Chapter 28: Earthquake

A grim seriousness settled over Evans as he watched the chaos erupt in the Great Hall. The sight of Professor Quirrell, collapsed and unconscious, sent a wave of panic through the student body.

Trolls were brutish, notoriously difficult creatures. Their immense strength could shatter a wizard with a single swipe, and their minds were too dim for reason or negotiation. While defeating one would be simple for him, the castle was vast, and the thought of a student stumbling upon the beast was a chilling one. In such an encounter, their chances of survival were next to none.

Evans's eyes snapped to the head table, meeting Dumbledore's gaze. The Headmaster was already looking at him, a silent understanding passing between them. With a slight tap of his wand to his throat, Dumbledore's profound, sapphire eyes conveyed the command.

Closing his own, Evans let his magic unfurl. A faint, translucent shimmer, like ghostly feathers, manifested behind him. A profound, tranquil aura radiated from his position, washing over the Great Hall. The tide of panic receded, and the students' frantic cries quieted as the calming influence settled their nerves.

Only then did Dumbledore stand, his voice amplified by magic, booming calmly through the hall.

"Professors, you will accompany me to the dungeons. Prefects, lead your students back to their house dormitories immediately."

He dismissed the charm and looked directly at Evans. "Stay and manage the students. Ensure there are no accidents."

As the only other professor who could apparate freely within the castle walls, Evans was the best choice for a rapid response. He could be anywhere in moments.

"Of course," Evans nodded, rising from his seat and striding towards the Great Hall's main doors.

"First years, this way! Form a line, and stay calm," he called, offering the youngest students a reassuring smile. "With so many professors on the hunt, that troll doesn't stand a chance of getting anywhere near you."

Even if it did, he thought grimly, it would likely come for me first. A being of my nature would be a beacon to any dark creature.

His eyes scanned the evacuating first-year lines, and a frown creased his brow. Hermione and Harry were missing. The Weasley boy wasn't there either. Where had they gone?

He turned to the two small creatures at his side. "Alice, Nana. I need you to find them. Find Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The moment you do, let me know." He knelt slightly, his voice firm but urgent. "And if you see the troll… you run. Your safety comes first. Do you understand?"

"Coo!"

Though she trembled slightly, Alice nodded, placing a wing on Nana's shoulder. A flicker of silver light enveloped them, and in an instant, they were gone.

Meanwhile, in a corridor on the first floor, Professor Snape swept past a stone statue, his robes billowing behind him as he hurried towards a staircase. Once he was gone, two heads poked out from behind the statue.

"Why isn't he going to the dungeons with the other teachers?" Harry whispered, watching Snape's retreating figure in confusion.

"How should I know!" Ron hissed back, already creeping out and heading down the opposite corridor. Harry shook off his own confusion and followed. Before he turned away, however, he saw exactly where Snape was headed: the staircase leading to the fourth floor.

As they moved deeper into the corridor, the air grew thick with a putrid stench, a foul mix of unwashed bodies and an overflowing public lavatory. The smell grew stronger with every step, accompanied by a low, grumbling rumble from up ahead.

They followed the sound, cautiously rounding a corner. Harry's eyes widened, his pupils contracting in shock. A monstrous, humanoid creature—a mountain troll—was forcing its massive frame through the doorway of a girls' bathroom. Just as Ron saw it, the beast finally squeezed through with a grunt of effort.

That was the very bathroom Parvati had said Hermione was hiding in.

A moment later, a short, sharp gasp of terror echoed from within.

"Damn it!" Ron cursed, his fear eclipsed by a surge of adrenaline. He charged forward. Harry instinctively tightened his grip on his wand, sprinting right behind him towards the splintered door. Friend or not, they couldn't just leave a classmate to die.

Bursting into the room, they saw the full horror of the scene. Hermione was trapped, her back pressed against the cold, damp wall, her face a mask of pure terror. She held her wand, but the simple first-year jinxes she cast sparked uselessly against the troll's thick, leathery hide, doing no more than tickling it.

"Hey! Ugly!" Ron yelled. He grabbed a loose metal pipe from the floor and smashed it against the wall near the troll's head. The attack did no damage, but the clang was enough to divert its attention.

The troll turned, its brutish face twisting in anger. It swung its massive wooden club, and Ron let out a cry, diving to the side. The club crashed into the row of sinks, shattering porcelain and pipes in an explosion of water and debris.

Seizing the opening, Harry scrambled onto the troll's broad shoulders and began jabbing his wand at its face with wild desperation—nostrils, cheeks, and finally, its eye. The moment his wand sank into the soft tissue of its left eyeball, the creature could no longer ignore him.

It let out a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the bathroom. It thrashed its head violently, flinging Harry to the tiled floor before raising its club high, ready to pulp him.

Harry rolled desperately, the club smashing the spot where he'd been a second before. The troll gave him no time to recover, raising its weapon for another killing blow.

Panic seized Hermione. She saw the club arcing down towards Harry again, and she knew he was in this mess because he had come to save her. She couldn't just stand there.

Is there any way to get its attention? Her mind raced, and her eyes suddenly lit up with a desperate idea.

She raised her hand, and a faint, silvery-white glow pulsed from the skin on its back. The troll, which had been focused entirely on Harry, paused. Its single remaining eye turned a bloodshot red as a line of foul-smelling drool seeped from its mouth. It abandoned Harry completely, its gaze locking onto Hermione, filled with an insatiable, primal greed. It lumbered towards her, club raised.

Hermione's hand, wrapped around her wand, was bone-white. There was no time to hesitate. Professor Kahn's words echoed in her mind.

'Activating it might require you to be in mortal danger…'

She still hadn't mastered the power from the Bull's Might Potion.

Mortal danger? This has to be it.

Forcing down the terror that threatened to paralyze her, Hermione gripped her wand and did the unthinkable: she charged towards the troll.

The creature swung, surprised by her sudden movement. The club whistled past, shattering the stone bricks behind her. But Hermione didn't stop. She ran straight for the monster.

"What are you doing?!" Ron yelled, scrambling to his feet, his jaw dropping in disbelief. At that moment, she didn't remind him of Percy at all. She was more reckless than Fred and George combined.

Ignoring him, Hermione reached the troll's feet. She tapped her wand three times in the air, her movements sharp and precise. Then, closing her eyes with only a single, frantic thought—It has to work!—she stomped her foot down hard against the troll's lower leg.

In that fleeting moment, Ron thought he saw a translucent, spectral horn materialize behind her.

Then, he heard a single, powerful incantation.

"Earthquake!"

CRACK!

A deafening sound, like a boulder splitting in two, ripped through the air. The moment Hermione's foot connected, the troll's massive leg didn't just break; it collapsed, the bones within turned to dust by the sheer force of the impact. The floor beneath it fractured, spiderwebbing outwards from the blow.

Overloaded by a pain its simple mind couldn't comprehend, the troll tipped backward, its head hitting the ground with a sickening thud. It lay motionless. But as it fell, the wooden club flew from its loosened grasp, spinning through the air directly at Harry, who was still trying to get up.

Seeing the projectile, Ron instinctively raised his wand and, in the loudest voice he had ever managed, shouted the incantation he had struggled with for days.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The huge wooden club stopped dead in mid-air, hovering for a few precious seconds before it began to fall again. It was just enough time. Harry scrambled clear, but the thunderous crash he expected never came. He looked back to see the club suspended half a meter from the ground, descending slowly.

Sudden, deliberate applause echoed in the now-silent bathroom.

"An excellent fight."

(End of Chapter)

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