Chapter 23 - 23 Don’t tell me I taught you how to defend yourself.
Chapter 23: Don't tell me I taught you how to defend yourself.
"I... I don't know..." Quirrell stammered, looking innocent and trembling, "I... I only saw the troll rampaging in the basement... I have no idea where it could be now!"
Dracula stared intently at Quirrell, making him nervously avert his gaze.
"Whatever," Dracula said, patting Quirrell on the shoulder with a deep look in his eyes, "Go wherever you want next."
He then left the hall again, holding the deed to Hogwarts in the deserted entrance courtyard corridor and infused his magic into the old parchment.
Dracula's magic intertwined with the marks of the four founders on the paper, slowly forming a grid in the shape of Hogwarts Castle.
Each magic node of Hogwarts appeared vividly on the paper. As the castle's structures became increasingly clear, every corner's image gradually became distinct.
Dracula's gaze turned to the Great Hall on the parchment, where he saw the young wizards being led by their prefects, faces full of lingering memories of the Halloween feast and regret over its early end, as they headed to their common rooms.
He also saw Snape walking with his characteristic proud stride towards the restricted corridor on the right side of the fourth floor.
In contrast, Quirrell seemed frozen, standing motionless in front of the giant pumpkin in the Great Hall.
Under such comprehensive surveillance, Dracula soon found the runaway troll.
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Just as Dracula was preparing to enjoy the show via the live feed on the deed, two sneaky figures caught his attention.
"Hmm?"
Dracula was surprised and then disappeared from the spot.
...
Back at the feast, Harry was eating a potato with its skin on when Professor Quirrell suddenly burst into the hall, panicking about the troll.
Percy, the Gryffindor prefect, skillfully led the Gryffindor lions to their common room on the eighth floor, squeezing through the crowd of Hufflepuffs.
As they ascended the staircase to the eighth floor, Harry suddenly remembered something, his face turning pale as he grabbed Ron's arm.
"I just remembered—Hermione!" he said to Ron.
"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked, taken aback and somewhat reluctant.
During that morning's Charms class, Ron had been extremely annoyed by Hermione's behavior and had spoken ill of her to Harry, suggesting she reflect on why she had no friends. Unfortunately, Hermione had overheard Ron's words.
Feeling extremely hurt and not wanting anyone to see her vulnerable state, Hermione had disappeared for the entire afternoon, not even attending the Halloween feast.
Just moments ago, Harry had recalled hearing a piece of news before the feast started—Pavarti Patil had told Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom, refusing any comfort.
Realizing Hermione wasn't with the Gryffindors, Harry feared she might encounter the troll alone!
"Ron, Hermione doesn't know about the troll!" he said urgently to Ron. "It's partly our fault she didn't come to the feast; we can't just do nothing!"
Ron bit his lip hard.
"Oh, alright," he said decisively, "but let's make sure Percy doesn't see us."
Having made up their minds, Harry and Ron crouched down, mingling with the Hufflepuff crowd and heading in the opposite direction.
They sneaked through an empty side corridor, hurrying to the girls' bathroom.
The stench grew stronger, accompanied by deep grunts and the sound of enormous feet dragging on the ground.
The next moment, a terrifying sight struck them—a twelve-foot-tall troll suddenly appeared around the corner!
Its dull skin was gray like granite, its huge and clumsy body resembling a heap of boulders with a small cocoa bean-like head on top.
Its short, thick legs were like tree trunks, ending in flat, calloused feet. The foul stench of old socks and uncleaned public restrooms emanated from the troll, making them nauseous.
The troll held a large wooden club, dragging it on the ground with a grating noise.
...
The Halloween feast had ended, and the storm clouds summoned by weather spells had dissipated, letting the bright moonlight pour through Hogwarts' tall windows.
In the moonlit shadows hung a bat with glossy fur.
It seemed, perhaps just an illusion, that the bat was watching the scene inside a bathroom with great interest.
Following the bat's gaze, one could see a fierce battle taking place in the girls' bathroom on the first floor.
The troll, provoked multiple times by Ron, turned its attention away from Hermione and cornered Ron.
Seeing this, Harry steeled himself and leapt forward, wrapping his arms around the troll's neck from behind and thrusting his wand into one of its nostrils.
The troll roared in pain, thrashing and swinging its club wildly, threatening to dislodge Harry and strike him down!
At this critical moment, the troll's violent movements abruptly froze.
Caught off guard, Harry lost his grip and fell off the troll.
In the corner, Ron clutched his wand tightly, staring in shock at the now-motionless troll, unsure of what to do.
"Mr. Potter, if anyone asks, please don't say that I taught you Defense Against the Dark Arts. I can't bear the shame."
A familiar voice came from the bathroom door.
Harry looked overjoyed at the source of the voice, seeing a tall figure with silver hair and wine-red eyes standing in the moonlight, looking at him with disdain.
"Professor Dracula!!" Harry shouted with excitement, not caring about the disdain on Dracula's face.
He felt his strength drain away, the courage he had shown vanishing, leaving only fear as he collapsed to the ground.
Dracula waved his hand, clearing the foul air, and then stepped forward to the three young wizards.
"Mr. Potter, recite the lesson from the first class," he said calmly, looking at the sitting Harry. "What is the most appropriate response when you face a dangerous situation?"