A troll?
Yes, a troll!
Sean's memory clicked—Harry, Ron, and Hermione's friendship was forged battling this very creature.
He glanced at Quirrell, sprawled on the floor, his panic laughably overdone. Was Dumbledore fooled? Unlikely. The headmaster probably saw through it, biding his time to draw the double-faced fiend out. Sean doubted the Philosopher's Stone was truly at risk—without Harry's involvement, Quirrell would face Dumbledore's wrath firsthand.
"Hiss…"
At the Slytherin table, first-years screamed at "troll," collapsing in panic. Sean sat still, stroking Kulkan, who slithered from his collar. When he paused, the snake nudged his face, annoyed.
A realization struck.
Sean had tamed Kulkan through a duel, using the power of the panel. His dueling ability wasn't limited to wizards—it extended to any magical creature with a spark of intelligence.
Could he duel the troll?
What ability might he gain? Surely not its dull wits or revolting stench.
Dumbledore's voice boomed, ordering prefects to escort students to their common rooms. Sean scoffed—Dumbledore was giving the Stone's thief a window, not blundering. Guarding the Great Hall would protect most students; teachers could hunt the troll or find stragglers. Scattering everyone was deliberate.
Students surged toward their common rooms, believing safety lay in familiar walls and warm beds.
Chaos erupted as young wizards jostled to flee. Prefects shouted for order, but slipping away was easy.
Sean eyed the Gryffindors leaving ahead of Slytherin. Harry and Ron were likely already moving. He hoped they hadn't reached the troll yet—arriving after it was defeated would waste his gamble.
Risking house points demanded a reward.
The Great Hall sat on the first floor; Slytherin's common room lurked in the dungeons. As the group descended the dark stone stairs, Sean darted from the line, sprinting toward where Harry and Ron had gone.
The troll—and Hermione—were in a girls' bathroom, likely on the second floor.
A foul stench hit him before he reached the landing, like rotting refuse baked in summer heat. He'd found the place.
Roars and screams echoed from the bathroom ahead. Sean charged in.
The troll loomed, grotesque and hulking, gripping Harry's leg with one hand, swinging a massive club toward him with the other. Hermione lay crumpled, screaming. Ron stood frozen, wand limp.
Given time, Ron might cast the spell that felled the troll in the stories. But Sean couldn't risk his presence altering fate—he needed this duel before Ron acted.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Sean aimed to levitate the troll's club, but its wild swings defied his focus. How had Ron ever aimed true?
"Petrificus Totalus!"
He tried petrifying the troll's arm, but its magic resistance shrugged off his LV1 spell, the club barely slowing.
"Ron! Sean! Think of a solution!" Harry yelled, dangling helplessly.
Ron's eyes lit up, raising his wand. Sean's pulse raced—Ron was about to take the lead.
No time to lose.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Sean shifted targets, levitating debris—shattered doors, splintered walls. Wood and stone pummeled the troll, enraging it. With a roar, it hurled Harry aside and lumbered toward Sean, club raised.
The troll's charge brought a suffocating pressure, both mental and physical. Sean dodged, casting "Protego!" A blue shimmer blocked the club's blow.
He followed with "Herbivicus!" Thorny vines sprouted, snaring the troll's legs. Sean darted aside, drawing its pursuit.
The troll's dull wits ignored the vines, snapping them as it chased. But the tangle tripped it, sending it crashing down.
Seizing the moment, Sean levitated the slipping club, hoisted it high, and smashed it onto the troll's skull with a sickening crunch.
Bang!Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang....
The troll's pained wails echoed from the girls' bathroom, punctuated by rhythmic thuds.
Snape and McGonagall, tracking the creature's stench, hastened toward the noise. They burst into the bathroom, freezing at the sight before them.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled in a corner, dazed and disheveled. Sean stood calmly, wielding Wingardium Leviosa to batter the troll's head and body with its own club, the beast ensnared in thorny vines from Herbivicus.
The troll, battered beyond resistance, whimpered weakly, its face a mess of bruises and blood. Even Snape and McGonagall, seasoned as they were, felt a pang of pity for the creature's plight.
McGonagall's initial fury—at students defying orders to hunt a troll—faltered. Her emotions churned, caught between outrage and disbelief at the scene.
"Mr. Bulstrode, please stop. This troll has no ability to resist."
"Really?" Sean glanced at her, skeptical. "But it was terrifying earlier. It might be pretending."
"Trust me, Mr. Bulstrode," McGonagall said firmly. "A troll's mind lacks the cunning to feign. You've subdued it—stop now."
Dumbledore and Flitwick arrived, their eyes widening at the sobbing troll and Sean's unflinching stance. The scene felt oddly surreal, yet the outcome was clear: the troll was defeated, the students unharmed.
McGonagall regained her composure, her gaze hardening on Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Sean. "The professors ordered you to your common rooms. Why did you come here? You're lucky to be alive!"
She paused, the troll's fate undermining her rebuke.
"Professor McGonagall…" Hermione stepped forward, voice trembling. "It's my fault. I read about trolls and thought I could handle one, but I was wrong. If Harry, Ron, and Sean hadn't come for me…"
She sobbed. "They saved me. Harry jabbed his wand in the troll's nose, and it grabbed him. Ron shielded me. Sean… he defeated it."
McGonagall's anger softened. She admired Hermione's brilliance and saw echoes of her own youth in the girl's zeal. Still, discipline demanded consequences.
"Miss Granger, how could you, a reckless girl, think you could face a troll alone? Books aren't reality. Five points from Gryffindor for your actions."
She eyed Harry, Ron, and Sean, weighing further deductions.
Dumbledore intervened. "Minerva, don't be too severe. Harshness teaches, but these children have learned their lesson, haven't they?"
He turned to Harry and Ron. "Their courage in protecting a friend, facing a troll, deserves recognition. Five points each to Gryffindor."
Dumbledore's wink to Harry sparked a smile, but Snape cut in sharply.
"Dumbledore, Sean defeated this troll!" His voice carried rare irritation.
"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore replied, unfazed. "Sean's victory is clear, but Harry and Ron's undeniable efforts matter too, don't they?"
Snape's sneer spoke volumes—Dumbledore's Gryffindor bias, especially for Harry, was no secret.
Dumbledore faced Sean, his smile warm. "Sean, defeating a troll as a first-year is remarkable. Ten points to Slytherin, but don't see this as encouragement. Next time, heed the professors and seek safety."
"I'll remember that. Thank you, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded. "Severus, Minerva, escort your students back. We'll handle this."
McGonagall complied, and Snape led Sean away.
Outside, Snape's voice, laced with anger, rang clear. "Sean Bulstrode, next time, act like a shrewd Slytherin, not a reckless Gryffindor. Understood?"
"I understand, Professor. I'm sorry for troubling you."
"Troubling?" Snape scoffed. "Don't assume I worry, boy. I only care that you don't cost Slytherin points and jeopardize our seventh House Cup!"