Chapter Nine: Disrupted
The traditional Halloween feast was well underway, the Great Hall full of students enjoying the spread. As usual, the Four were sitting together at the Gryffindor table. By now their housemates mostly ignored them - the Four were simply an exception to established categories, and were generally left to their own devices. This suited them perfectly, of course.
Suddenly the giant double-doors crashed open, and a very disheveled-looking Professor Quirrell staggered in. He ran clumsily to the Head table, then slumped against it in front of Dumbledore.
"Troll!" he said, voice high-pitched and unsteady. "In the dungeons. Thought you ought to know."
With that, he sank to the floor in a dead faint.
There was instant pandemonium, silenced after a few seconds by a shockingly loud firecracker sound from Dumbledore's wand. The students stared at the Headmaster.
"Prefects," he bellowed, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
As the Hall descended into a more purposeful sort of chaos, Ron turned to Hermione.
"Aren't trolls really dangerous? Like, way too dangerous for a couple of prefects to handle?"
She nodded grimly, looking unhappy, then hastily pointed her wand at Ron's throat as she saw him standing up.
"Sonorus!" she muttered.
"WAIT!" yelled Ron. He had raised his voice to carry to the entire Hall unaided, and Hermione's charm made it deafening. The entire Hall fell silent, as teachers and students alike turned to stare at the source of this extremely loud command. Ron swallowed nervously, but stood his ground and addressed the Hall at a more reasonable volume.
"I'm sorry Headmaster, but you're going to get students killed if you do that. There's no way that a couple of prefects can handle a troll, let alone protect a large number of helpless children from a troll. Plus the Slytherin dormitories are in the dungeons where the troll is, so you're sending a quarter of your students straight into the worst danger. And aren't the Hufflepuff dorms somewhere down there as well?"
He paused a moment to catch his breath, and the Hall remained silent. His fellow students were gobsmacked, and even Dumbledore was sufficiently surprised to hear the boy out. Somewhat more calmly, Ron continued.
"Look, why don't we all stay right here in the Great Hall? Well, the students anyway. There's only a few ways in, and the doors are all strong - we should be able to defend the Hall if we have to, and if we're all in here together then the older students can actually keep us safe. Then you can take the teachers out and deal with the troll, and no one has to be in danger. Just leave us some safe way to talk to you."
After a quick muttered "Sonorus!", Hermione added her voice.
"Before anyone goes anywhere, though, we should do a complete headcount and make sure everyone's here - students and staff."
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald, fabled discoverer of the Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood, glared down at the four tiny first-years who were directly and very publicly challenging his authority during an emergency. Deliberately reining in his anger, he forced himself to consider young Weasley's words - no one seemed to be in immediate danger, after all, and a mistake now could leave children dead and their blood on his hands. Dumbledore had borne a great deal of responsibility in his life, and had made his share of costly mistakes. This was not the time, he realised, to be concerned about proper respect for his authority. And so he paused - he asked Minerva McGonagall to take a headcount of everyone in the Hall, and while she went about that he stood in silence for nearly a full minute as he thought about what he should do. Finally he spoke, voice steady and powerful.
"Thank you, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger. Fifty points to Gryffindor for courage, and fifty points for an excellent and timely assessment of the situation. Professor McGonagall is currently conducting a headcount; as soon as we are sure that no one is in immediate danger, we can proceed. Students will remain here in the Great Hall with the doors barricaded, and professors will come with me to deal with the troll."
Dumbledore paused, and gave a crooked smile.
"While myself and the other professors are absent, these four students are in charge here: Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom. Anyone disobeying them will answer to me. Argus, Rubeus - that includes you, I'm afraid. Poppy, please come with me - we may need your skills."
A shocked silence had fallen on the Hall as Dumbledore spoke. Leaving first-years in charge? Maybe the old man really was as crazy as he sometimes seemed. No one was willing to argue with him under the circumstances, though. It would normally be Minerva who would talk him out of a mad idea like this one, but she knew the Four personally and trusted them - she wouldn't argue with Albus this time. Instead she concentrated on the parchment in front of her, tallying students and staff as prefects reported back to her. She scribbled for a few moments more, then turned to Albus.
"Students and staff are all here, Albus - not one missing."
He nodded, then stood up and walked towards the massive double doors, rousing Quirrell with an absent wave of his wand as he walked past him. Voice still amplified, the ancient wizard addressed the Hall one last time.
"I shall place certain protections on these doors once they are closed - further protections I leave to Mr Weasley and his friends."
He handed a small mirror to Ron in passing, canceling the charm on his voice and addressing the boy quietly. "I have its partner - say my name, and a connection will open."
Ron nodded, and the Headmaster strode out of the door at the head of his teaching staff.
The Four headed to the nearly-empty Head Table. Voice still amplified, Ron stood in front of Dumbledore's place and addressed the students.
"First, no one goes near any of the doors without our permission. We're in charge here, which means we're responsible for your safety. If that means having you Stunned to stop you from getting yourself killed, then I'll do it.
"Second, who knows good spells to reinforce the doors? As long as it doesn't somehow hurt us, right now there's no such thing as too much protection."
"Weren't you supposed to do that yourself, Weasley?" yelled an older Slytherin that Ron didn't recognise. Ron shrugged and opened his mouth to answer, and Hermione opened hers to make what would very likely be an angry retort, but Neville stopped each of them with a quiet hand on their shoulders. After a moment, Harry took the lead. A quick glance at Hermione, and his voice was amplified as he turned back to the heckler.
"Look, we've been left in charge. That means the Headmaster trusts our judgement. Obviously we're not the most magically powerful people in the room, let alone more powerful than everyone else here put together. It'd be completely stupid to rely only on our own personal magical strength to defend everyone here. Since we're not completely stupid, we're using the resources we have. If you don't want to help, that's fine - just don't interfere with the people who actually are doing something to help. Alright?"
The older Slytherin looked away and didn't say anything more.
Ron grinned.
"Questions, anyone?"
A number of older students, fairly evenly spread across the non-Slytherin Houses, offered their help. The Four accepted help from most of them, and before long all of the doors were shimmering with power. All doors also had proximity alarms, so there'd be at least some advance warning of any attack. No one needed to be told not to touch the doors now. Now that the immediate pressure was gone, however, the question of authority raised its head in earnest. Until this evening, the Four had been vaguely hoping to avoid serious scrutiny from the student body as a whole. Now they realised that, ready or not, this was their moment to make an impression.
Draco Malfoy was bright enough to keep his mouth shut - he had enough experience of the Four to realise that a confrontation would likely just make him look bad. Octavius Snow, on the other hand, had no such reason for caution. As the pre-eminent figure in 7th-year Slytherin, and a Prefect at that, he was not inclined to respect the authority of a bunch of Gryffindor firsties. He also wasn't one to learn humility from a single embarrassment like the one a few minutes earlier. He stood up and spoke once more, this time addressing the students in general.
"So someone tell me, why exactly are we all in thrall to a handful of firsties?"
The Four exchanged glances, and then Neville cast a quick Sonorus on himself.
"What's your name?"
"Octavius Snow."
Neville moved as if to walk over to the Slytherin table, but Ron held him back gently. After a moment, Neville nodded faintly and then jumped up onto the Head Table. From his new vantage point he had a clear view of Snow, and also of the rest of the Slytherins.
"The first reason, Snow, is that the Headmaster left us in charge. Given the circumstances, I suspect he would take a very dim view of any major disrespect. The second reason is that we are the people who are keeping you from getting killed."
The rest of the Four, meanwhile, jumped up on the Head Table and spread out along its length. Each of them had a wand in each hand - one visible, and one hidden. They had been practising double-casting for weeks now, and they were all expecting spells to start flying any moment. Snow, not realising any of this, sneered at Neville.
"So tell me, boy, what exactly would you do if I were to defy you? Hypothetically speaking, of course."
Neville shrugged expressively, his right-hand wand happening to be conspicuous as he did so.
"Hypothetically speaking, I'd call you a security risk and neutralise you by whatever means necessary. Also, right now I'd like you to put your wand down on the table in front of you."
Snow glared at him. "Kid, you can't make me do that - I'm a prefect."
Neville shifted his stance slightly. Snow was actually sitting quite close, close enough that Neville was confident of hitting him even when firing left-handed from the hip. "Last chance, Snow. Wand on the table, now."
Snow grinned. "Make me."
He knew of the Four as a bunch of firstie swots, beavering away to ultimately earn their OWLs a little sooner. He had no idea of their actual skills, which is why he didn't bother to raise a shield - he was confident he could simply counter any spell directly, and knew that that would make him look much more powerful and dominant than if he simply raised a shield.
Neville twitched his right-hand wand downward slightly.
"Stupefy!"
A jet of red light leapt from his wand - rather weak by the standards of older students, but still impressive coming from a first-year. Snow lazily countered it, then abruptly collapsed unconscious on the table in front of him. Suddenly the Hall was so quiet that Harry's murmured "Accio wand" was clearly audible.
Standing in the middle of the Head Table, voice perfectly steady, Neville addressed the Hall as Harry effortlessly caught Snow's wand and shoved it in a pocket.
"Listen," said Neville, "this isn't a joke. Better understand that right now. The Headmaster gave us a job to do, and we're doing it. If you interfere with that, if you try to mess us up like Snow just did, we will take you down. We won't hurt you if we can help it, and we're not here to punish anyone, but we're not going to let anyone put us all in any more danger than we're already in. And no, I won't tell you which of us took Snow down or how."
He looked towards the Slytherin table, where a few older students were clearly trying to decide whether to revive Snow, and shook his head slightly. "Let him sleep - if we have to take him down when he's actually got proper defences up, he's going to get hurt."
The Slytherins searched Neville's face for any signs of weakness or bluffing, but found none. They backed down. Neville turned back to the Hall at large and went on.
"OK, let's be clear here. We are under attack. All of us. Now is not the time to show everyone how tough you are, unless of course the troll actually gets in here. Mr Snow will be taking a nap until the teachers get back, and will then be explaining himself to the Headmaster. Anyone who tries a similar stunt will join him. Ron, any word from the Headmaster?"
Ron, standing further along the table and holding their communication mirror, nodded.
"Spoke to him a moment ago - they've found the troll and are about to take it down."
Neville nodded, and turned his attention back to the Hall at large.
"OK, so we shouldn't be here too much longer. Just stay in your seats, all of you, and talk amongst yourselves."
He and Harry levitated Snow's unconscious body onto the Head Table, and then stood at either end of the table and watched over the Hall. Hermione kept an eye on the doors and Ron watched Snow, until the teachers returned a few minutes later. The Headmaster and Professor Flitwick between them took down the protections on the main doors, though it did take them nearly a full minute to do so.
The Headmaster praised the Four warmly, but broke off abruptly when he noticed Snow's inert form on the table.
"Mr Weasley, why exactly is one of my prefects lying unconscious on the table?"
Ron gestured towards Neville, who calmly answered.
"He challenged us, sir. Asked what we'd do if he defied us, called me 'boy' and 'kid', and refused to lay down his wand when I told him to. When he still refused the second time I asked, we took him down and confiscated his wand - Harry has it now."
Dumbledore looked intrigued. "Ah, delightfully unexpected. Well done then, all of you."
The Headmaster raised his voice to address the Hall at large.
"The danger has passed. Please continue with the feast. Weasley, Longbottom, Potter, Granger, please come with me."
The unconscious Slytherin floated along behind Dumbledore as he strode out of the Hall, with the Four scurrying to catch up. Shortly they found themselves in his office, where the ancient wizard woke Snow with a negligent wave of his wand.
