Chapter 29: Collusion

Applause echoed off the shattered tiles. Evans emerged from the shadows, a strange, appraising glint in his eyes as he looked at the three panting young wizards.

He had actually arrived before the battle was even halfway through. Seeing that they weren't in immediate mortal danger, he had chosen not to intervene, curious to see how they would handle the situation.

He had never expected them to actually kill the troll.

In his mind, the best-case scenario was that they would hold out for a bit, learning from the pressure of the troll's assault before he stepped in at the last possible moment. But this… this was something else entirely. Three first-year students, who collectively knew only one offensive spell—and an unpracticed one at that—had defeated a Mountain Troll that even a seasoned adult wizard would struggle against.

Could it be? he mused, a fleeting thought crossing his mind. Are they truly the protagonists of this world?

Shaking his head slightly, Evans tucked his hands into his pockets, his gaze sweeping from the felled troll to the chaotic scene around them.

He was proud of Hermione, the little witch he had personally taught and who helped him with his research, but the performance of the other two had also far exceeded his expectations. Harry had almost instantly identified the troll's head as its weakness. Even without knowing any offensive spells, he had managed to blind one of its eyes through sheer physical grit. Without that action, Hermione's Stomping Charm would never have found its mark. Mountain Trolls might be dim-witted, but their combat instincts were sharp. Under normal circumstances, a creature of its size would never allow a human to get that close.

Ron Weasley's Levitation Charm was also a surprise. Logically, a first-year's magical power and proficiency shouldn't have been nearly enough to halt a wooden club taller than a man. Was it a burst of accidental magic, spurred on by the emergency? Or something else entirely?

After a moment of thought, Evans shook his head and spoke, his voice low and serious. "You may not realize what a feat you've just accomplished."

He let the weight of his words settle. "Although Mountain Trolls are the most common type, that doesn't make them weak. Their incredible strength and magic-resistant hide make them walking war chariots, nearly unstoppable once they charge. Even adult wizards can fall to them if they haven't had proper combat training."

This was no exaggeration. Every year, one or two unlucky souls in the wizarding world met their end at the hands of a troll. It was only because this one had been confined, its movements restricted by the cramped bathroom, that these three had even stood a chance.

Seeing the young wizards flush with a mixture of pride and relief, a slight curve touched Evans's lips. He changed the subject.

"But I must remind you," he said, his tone shifting to one of conspiratorial urgency, "the commotion from that Stomping Charm was not subtle. The other professors will likely be here in about two minutes. I don't care much for school rules, but they might not see things the same way. You will have to explain why you were here."

He leaned against a miraculously intact sink, stroking the feathers of Alice, who had reappeared at his side. He watched the three still-dazed children with genuine interest.

"So now," he declared with a grin, "it's time to collude."

He could, of course, take the fall for them. He could claim it was an impromptu test, a dangerous but controlled lesson. But where was the fun in that? Solving a problem by relying on others was never as memorable as solving it yourself. It was a well-known fact that nothing cemented a revolutionary friendship quite like committing a bit of mischief together.

And huddling together to invent a cover story? That was the very soil in which the seeds of friendship blossomed. He wondered what kind of tale three eleven-year-olds could possibly concoct on such short notice.

Watching them begin to whisper nervously to one another, Evans's smile widened. He was genuinely looking forward to this.

As it turned out, Evans had underestimated the sheer seismic force of Hermione's "Earthquake" charm.

Not two minutes later, but only one, the shaky bathroom door was thrown open. Three professors rushed in, their expressions each more frightening than the last. Professor McGonagall's lips were a thin, pale line, her face a mask of barely contained fury. Professor Snape, his face a thunderous scowl, limped in behind her. And Professor Quirrell…

Well, Quirrell's expression didn't seem directed at the students at all. He glanced at the dead troll, let out a choked, helpless sob, and leaned against the wall, clutching his chest. His reaction was so bizarre it even gave Evans pause. Did Quirrell know this troll?

"What on earth is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall's voice was like ice cracking. She spared Evans only a single, sharp glance before her furious gaze settled on the three students. "A troll! Three first-years, in a room with a troll! Why didn't you evacuate with everyone else?"

The unspoken terror hung in the air: if anything had gone wrong, none of them would have survived.

"It's like this, Professor," Harry said, stepping forward. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. In their rushed planning, they had only managed a bare-bones outline. The details would have to be improvised.

"When Professor Quirrell came into the Great Hall… when he said there was a troll… we remembered that Hermione had gone to the bathroom and hadn't come back."

The idea had been Ron's. Too many Gryffindors had seen them talking before they left, so admitting they had left the group was unavoidable. The best they could do was frame it in a more favorable light.

"We were worried about her," Harry continued, "so we went to look for her. Then… then we saw the troll go into this bathroom, where Hermione was."

"With all due respect," Snape suddenly interjected, his voice dripping with his signature sarcasm. "Are you and Miss Granger on such familiar terms that she feels the need to inform you of her lavatory destinations?"

Ruthless, Evans thought, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. As expected of the great bat of the dungeons. One sentence, a critical hit. Now, how would they patch that hole in their story?

"It's because of me, Professor," Hermione spoke up suddenly. "I saw the troll first. But… I didn't run. I tried to fight it myself."

She took a deep breath. "Professor Kahn taught me an offensive spell, and I've read about trolls. I know their weaknesses. I thought… I thought I might be able to handle it."

"Ron and Harry didn't know where I was at first," she rushed on, "but the sound of my fight must have led them here. And the truth is, if they hadn't come, I never would have defeated it."

She lowered her head, the very picture of a student confessing her foolishness and accepting her punishment. Harry and Ron immediately nodded in agreement.

"This troll… you killed it?" Professor McGonagall was stunned. She looked from the children to Evans, her expression one of utter disbelief. She had assumed Evans had arrived just in time to save them. But their story suggested he hadn't intervened at all.

Her questioning gaze fell on him, and Evans simply shrugged.

"They did," he confirmed. "When I appeared, the beast was already on the ground." It was technically true. He had only revealed himself after the troll had fallen. When he had actually arrived was another matter entirely.

Professor McGonagall hesitated, processing this incredible information. Finally, she spoke, her voice stern.

"Miss Granger, you were exceptionally reckless. For that, Gryffindor will lose five points. Harry, Ron, for leaving the group without permission, you will also lose two points each."

She paused, then her tone softened almost imperceptibly. "However, given that you successfully neutralized a significant threat to the school, I will award each of you five points for your outstanding courage."

A net gain. Clever.

"I will inform the Headmaster," she concluded. "Now, you may return to the feast." She turned and swept out of the bathroom, presumably to arrange for the disposal of the troll's corpse.

Snape gave Evans and the three children one last, deep look before limping out after her. As he turned, the hem of his robe shifted, inadvertently revealing a bloody gash on his leg. Harry, being the closest, caught a glimpse of it.

But he didn't dwell on it. He, Ron, and Hermione left the bathroom together, already recounting the experience in hushed, excited tones. Defeating a monster, then colluding to escape punishment—nothing could forge a friendship faster.

Watching the trio head back towards their common room, a contented smile played on Evans's lips. He scooped up his two small companions, and with a soft shimmer of silver light, vanished.

Only Professor Quirrell remained, still clutching his chest, his body trembling uncontrollably as he stared at the fallen troll.

(End of Chapter)

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