor?" "No, no! That's not what I meant," Harry quickly explained. "He said he dropped something and had to go back. He didn't know about the troll. We just wanted to warn him." "I see." Dumbledore nodded. "And why didn't you tell a professor? If I recall correctly, Professors Flitwick and Sprout were with the students at the time." "We... we forgot." Harry's voice trailed off, sheepish. "In that case, please take Professor Quirrell to the hospital wing. He appears to be on the verge of unconsciousness." Harry didn't reply this time. He and Ron simply hurried forward and grabbed the moaning, heaving Quirrell by the arms. Dragging him wasn't elegant, but it worked. Nobody stopped them—not even Dumbledore. What else could three first-years realistically do? Once they disappeared, Dumbledore approached the scene and began examining it carefully. Five minutes later, Hagrid came barreling in. "Fluffy—oh, Fluffy..." His voice cracked at the sight of the bloodied, chained three-headed dog. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Poor thing..." "Don't start," McGonagall snapped. "That 'poor thing' just killed a full-grown mountain troll." She pointed at the troll's body—what was left of it, anyway. It looked more like it had been tossed in a meat grinder than defeated in a fight. Hagrid let out a strangled squawk that sounded more duck than man. "This is terrifying," Snape said coldly. "From the moment we heard the noise to now—it can't have been more than two minutes. And in that time, it tore a mountain troll clean in half." "Dumbledore, we can't allow this creature to stay at Hogwarts." "No, no, that's not it..." Hagrid stammered. "Fluffy—he's usually real gentle. He must've been provoked!" "So what you're saying," Snape sneered, drawing out every word, "is that the troll—whose brain isn't even the size of a walnut—somehow provoked the three-headed dog?" "I-I..." Hagrid looked helplessly toward Dumbledore, eyes pleading. "I trust Hagrid," Dumbledore said calmly. "Albus—" Snape protested. "Be patient, Severus," Dumbledore replied. He pointed toward Fluffy's leftmost head. "Look here." Snape followed the gesture—and frowned. The dog's mouth was torn, gums shredded, and two large teeth were clearly missing. "This... the troll did that?" Snape sounded skeptical. What troll was that strong? Cerberus could eat grounded dragons, for Merlin's sake. And you're telling me a troll—barely literate in its own language—cracked its teeth? "Judging by the evidence, it's the only explanation we have," said Dumbledore, standing tall once more. "The troll must have accidentally wandered into the school. It stumbled upon the fourth-floor corridor, broke into the room, and struck the dog with its club, injuring its mouth. In a rage, the dog retaliated—and killed it." Dumbledore's tone was steady. But everyone else just stared. That sequence of events... even hearing it felt absurd. "That leads to a more pressing question," Dumbledore continued. "How did it get in? The front gate is untouched—there are no signs of forced entry. Are we to assume the troll used a key?" "Maybe we should ask the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Snape said icily. "He did claim to be the first one to spot the troll in the dungeon." "Quirinus is in the hospital wing, Severus," said Dumbledore. "He's had quite the shock." "Hmph..." Snape let out a frosty laugh. "If needed, I'd be happy to brew him a calming draught." (End of Chapter)