MOUNTAIN TROLL

The next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione tumbled into Professor Flitwick's Charms classroom, their eyes wide with wonder. Sunbeams danced through towering windows, illuminating a whimsical ballet of dust motes in the air. The room buzzed with excitement, a symphony of whispers and giggles from first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins alike.

WHOOSH! A puff of purple smoke erupted from a curious contraption on a nearby shelf, filling the air with the scent of candied violets. TING-A-LING! A soft chime echoed from another corner, as if welcoming the young wizards and witches to their magical sanctuary.

Rows of desks curved in a grand semicircle, all facing a colossal desk at the front. Behind it stood a teetering tower of books that seemed to defy gravity itself, and atop this precarious perch sat the tiny Professor Flitwick, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

At the front of the room, a blackboard proudly displayed the words "Wingardium Leviosa" in swirling, shimmering script. Beneath it, a diagram danced to life, showing a wand performing the spell's signature swish and flick.

As the students settled into their seats, they discovered delicate feathers placed before them, as light as whispers and as soft as clouds. The room buzzed with excited chatter, a cacophony of wonder and curiosity.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat, his squeaky voice cutting through the noise. "Welcome, class! Today, we'll be learning one of the most fundamental charms in a wizard's arsenal: the Levitation Charm."

With a graceful flick of his wand, Flitwick's own feather took flight, soaring and twirling above their heads like a graceful ballerina. The students gasped in awe, their eyes following its mesmerizing dance.

"Now," Flitwick continued, "remember the wand movement we've been practicing. A swish and flick, nice and smooth. And don't forget - it's Win-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa. Enunciation is key!"

The classroom soon filled with the sound of students attempting the spell, their voices a chorus of "Wingardium Leviosa" in various tones and levels of frustration. Feathers twitched and rolled across desks, but few managed to lift into the air.

Harry glanced around the room, observing his classmates' progress. His eyes landed on Ron, who's red-faced and frustrated, jabbing his wand at the feather.

"Win-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa!" Ron shouted, but the feather remained stubbornly still.

Hermione sighed, turning to Ron. "You're saying it wrong," she explained. "It's Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA."

Ron scowled at her. "You do it then, if you're so clever."

Hermione straightened up, points her wand at her feather, and said clearly, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather rose gracefully into the air, hovering about four feet above their heads. Professor Flitwick clapped his hands in delight.

"Oh, well done!" he squeaked. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it! Five points to Gryffindor!"

Ron slumped in his chair, looking thoroughly annoyed. Hermione beamed with pride, but her smile faltered as she noticed something across the room.

Marteen Grindelwald sat at his desk, a look of intense concentration on his face. His wand was pointed at his feather, but his lips weren't moving. Suddenly—WHOOSH!—the feather lifted off his desk, floating smoothly through the air. It sailed across the classroom and landed gently on Professor Flitwick's desk with a soft 'plop'.

The tiny professor's eyes widened in astonishment. "Mr. Grindelwald! Was that... was that a non-verbal spell?"

Marteen nodded, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, sir. I've been practicin' a bit," he drawled with a distinct American twang.

"Extraordinary!" Flitwick exclaimed. "Non-verbal magic at your age... most impressive indeed! Seven points to Slytherin!"

Hermione's face fell, her earlier triumph overshadowed by Marteen's display. She glanced at Harry and Ron, who looked equally stunned.

As the classroom buzzed with excitement over Marteen's display of non-verbal magic, Hermione leaned closer to Harry, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did you see that?" she hissed, her eyes darting between Harry and Marteen. "Non-verbal spells are supposed to be incredibly difficult. They're not even taught until sixth year!"

Harry nodded, still processing what he's just witnessed. "Yeah, it was pretty impressive," he admitted.

Hermione's brow furrowed, a mix of envy and determination in her eyes. "It's not fair," she muttered. "I've been practicing for weeks, and he just... does it without even speaking."

Harry noticed the tight grip Hermione had on her wand, her knuckles turning white. "Hey," he said softly, "your spell was perfect too. Flitwick was really impressed."

But Hermione barely seemed to hear him. Her gaze was fixed on Marteen, who's now casually levitating multiple feathers at once, much to the delight of Professor Flitwick.

"I'll figure it out," Hermione said, more to herself than to Harry. "If he can do it, so can I. I just need to practice more."

As Hermione turned back to her own feather, her face set in concentration, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. He'd never seen Hermione so rattled by another student's success before. Glancing between Hermione and Marteen, Harry wondered how this new dynamic would play out in the coming days and weeks.

The rest of the class continued, with Hermione pushing herself harder than ever, determined to match and surpass Marteen's unexpected display of magical prowess.

Later that day, Harry and Ron were walking through the courtyard, kicking at fallen leaves as they discussed the Charms class.

Ron, still bristling from the lesson, waved his hand dramatically. "It's Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Merlin's beard, she's insufferable. Always has to be right, doesn't she?"

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable with Ron's tone. "She was just trying to help, I think."

"Help? More like show off. No wonder she hasn't got any friends. Who'd want to hang around someone so... so..."

"Bossy?" Harry supplied, though he immediately regretted it.

"Exactly!" Ron exclaimed. "A complete nightmare, that one."

Unknown to them, Hermione was walking just behind, having overheard the entire exchange. Her face crumpled, and she rushed past them, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh no, Ron. I think she heard us."

"Well... well, it's true, isn't it?"

Before Harry could respond, they heard slow, sarcastic applause behind them. They turned to see Marteen and Blaise approaching, identical smirks on their faces.

"Bravo, Ron," Marteen drawled, his American accent more pronounced. "Truly a masterclass in interpersonal skills. Making girls cry - is that a special Gryffindor talent?"

Blaise snickered beside him, eyeing Ron with disdain.

"Shove off, Marteen. This is none of your business."

"Oh, but it's so entertainin'," Marteen smirked. "Tell me, do you practice being this charming, or does it come naturally?"

Harry stepped forward, placing himself between Ron and the Slytherins.

"That's enough, Marteen. Just leave it alone."

"As you wish, Harry. We'll leave you to deal with the fallout of Ron's... social graces." He turned to leave but paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Oh, and good job, Ron. Really. Stellar performance."

With that, Marteen and Blaise walked away, their laughter echoing across the courtyard.

"Maybe we should go find Hermione," Harry suggested quietly.

Ron nodded reluctantly, the weight of his words and Marteen's mockery hanging heavy in the air as they set off to search for their classmate.

The Great Hall is alive with excitement as students gather for the Halloween feast. The enchanted ceiling reflects a stormy night sky, with floating jack-o'-lanterns casting a warm, flickering glow over the tables. Peeves the Poltergeist zooms overhead, cackling as he drops water balloons filled with orange and black confetti on unsuspecting students.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry's eyes scan the crowd, noticing an empty seat where Hermione usually sits. He turns to Parvati Patil, who's busy trying to shake confetti out of her hair.

"Hey, Parvati," Harry asks, "have you seen Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry. I heard she's been crying in the girls' bathroom all afternoon. I don't know why, though. No one's been able to get her to come out." Parvati replies.

Harry's brow furrows with concern. He turns to Ron, who's piling his plate high with Halloween treats, seemingly oblivious to Hermione's absence.

"Well, Ron," Harry says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I hope you're proud of yourself. Your stellar social skills have really outdone themselves this time."

Ron pauses, a pumpkin pasty halfway to his mouth, guilt flashing across his face.

"I didn't mean for her to hear that," he mumbles.

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Marteen Grindelwald sits with Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. While the others are engrossed in conversation about the feast, Marteen's gaze keeps drifting to the empty seat at the Gryffindor table where Hermione should be.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling tugs at Marteen's chest. He can't quite place it – concern? Guilt? Whatever it is, it's making him uncomfortable, and he doesn't understand why he should care about the absence of a Gryffindor know-it-all.

Draco, noticing Marteen's distraction, nudges him. "What are you staring at, Marteen? Hoping the mudblood will magically appear?"

Marteen blinks, caught off guard. "What? No, of course not," he lies smoothly. "I was just thinking how pathetic it is that she's missing the feast. Probably couldn't handle a little criticism."

Draco snickers, buying the excuse, but Marteen's eyes drift back to the empty seat. The uncomfortable feeling persists, leaving him confused and slightly irritated. He tries to focus on the feast, but his mind keeps wandering back to the image of Hermione's tear-stained face from earlier that day.

As the Halloween festivities continue around them, the absence of one student casts a subtle shadow over the evening, affecting both her friends and, unexpectedly, one of her rivals.

The Halloween feast is at its peak, laughter and chatter filling the Great Hall, when a thunderous crash silences the room. All eyes turn to see Professor Quirrell stumbling through the doors, his robes singed and smoking.

"Merlin's beard!" he wheezes, clutching his chest. "There's a... a troll! Loose in the dungeons!"

For a moment, stunned silence reigns. Then, as if a switch has been flipped, chaos erupts. Students leap from their seats, some screaming, others frozen in shock. A few older students draw their wands, looking around wildly as if expecting the troll to burst in at any moment.

Peeves, delighted by the mayhem, swoops overhead, cackling and shouting,

"Trolly wolly polly! Coming to eat your brolly!"

Dumbledore stands, his normally twinkling eyes now sharp and focused. He raises his wand, and a sound like a cannon blast echoes through the hall.

"SILENCE!"

The pandemonium stops instantly, all eyes turning to the headmaster.

"Students will remain calm," Dumbledore says, "Prefects, escort your houses to their common rooms immediately. Take the most direct routes and do not dawdle."

He turns to the staff table. "Professors, we must secure the castle. To the dungeons, if you please."

As the teachers hurry out and prefects begin organizing their houses, the gravity of the situation settles over the Great Hall. Halloween has taken an unexpected and dangerous turn, and the night is far from over.

Crabbe and Goyle leap to their feet, eyes wide with terror. They're about to bolt when Draco's drawling voice cuts through their panic.

"And where exactly do you two idiots think you're going?"

Crabbe and Goyle pause, confusion replacing fear on their faces. They look around, noticing that their housemates are still seated, looking remarkably calm despite the situation.

"Our dormitory is in the dungeon, you brain-dead buffoons. Or have you forgotten where you've been sleeping for the past two months?" Marteen said.

Crabbe and Goyle's faces turn red with embarrassment as they slowly sit back down. The other Slytherins snicker at their expense.

Draco smirks, "Honestly, it's a wonder you two can dress yourselves in the morning."

As the other houses begin to file out of the Great Hall, Marteen's eyes gleam with excitement. He sees the teachers heading towards the dungeons and an idea forms in his mind. Slowly, he starts to rise from his seat, ready to trail after them.

Draco notices Marteen's movement and grabs his arm. "Where do you think you're going?" he hisses.

"To see how the teachers deal with the troll, of course. Wouldn't you like to witness an epic magical battle?"

Draco's eyes widen, but before he can respond, Marteen's attention is drawn elsewhere.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron are following Percy with the rest of the Gryffindors when Harry suddenly stops in his tracks. He grabs Ron's arm, pulling him aside.

"Ron," Harry whispers urgently, "Hermione! She doesn't know about the troll!"

"Blimey, you're right. What do we do?"

Harry looks around, making sure Percy isn't watching. "We've got to warn her. Come on!"

As Harry and Ron slip away from the group, ducking behind a suit of armor, they don't notice a pair of keen eyes following their every move.

Marteen, who was about to follow the teachers, spots Harry and Ron sneaking off. His curiosity piqued, he makes a split-second decision. The troll can wait – whatever Potter and Weasley are up to seems far more interesting.

With a practiced ease, Marteen melts into the shadows, following the two Gryffindors at a discreet distance. He moves silently, his footsteps masked by the general commotion of students being led to their dormitories.

As Harry and Ron hurry through the corridors, they suddenly hear quick footsteps behind them. They turn to see Marteen Grindelwald catching up, a mix of curiosity and excitement on his face.

"Looks like I'm not the only one looking for some excitement. You two hunting for the troll too?"

Harry shakes his head urgently. "No, we need to find Hermione. She's in the girls' bathroom and doesn't know about the troll."

Marteen's eyebrows raise in surprise, but before he can respond, they hear footsteps echoing from a nearby corridor. The three boys duck behind a large stone griffin and watch as Professor Snape crosses the corridor and disappears from view.

"What's Snape doing?" Harry whispers. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the other teachers?"

"Dunno, but he's heading for the third floor." Ron said.

"Interesting. Perhaps there's more going on here than just a troll..." Marteen assume.

They don't have time to ponder this further as a foul stench reaches their nostrils. Then they hear it – low grunting and the shuffling of enormous feet. At the end of a passage to the left, they see a huge shadow move across the wall.

The three boys exchange alarmed glances as they realize the troll is moving into a room – the very room they were heading for.

"The girls' bathroom," Harry gasps.

Just as the words leave his mouth, they hear a high, petrified scream coming from inside the bathroom.

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry say together.

Marteen's eyes widen, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. The excitement he felt earlier is replaced by a surge of adrenaline as he realizes they're about to face a very real, very dangerous situation.

The three boys stand frozen for a moment, the echoes of Hermione's scream ringing in their ears, knowing they're the only ones who can help her.

Inside the Girls' Bathroom, panic surges through Hermione as the troll's tiny eyes scan the room. Hermione's mind races, searching for any spell that might help her. But fear has frozen her thoughts, and her wand feels useless in her trembling hand.

The troll's club swings, smashing the sinks. Shards of porcelain explode across the room. Hermione ducks, covering her head as debris rains down around her. She knows she can't stay hidden for long.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione decides to make a run for it. As the troll turns its back, she bursts out of the stall, sprinting towards the door. But the troll's reflexes are quicker than she anticipated.

Its club comes crashing down, missing her by inches and leaving a crater in the floor. Hermione stumbles, losing her footing on the wet tiles. She slides, ending up beneath a row of sinks.

The troll roars in frustration, unable to reach her in the tight space. It begins smashing the sinks one by one, working its way towards her. Water sprays everywhere, making the floor treacherous.

Hermione's mind finally kicks into gear. She points her wand at a large piece of broken mirror. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she cries, her voice shaky but determined. The shard rises into the air, then shoots towards the troll's face at her command.

The troll bellows in pain as the mirror slices its cheek. But this only seems to enrage it further. It redoubles its efforts to reach her, its club swinging wildly.

Hermione scrambles backwards, her robes soaked and heavy. She's running out of options and space. As the last sink explodes above her, she lets out a scream of terror.

Just then, the bathroom door bursts open again. Hermione looks up, hope and fear warring in her eyes as she sees who has come to her aid.

Hermione's eyes widen in surprise. Harry and Ron rush in, but her gaze is drawn to the third figure - Marteen Grindelwald. Confusion floods her mind; why would the Slytherin boy be here?

The troll towers over them, its grey skin glistening with moisture from the broken pipes. Its lumpy body, like a boulder with a small bald head perched on top, turns towards the newcomers. The creature's long arms drag a massive wooden club along the floor, leaving gouges in the stone.

Harry and Ron spring into action. Ron grabs a broken piece of porcelain and hurls it at the troll, trying to divert its attention from Hermione. The shard bounces off the troll's thick hide, barely leaving a mark, but it does turn its tiny eyes towards them.

Harry darts around, waving his arms and shouting, attempting to confuse the creature. But their efforts seem futile against the troll's immense size and strength.

Meanwhile, Marteen stands near the doorway, his eyes gleaming with fascination. He watches the troll's movements, studying its reactions, seemingly oblivious to the danger.

As the troll advances on Hermione again, Harry glances back at Marteen in frustration.

"Marteen! Do something!"

Marteen's expression shifts, a calm determination settling over his features. He raises his wand, his voice clear and steady as he utters two words:

"Imperio."

The spell hits the troll just as it's about to bring its club down on Hermione. The massive creature freezes, its tiny eyes glazing over. With precise movements of his wand, Marteen directs the troll to raise its club and bring it down on its own head. Once, twice, three times the club connects with a sickening thud.

The troll sways for a moment before crashing to the ground, unconscious.

Silence falls over the destroyed bathroom. Harry and Ron stare at Marteen in shock, not understanding what just happened. But Hermione's face is a mask of disbelief and horror. She knows exactly what spell Marteen used - an Unforgivable Curse, one that should be impossible for a first-year student to cast.

As the implications of what just occurred sink in, tension fills the air. Hermione's mind races, grappling with the fact that Marteen Grindelwald, a boy her age, has just effortlessly performed one of the darkest spells in the wizarding world.

As the dust settles and the immediate danger passes, Hermione cautiously steps closer to the boys, her eyes never leaving the unconscious troll. She's still shaken, but her curiosity and shock override her fear.

"Marteen," Hermione begins, her voice trembling slightly, "how... how did you do that? That spell... it's an Unforgivable Curse. It's not just advanced magic, it's illegal!"

Marteen turns to her, "I learned it from my grandfather's personal book," he says matter-of-factly, as if discussing a simple Levitation Charm. "He left behind quite a collection of interesting spells."

Ron, looking bewildered, glances between Hermione and Marteen. "Wait, what spell? What are you talking about? What's an Unforgivable Curse?"

Despite the tension in the air, Hermione can't resist the urge to explain. Her voice takes on a lecturing tone, though it still quivers slightly from the recent danger.

"The Imperius Curse is one of the three Unforgivable Curses," she says quickly. "It gives the caster complete control over the victim's actions. It's incredibly powerful dark magic, and using it on another person can earn you a life sentence in Azkaban."

"But... but Marteen just used it to save us, didn't he?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but that doesn't change how dangerous and illegal it is. The Ministry of Magic has forbidden its use under any circumstances." Hermione said.

"I just saved your lives," he says coolly. "Would you rather I'd let the troll smash you to pieces? Sometimes, you have to use every tool at your disposal. The spell itself isn't evil - it's how you use it that matters." Marteen defensive.

The others look at him, a mix of gratitude and unease on their faces. Before they can respond, they hear the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the bathroom. The four students exchange worried glances, suddenly realizing they'll have to explain not only their presence here but also how they managed to subdue a fully-grown mountain troll.

Marteen's expression shifts slightly, a hint of concern breaking through his cool exterior. He looks at the others, particularly Hermione, as if gauging what they might say about his use of the forbidden spell.

The footsteps grow louder, and the tension in the room rises. They're about to face the consequences of their actions, and the revelation of Marteen's dark magical knowledge hangs over them like a shadow.

The bathroom door bursts open, revealing Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell. Their eyes widen as they take in the scene before them: the wrecked bathroom, the unconscious troll sprawled on the floor, and the four first-year students standing amidst the chaos.

"What on earth were you thinking?" Professor McGonagall says, "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitories?"

Hermione steps forward, "Please, Professor McGonagall, it's my fault. I was in the bathroom when the troll came in. Harry, Ron, and Marteen came to help me."

Professor Snape's dark eyes narrow suspiciously.

"That doesn't explain how three first-year students managed to overpower a fully grown mountain troll," he says silkily. "Care to elaborate?"

Harry and Ron exchange nervous glances, but before they can speak, Marteen steps forward. His face is calm, almost proud, as he addresses the teachers.

"I used the Imperius Curse, Professors," Marteen says confidently. "I controlled the troll and made it knock itself out."

A shocked silence falls over the bathroom. Professor Quirrell lets out a small squeak and clutches his heart. Professor McGonagall's face pales, while Professor Snape's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You... you what?"

"Minerva, we need to take this discussion somewhere more private. Immediately." Snape suggested.

Professor McGonagall nods, "You're right, Severus. All four of you, come with us to Professor Snape's office. Now."

As they follow the teachers out of the bathroom, leaving behind the unconscious troll and the destroyed room, the gravity of the situation settles over them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchange worried glances, while Marteen walks with his head held high, seemingly unperturbed by the trouble they're in.

As they follow the teachers out of the bathroom, Harry notices Professor Snape walking with a slight limp. His eyes are drawn to a tear in Snape's robes near his leg, revealing a glimpse of what appears to be a fresh wound. Snape catches Harry's gaze and quickly adjusts his robes, covering the injury. His eyes narrow at Harry, silently warning him not to mention what he's seen.

The group makes their way through the eerily quiet corridors, with Professor Snape leading the way despite his noticeable limp. Harry's mind races, wondering how Snape could have been injured and what it might mean. He exchanges a quick glance with Ron and Hermione, silently communicating his observation.

As they approach Snape's office, the gravity of their situation settles over them. The use of an Unforgivable Curse within Hogwarts walls is unprecedented, and the consequences could be severe. Marteen, however, continues to walk with his head held high, seemingly untroubled by the potential ramifications of his actions.

The limping Snape reaches his office door first, his movements stiff and controlled as if trying to mask his discomfort. As he turns to usher the students inside, Harry catches another glimpse of the wound, raising even more questions in his mind about what Professor Snape might have been up to during the troll incident.

The heavy oak door of Snape's office closed with a foreboding thud, sealing the four students and two professors inside. The air was thick with tension, broken only by the soft bubbling of mysterious potions lining the shelves.

Professor McGonagall's stern gaze swept over Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"I am beyond disappointed in your reckless behavior," she began, "Wandering the castle during an emergency, deliberately disobeying direct orders—you could have been killed!"

"Professor, we had to warn Hermione about the troll. She didn't know—"

"We couldn't just leave her alone, Professor! We had to help!"

"They saved my life, Professor. If they hadn't come..."

"While your intentions were noble, your actions were incredibly dangerous. In the future, you must alert a teacher or prefect in such situations. Is that understood?" McGonagall said.

The three nodded solemnly, relief washing over them as they realized they might escape without losing house points. However, the tension in the room remained palpable as all eyes turned to Marteen Grindelwald.

Professor Snape, who had been silently observing from behind his desk, now leaned forward, "Well, Grindelwald," he drawled, "let's discuss your... spell choice."

Marteen met Snape's gaze unflinchingly. "I did what was necessary to save lives, Professor. The Imperius Curse was the most effective way to subdue the troll quickly."

"How convenient that you happened to know such an advanced—and illegal—spell. Tell me, where exactly did you learn it?" Snape asked.

"From my grandfather's book," Marteen replied coolly. "It's part of my magical heritage."

"Ah yes, your 'heritage,'" Snape's voice dripped with disdain. "Let me make one thing abundantly clear, Mr. Grindelwald. Hogwarts does not tolerate any dark magic within its walls, regardless of one's... lineage."

"The spell was used for good intentions, Professor. To save lives." Marteen said.

"Indeed?" Snape's eyebrow arched dangerously. "How fascinating. You know, Grindelwald, sometimes the darkest of intentions are born from the noblest of causes. Your grandfather's 'grand vision' for the wizarding world began with good intentions too, did it not? And we all know how that particular story ended."

The room fell silent, the weight of Snape's words hanging heavily in the air. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried glances, while Marteen's face had gone pale.

Snape rose from his chair, towering over the students.

"Mr. Grindelwald, as Head of Slytherin House, your fate falls under my jurisdiction. I suggest you return to your dormitory and pack your belongings. By tomorrow morning, you will no longer be a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in other word, expelled!"

"But Professor, you can't expel him! He saved our lives!" Harry protested.

Snape's gaze snapped to Harry, his eyes glittering with malice.

"I wasn't aware, Potter, that you had been appointed Headmaster. Your opinion on this matter is neither required nor desired. And I —"

 "Calm yourself, Professor."

All heads turned to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. No one had heard him enter.

"Headmaster," Snape said, "I was just explaining to Mr. Grindelwald the consequences of his actions."

Dumbledore nodded sagely as he stepped into the office. "I see. However, I believe we should suspend any talk of expulsion for the moment."

Snape's eyes widened in disbelief. "But Headmaster, the rules are clear. The use of an Unforgivable Curse—"

"The rules are indeed correct, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted gently, "but exceptions can be made when circumstances warrant them."

He turned to address the students, his blue eyes sweeping over each of them in turn.

"What transpired tonight was both dangerous and extraordinary. You faced a situation that would have challenged fully qualified wizards, let alone first-year students. Your actions, while reckless, demonstrated bravery, quick thinking, and loyalty to your fellow students."

Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Marteen. "As for you, Mr. Grindelwald, your use of advanced magic, while concerning, was born from a desire to protect others. It is not the spell itself, but the intention behind it that truly matters. However, I must impress upon you the gravity of using such magic. The path to darkness is often paved with good intentions."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "You all have shown qualities that your respective houses value. Gryffindor's courage, Slytherin's resourcefulness. But you've also demonstrated something far more important – the ability to work together in the face of adversity."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he continued,

"For your exceptional teamwork and bravery, I award fifteen points to Gryffindor."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged surprised glances.

"And for quick thinking and powerful spellwork in a crisis, I award fifteen points to Slytherin."

Snape's mouth opened in protest, but Dumbledore held up a hand. "However, this incident cannot go without concern. Mr. Grindelwald, you will undergo private tutoring to ensure you understand the ethical implications of the magic you wield."

He looked at each of them seriously. "I trust you all understand the gravity of tonight's events and will learn from this experience. Now, I believe it's time for you to return to your dormitories. It's been quite an eventful Halloween."

"Thank you professor." The four in unison.

As the students filed out, still processing what had just occurred, Dumbledore turned to the professors.

"Severus, Minerva, We have much to discuss."

The office door closed behind the students, leaving them to ponder the unexpected turn of events and the lessons learned on this most unusual Halloween night.

Dumbledore turned to face Snape and McGonagall, his expression grave.

"Now, to the matter at hand. Do we have any leads on how the troll managed to enter the castle?"

"None, Headmaster. The wards should have prevented such an intrusion. Someone must have let it in deliberately." Snape said

"But who would do such a thing?" McGonagall asked. "And why?"

Dumbledore sighed, stroking his long beard thoughtfully. "That, I'm afraid, remains a mystery. We must remain vigilant and investigate further."

There was a moment of tense silence before Snape spoke again.

"Headmaster, we cannot ignore the fact that young Grindelwald demonstrated knowledge of dark magic far beyond his years. It's... concerning."

McGonagall nodded in agreement. "Indeed. The boy's magical prowess is impressive, but the nature of his knowledge is troubling."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he regarded his colleagues. "Yes, Marteen Grindelwald's abilities are exceptional, as is his background. But let us not forget, it is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

McGonagall's expression softened slightly. "I must admit, Albus, your prediction about Harry and Marteen forming a close bond seemed far-fetched at first. Especially given their initial antagonism. But after tonight's events..."

"It appears they may indeed be on a path to an unlikely friendship," Dumbledore finished, a small smile playing on his lips.

Snape's lip curled skeptically, but he remained silent.

McGonagall shook her head in wonder. "I don't know how you do it, Albus. Your foresight never ceases to amaze me."

"Oh, Minerva, I assure you, I'm as surprised by the twists and turns of fate as anyone. I merely have a bit more practice in observing them." Dumbledore chuckled.

McGonagall straightened, suddenly remembering.

"Oh dear, the troll. We should probably see to its removal before it regains consciousness."

Snape nodded. "Agreed. We can continue this discussion later."

With that, Snape and McGonagall left to deal with the unconscious troll, leaving Dumbledore alone in the office, his blue eyes twinkling with a mixture of concern and hope for the future that lay ahead.

The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet when Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered. Most of their housemates had already gone to bed, leaving the trio alone by the crackling fire. They sank into the plush armchairs, the weight of the evening's events settling over them.

Ron was the first to break the silence, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Hermione, I... I'm sorry about what I said earlier. You know, about you being a nightmare. I didn't mean it."

"It's okay, Ron. I know I can be a bit... intense sometimes." Hermione said.

Harry leaned forward, "We're just glad you're alright. That troll... it was terrifying."

"Speaking of terrifying," Hermione said, "what about Marteen? I can't believe he used an Unforgivable Curse. And I can't believe Dumbledore defended him!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, he did save your life, Hermione. And ours too, probably."

"But it's dark magic, Harry!" Hermione insisted. "Those curses are illegal for a reason. How does he even know how to cast one?"

Ron leaned forward, "But Harry, remember why Marteen was there in the first place. He wasn't looking for Hermione. He followed us because he wanted to find the troll for himself. He was looking for excitement, not trying to help."

Harry paused, considering Ron's words. It was true; Marteen had initially followed them out of curiosity, not concern for Hermione. The realization made him frown.

"You're right," Harry admitted reluctantly. "He wasn't there to help at first. But he did end up saving us all in the end."

"That's what makes this so complicated. His actions saved us, but his intentions... and the magic he used... it's all very concerning." Hermione said.

"You don't think... you don't think he's trying to be like his grandfather, do you? Like he's trying to impersonate Gellert Grindelwald or something?" Ron asked.

"It's possible. We don't really know much about him, do we? And he does seem to have a lot of knowledge about dark magic." Hermione said.

Harry shook his head, feeling conflicted. "I don't know. He seemed genuinely concerned about helping us. And Dumbledore trusts him enough to keep him at Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore's been wrong before," Hermione pointed out. "Remember, he's the one who thought it was a good idea to hide whatever that three-headed dog is guarding in a school full of children."

"Yeah, and now we've got trolls breaking in too. Mental, if you ask me." Ron said.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look, I'm not saying we should trust Marteen completely. But maybe we shouldn't judge him too quickly either. There's still a lot we don't know."

The three friends fell into a thoughtful silence, each pondering the mysteries that seemed to be piling up around them. The troll, the three-headed dog, the package from Gringotts, and now Marteen Grindelwald and his dark magic. It was clear that their first year at Hogwarts was going to be far more complicated than they had ever imagined.

As the fire crackled and the night grew later, they finally decided to head to bed, their minds swirling with questions and theories about what might come next in this increasingly mysterious school year.