Aftermath

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The three professors who had just arrived stood in the spotless bathroom, faces full of confusion.

"It was a Mountain Troll, ten feet tall," Sargeras said calmly, his tone composed and unhurried. "I've already dealt with it."

The professors' expressions shifted subtly at that. Snape couldn't help but press the matter. "Dealt with? How exactly did you deal with it? Stunned? Driven off? Or… killed?"

"The situation was a bit urgent just now, and for Mr. Potter's safety, I had no choice but to take more extreme measures…" As he spoke, Sargeras gestured toward the floating ball of remains beside him.

The gruesome sight drew several deep frowns, but it at least cleared up the professors' doubts.

Once he saw that they all understood the situation, Sargeras nodded slightly and snapped his fingers toward the ball.

BOOOM~!

A pale white flame burst forth out of thin air. It wrapped around the sphere of remains, and in the blink of an eye, the thing was reduced to ash. A breeze curled through the air in a spiral, catching the last of the ashes and carrying them straight into the toilet bowl—before neatly shutting the lid.

WHOOSH~!

The flush echoed in the silence.

Just like that, the massive troll had been entirely and cleanly dealt with…

It was only now that Professor McGonagall noticed the presence of three young students in the washroom—and to her dismay, they were all from Gryffindor.

"You three… what are you doing here?" she demanded sharply, her voice edged with anger. Her lips had gone pale from fury. She pointed sternly at Ron, who stood closest to her. "Weasley, explain this at once!"

The red-haired boy shuffled forward awkwardly, a dozen excuses flashing through his mind—but none of them felt convincing enough to say out loud.

So he gave up. His shoulders slumped, and he admitted his fault in a small, defeated voice. "Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I…"

"It was me," Hermione cut in, her voice trembling as she stepped forward. "I came looking for the troll. I read about them in books and thought I could handle it… Harry and Ron only came to save me."

Professor McGonagall looked a bit startled. She clearly hadn't expected the usually sensible Miss Granger to act so recklessly.

But after a brief pause, her face hardened again. She turned her gaze back on Hermione and pronounced her judgment, her tone stern and cold.

"Miss Granger, your foolishness has cost Gryffindor five points."

Hermione lowered her head in shame, lips pressed tightly together.

Then Professor McGonagall turned to the two boys and said, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley—when your classmate was faced with danger, you chose to stand up and act. The courage you showed will earn five points each for Gryffindor."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, then broke into wide, gleaming smiles.

"That said, this must not happen again. If something like this occurs in the future, do not try to handle it on your own. You are only first-year students, after all."

"P-Professor McGonagall… is absolutely right," Quirrell stammered in agreement from the side. "Wh-what you did was really, really dangerous…"

Snape shot him a look of contempt.

McGonagall ignored them both. Instead, she turned to Sargeras and made a request. "Sargeras, would you mind escorting these three back to their common room? Just now, Filius told me that a few students were pushed off the moving staircases on their way back from the Great Hall. They're still being treated in the hospital wing…"

Sargeras gave a small nod. "Of course, Professor McGonagall. I'll personally make sure they step safely into the Gryffindor common room."

With that, he turned to the three young wizards and gave a beckoning wave. "Come along, all three of you."

The little trio turned obediently, heads bowed like quails, and silently followed his lead. As they left, Sargeras cast a brief glance at Snape's torn pant leg—his expression didn't flicker in the slightest. He summoned the raven perched atop the stall door with a gentle gesture, and then followed the students out of the bathroom.

On the walk back, not one of them spoke.

The silence was heavy but not uncomfortable; it was clear that none of the three had fully recovered from the night's events. Understandable, really—throwing first-years into a life-and-death encounter with a troll was pushing things a bit far.

Sargeras glanced down at the silent trio beside him, and in an unusually warm tone, took the initiative to speak.

"Cheer up a little. You just stood shoulder to shoulder against a giant… and you all walked away in one piece. That's not something many people can say—it's worth being proud of."

The moment those words landed, all three of them winced. Their faces turned a little red with embarrassment. Thinking back to how they'd actually behaved during the fight… it was hard to feel proud of that.

"Thank you, Professor Greengrass," Hermione said softly, offering him a sincere nod.

Harry and Ron quickly followed suit, bobbing their heads. "Yeah, Professor… we're really grateful you came when you did. If you hadn't…"

Ron trailed off with a visible shiver. The image of the troll's massive arm—moments away from swinging down—flashed again in his mind.

Sargeras simply smiled and shook his head. He pulled out his wand and tapped Harry and Ron each on the shoulder. At once, a warm, soothing energy spread through their bodies. The tension they had been holding in melted away, and their nerves finally began to relax.

"Potter, Mr. Weasley—what you both showed tonight was extraordinary courage. That is a rare quality, and an especially cherished one in Gryffindor," Sargeras said, his tone unusually full of praise.

The compliment made the boys blush. They both scratched the backs of their heads at the same time, embarrassed but quietly pleased.

Then, Sargeras turned to Hermione, who was still a little downcast. He also gave her a gentle tap with the tip of his wand, and posed a question. "Miss Granger, have you ever heard of Amortentia?"

Hermione blinked. She hadn't expected him to ask something like that—but she answered honestly, as always. "Yes, Professor."

And just as she replied, a curious sensation stirred in her. A sudden lift in mood, faint but undeniable. It made her want to add, "I saw it mentioned in our Potions textbook. The description was quite detailed."

Sargeras gave a thoughtful nod. "Amortentia creates the illusion of love, a powerful but entirely false emotion. And yet, there's no potion in this world—none at all—that can create friendship out of thin air…"

His voice was quiet, but steady. "Not even a fake one," he said. "And that, I think, proves just how precious true friendship really is… don't you agree?"

With those words lingering in the air, he gently ushered the three of them through the entrance to the common room.

At the portrait of the Fat Lady, the trio paused and turned to Sargeras once more.

"Thank you again, Professor," they said, nearly in unison.

Hermione even gave a polite little wave to the raven perched on his shoulder. "Goodbye, Mister Raven!"

Noctis completely ignored her.

———————————————————

Late at night, in the Hogwarts library…

Sargeras sat at a table, alone. A thought that had come to him during the evening feast had been growing clearer and clearer in his mind—and now, he was nearly certain of it.

Voldemort wasn't dead.

The man who had once held the entire British wizarding world in the palm of his hand had seemingly vanished, defeated by a baby of all things. No one had seen him since.

Most people believed he was gone. But Sargeras… Sargeras had a different feeling. And deep down, he couldn't shake the sense that his hunch was closer to the truth than anyone else dared to admit.

"I should ask Dumbledore about this during Thursday's tea…" Sargeras murmured to himself, the decision taking root in his mind.

———————————————————

Ever since the Halloween troll incident, Harry and Ron had noticed a change in Hermione.

Or, as Ron put it: "She's suddenly gotten way more likeable."

This bright, book-smart girl had finally learned a valuable lesson—sometimes, being right didn't mean much if you didn't know how to express it. Talking down to people like you were better than them just came off as showing off.

Once Hermione realized that, she slipped easily into the rhythm of the class.

The three of them had gone through a real crisis together, and it was only natural that they'd ended up as friends. It wasn't just because Hermione had taken the blame during the troll incident—though that had certainly helped.

She had also stopped being so uptight about breaking school rules. And honestly? When someone that smart actually wanted to make friends with you, they usually found a way to make it happen.

Right now, the three of them were walking together toward the Quidditch pitch. The first match of the season was coming up at the end of the month, and Harry needed every spare minute to train. Hermione and Ron had come along to cheer him on.

"So what was that spell?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione. She was, after all, the smartest of the three and usually knew far more than the rest of them combined.

"I told you… I don't know, Harry," Hermione sighed, shaking her head helplessly. It was the fourth time they'd asked her the same question.

"I heard the older students love Professor Greengrass's classes…" Ron chimed in, sounding a bit dreamy. "No homework at all, no note-taking, and the weirdest part is… everyone feels like they're way smarter when they're in his class."

"That's because he casts spells on them," came a slow, sneering voice.

Draco Malfoy had arrived, flanked by his usual two cronies. He spoke in that deliberately annoying drawl of his.

"He claims it's all been approved by the Ministry's Department of Magical Education, but Fudge told my father there's no such approval on record at all."

"Oh, right—Fudge is the current Minister for Magic. You knew that, didn't you?"

The golden trio completely ignored the sudden appearance of the Malfoy trio. Ron didn't even look his way as he leaned toward Harry and Hermione and said, in a tone loud enough for Draco to hear, "Would you look at that smug face of his. If you didn't know better, you'd think his dad was the Minister for Magic."

Draco's face darkened. He stepped in front of them, blocking their path, and spat venomously, "Weasley… looks like you're just like your dad. Can't stop sticking your nose into anything Muggle-related…"

He threw a glance at Hermione, standing beside Ron, and continued with a sneer, "If I were you, I'd go home right now. Maybe check if your fat mother's sneaking food in the kitchen again…"

"Don't talk about my mum—" Ron's temper snapped. He lunged forward and grabbed Malfoy by the collar, fist already drawn back.

But before the punch could land, a cold, hollow voice sounded behind them.

"Weasley, five points from Gryffindor for your brawling…"

No one had noticed when Snape arrived, but there he was, standing right behind them—and without a second thought, he docked house points the moment he opened his mouth.

Ron turned scarlet with anger. He glared at Malfoy's smug expression and couldn't help shouting, "That's not fair! He insulted my mum first…!"

"Talking back to a professor—another five points," Snape replied flatly, not even blinking.

Ron looked like he still wanted to argue, but Harry and Hermione quickly stepped in and pulled him away before things could get worse.

As they walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest toward the Quidditch pitch, Ron was still muttering furiously under his breath.

"You shouldn't have stopped me back there…"

"And let Snape keep finding excuses to take even more points from Gryffindor?" Hermione cut him off, sharp and direct.

"But he…"

"I know, Ron. We all know…" Her voice softened. "Malfoy's a nasty little snake. Remember last time? He challenged you to a duel, then ran off and tattled to Filch. We nearly got caught!"

"Well… that just proves you really shouldn't have stopped me," Ron grumbled. His anger was cooling off, but he still wouldn't stop muttering about it.

"If I were as powerful as Professor Greengrass," he huffed, "just one spell—just one!—and I'd shut Malfoy's stinking mouth for good."

Hermione reminded him, "That's not allowed. Even if you were a professor, you still can't cast spells on students whenever you want."

Harry also couldn't help but ask, "Do you think what Malfoy said was true?"

Ron stiffened immediately, his expression tightening, so Harry quickly clarified, "I mean about Professor Greengrass—about how he uses magic on students in class. Malfoy said it wasn't approved by the Ministry."

Ron frowned. "Malfoy's whole family loves twisting the truth. If Professor Greengrass really broke the rules, then why would Headmaster Dumbledore let him keep teaching at Hogwarts like nothing happened?"

Hermione didn't say anything. Truthfully, she thought there might be some truth in what Malfoy had said—but seeing how worked up Ron still was, she decided to keep her thoughts to herself.

Harry, on the other hand, found Ron's logic pretty convincing.

Professor Greengrass had been personally invited back to Hogwarts by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. And Harry trusted Dumbledore. If Dumbledore believed in Greengrass, then his teaching methods had to be acceptable.

"Do you think," Harry said suddenly, "that spell he used on us that night… was one of those?"

He was thinking back to Halloween, when they had been walking toward the Gryffindor common room. Sargeras had tapped each of them lightly with his wand, and right after that, they had all started to feel much better.

"Stop thinking about it," Hermione said briskly. "You need to focus on practice. I bet Wood is already waiting at the pitch…"

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[Chapter End's]

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