Dylan was left speechless by these little brats.
He couldn't help but think back to his own childhood—had he been like Ron and the others, always looking for trouble?
After a moment's thought, he shook his head.
That time felt so long ago. He had lived two lifetimes already, and his memories of childhood had faded.
Just as this thought passed, the group arrived at the auditorium.
His seat wasn't even warm when—
Bang!
The doors flew open, and Quirrell rushed in, his face pale with horror.
"Troll! In the basement classroom—there's a troll! A troll!"
Dylan continued eating his lamb chops, barely reacting to Quirrell's sudden entrance.
Harry, however, who was sitting next to him, nearly choked on a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
"Cough! Cough!"
Dylan casually handed him a glass of milk.
Harry took it, gulping it down with gratitude.
Once he had calmed, they noticed the change in the atmosphere.
The once lively and cheerful little wizards now sat frozen in fear, some even screaming.
Even the older students, though calmer, were visibly unsettled. Many of them scrambled to grab their wands.
Chaos erupted in the auditorium.
No one paid attention to Quirrell, who had collapsed to the ground.
"Calm down!"
Suddenly, a brilliant purple firework exploded above the hall.
Dumbledore's booming voice echoed throughout the space, cutting through the panic.
"Wow, that Sonorus spell was cast perfectly!"
Dylan was impressed.
He had studied the Sonorus spell himself, among many others.
Not because he wanted to be greedy, but because he had already mastered six high-level Dark Arts spells. Their principles helped him understand other forms of magic with ease.
As a result, he could learn spells quickly, achieving at least a basic proficiency without spending excessive time studying them.
Even if he didn't immediately master a spell, he would at least reach a proficiency level between one and four.
In other words, every spell he learned became part of his arsenal, no matter the skill level.
Some might say he was a jack of all trades, master of none.
He would argue he was a master of everything—or at least knew enough to be dangerous.
Spells often shared similarities, so learning one often led to breakthroughs in others.
Dylan continued analyzing Dumbledore's casting.
"Hmm… This must be at least level eight proficiency. The voice is grand, yet smooth and pleasant, without any noise or harshness."
Meanwhile, Percy Weasley was doing his best to maintain order.
"Prefects! Take your students back to their dormitories!" Dumbledore commanded.
Percy hurried among the first-year Gryffindors, trying to herd them like a flock of panicked sheep.
"Come on, stop eating, you!" he scolded. "Hey! I'm talking to you! Put that Witch Worm Puff down and catch up with the team!"
"And you—what are you eating? Screaming Pickled Tongue Snails? That's too spicy! You're too young for that! Get up and move!"
Under his leadership, the first-years were soon ushered out of the hall.
Halfway through the corridors, Harry and Ron slowed down and pushed toward Dylan.
Both of them looked worried.
"There's a troll in the school! Oh my God, this is unbelievable!"
Harry's voice was a mix of disbelief and concern.
Ron's face paled.
"And Hermione didn't come to dinner just now… Could she not know about the troll?"
Dylan paused.
"Well… I guess she wouldn't know."
Obviously! They had just learned about it themselves. How could Hermione possibly know?
Harry stared.
Ron, now panicking, dropped all awkwardness.
"We have to go find her!"
Dylan's eyes flickered.
If he went now, he might run into the professors.
But if he followed Harry and Ron…
"Forget it. If worse comes to worst, I'll just use Avada Kedavra and make it look harmless."
He had already modified the visual effect of the spell, turning it into pink starlight particles.
Even if Harry and the others saw him cast it, they wouldn't recognize the spell.
Even if a professor arrived later, they wouldn't be able to determine what spell had been used.
Dark magic left no traces in his hands.
Even if Harry reported the incident, no one would be able to prove anything.
"We have to find Hermione!" Harry said firmly.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Ron grabbed Dylan's wrist, pulling him along.
Dylan: "…"
I haven't even said yes yet!
Still, he took the opportunity. Troll materials could be useful.
So, without further hesitation, he let himself be dragged along.
"It's a pity my system doesn't allow pet taming."
Dylan sighed at the thought.
Meanwhile, Harry was already leading the way.
"Go that way."
"Where is that?" Dylan asked.
"I don't know." Harry's eyes darted around as he ran.
"…"
They didn't even have a plan.
Suddenly, Harry skidded to a stop.
"Someone's coming! Hide!"
He darted behind a corner, yanking Dylan into the shadows.
Ron followed, moving with a fluidity that suggested experience.
Dylan smacked his lips.
"These two have clearly done this before."
Peeking out, he saw a dark figure gliding through the corridor.
"It looks like Professor Snape."
They waited in silence until the footsteps faded.
Ron exhaled.
"Where do we find Hermione?"
"I heard she was crying in the bathroom earlier," Ron whispered.
Harry nodded.
"Then let's go check."
Dylan pulled out his wand.
"Disillusionment Charm!"
A shower of pink starlight particles surrounded him.
Though his spell proficiency wasn't at the level of Dumbledore or Voldemort—who could turn invisible without an Invisibility Cloak—his magic was strong enough to fool the younger students.
When the light faded, Harry and Ron gaped at him.
"Dylan, you…!"
(End of Chapter)
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