Chapter 35: Harry: "Mr. Shelby's in Danger! We Have to Save Him!"

Chapter 35: Harry: "Mr. Shelby's in Danger! We Have to Save Him!"

With Halloween approaching, the feast in the Great Hall was exceptionally lavish, the tables laden with every kind of delicacy.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry kept looking around, as if searching for someone. Ron, beside him, was oblivious, entirely focused on demolishing a chicken leg.

"Harry, stop looking for Shelby," Hermione said, noticing his distraction. "At this time, he's either in Professor McGonagall's office or Professor Flitwick's."

She then glanced at Ron, who was choking slightly from eating too fast, and rolled her eyes. "Ronald, if you put even half—no, a third—of the enthusiasm you have for eating into your studies, you might actually be able to manage a simple Levitation Charm!"

Ron, desperately trying to find his goblet of pumpkin juice, didn't have the breath to retort.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked Hermione curiously. "Apart from seeing him in classes sometimes, I've barely seen Mr. Shelby at all lately..."

Hermione's expression was complicated. "Every time I go to see Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick, Shelby's there..."

"I know! He got a month's detention for that business on the first night," Ron chimed in, having finally cleared his throat. "But Hermione, what are you doing visiting the professors all the time?"

"It doesn't look like normal detention to me," Hermione said, a hint of envy in her voice. "More like... private tutoring. As for why I see the professors, it's mostly because I feel the homework assignments are too light. I've been asking them for extra work."

"???" Harry and Ron exchanged a look of bewildered horror, managing, just barely, to restrain themselves from shouting at her.

As the three were chatting, the doors to the Great Hall burst open, and Professor Quirrell stumbled in. His turban was askew, his face a mask of terror. Everyone stared as he staggered towards Dumbledore's chair and collapsed against the table.

He gasped for breath, looking utterly wretched. "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know."

And with that, Professor Quirrell slid to the floor in a dead faint.

For a split second, the Hall was silent. Then, chaos erupted.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore commanded, rising to his feet. He pointed his wand at his throat, and his voice boomed through the hall. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy Weasley instantly jumped up and began organizing the Gryffindors into lines. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the crowd towards the doors.

Suddenly, Harry, who was leading their little group, stopped dead. Ron, still mourning his unfinished chicken leg, wasn't paying attention and walked straight into his back.

"Harry? What'd you stop for?" Ron asked, rubbing his bruised nose.

Harry's eyes were wide with panic. "Shelby! Mr. Shelby isn't here! I have to warn him! There's a troll in the castle!"

Seeing Harry's desperate expression, Ron reacted like a true Weasley. Without a second thought, he peeled away from the crowd, following Harry.

"Are you two mad?!" Hermione hissed, hurrying after them.

Ron gritted his teeth in frustration. Stupid girl! Is she really worried about losing house points at a time like this?

Hermione caught up to them and grabbed their arms, trying to pull them back. "I knew it! You two are terrified of professors! Like mice seeing a cat! You don't even know where Professor Flitwick's office is!"

Her face was flushed, and she was surprisingly strong. "You idiots! You're going the wrong way!"

While the Gryffindor trio was panicking, Leon was curiously observing the troll.

How on earth are these things born? he wondered. Such a peculiar design.

The troll had stopped outside a doorway and was peering inside. Its long ears twitched as it seemed to contemplate going in. Halfway through its 'thought' process, it glanced back and saw Leon standing at the end of the corridor.

It blinked its small, dull eyes, then let out a deafening roar and charged.

Though its gait was clumsy, the troll moved surprisingly fast. It raised its massive club high, intending to squash the little black-clad insect in its path.

"Expelliarmus."

Leon was unruffled. The Disarming Charm shot from his wand almost simultaneously with the word. His dueling skills, honed by weeks of relentless practice, had reached a new level. He could even hold his own against Professor Flitwick now, sometimes.

As expected, the lumbering troll, unlike the cunning Malfoy, didn't understand the concept of a tactical retreat. Its club flew from its grasp, and its forward momentum brought it to a stumbling halt.

Leon didn't stop there. With a flick of his wand, he cast a Transfiguration spell. The troll's club, still sailing through the air, transformed mid-flight into a long, thick rope.

"Incarcerous!"

The rope whipped through the air and wrapped itself tightly around the troll's body, binding it completely in seconds.

"Troll. Adult, average height approximately twelve feet, average weight around one ton," Leon recited, recalling what he'd read. "Skin is pale grey... carries a large wooden club... must be a Mountain Troll. The most dangerous of the three breeds."

He eyed the bound creature. "Mountain Trolls possess a significant resistance to certain spells..."

This piqued his curiosity. He decided to test the troll's 'magic resistance.'

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The troll's struggles ceased instantly. Only its eyes darted around frantically. But the effect was short-lived; the troll soon began to move again.

"Interesting... Let's try another."

"Stupefy!"

The troll collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud, but again, it stirred back to consciousness after only a few moments.

This time, something seemed to click in its tiny brain. It stopped roaring at Leon and simply crouched on the floor, looking miserable.

But it was no use.

"Incendio!"

"Reducto!"

"Bombarda!"

The unfortunate troll became Leon's unwilling test subject. Its howls were pitiful, quickly turning hoarse. Snot and tears streamed down its lumpy face.

"Poor thing," Leon said, his heart softening slightly at the pathetic noises. He waved his wand again. "Silencio!"

The troll's cries were instantly cut off. Its throat worked, but no sound emerged.

Leon nodded, satisfied. He marvelled at the troll's incredible resilience as he continued to test various spells on it.

Meanwhile, the Gryffindor trio had also heard the troll's initial roars.

"The troll's stopped roaring! It must have been fighting someone!" Harry's face was pale. "Which means... it's over now..."

His voice filled with dread.

"MR. SHELBY!!!"