Chapter 9: Traveling with Trolls

A portrait cleared its throat, and Albus looked up. "Ah, Everard. Good evening. And how is young Harry doing?"

Everard gazed at him innocently from his painting, fiddling around with his wand before he spoke. "He's well enough, I suppose, Dumbledore," he said lazily, though Albus could tell, as always, just how careful Everard was with his speech. "Healthy, excited for Halloween. He's as normal as any of the other students, and he's doing reasonably well in classes, though he's no genius."

Dumbledore heard Phineas made a derisive noise from the other end of the room. "He's very different from his parent's isn't he? They were some of the brightest students to ever come to this school. That curse probably addled his brains."

Albus chose not to comment, for he knew very well that magical or mental ability did not always surface when people expected it. Rather, more often, it surpassed any expectations when it was least anticipated.

'We will just have to wait and see,' Albus decided. He believed that Harry would be a great wizard yet, though it might not ever show in a classroom. Instead, he asked, "Anything unusual today?"

Everard gave a neat shrug, examining the background of his own canvas. This, of course, meant that he had something to report, but wondered how to say it. "His class finally started levitation in Charms."

"That's the class he has with the Ravenclaws, I believe," Albus encouraged, nodding.

Everard looked up, and there was a hint of pride in his voice. "Yes, the Ravenclaws were all there, but the first one to get the charm right was that Hermione Granger. A Gryffindor, I believe." He looked around at the assorted portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses expectantly, and was rewarded with soft cheers and exclamations of pride from previous Gryffindors and noises of skepticism and dismissal from previous Ravenclaws.

Albus sighed, all too used to 'My house is better than yours' act. "Was there anything else, Everard?" Albus asked pointedly.

Everard raised his eyebrows. "Oh, young Potter managed it too, eventually, never fear, Dumbledore."

Albus waited expectantly, and Everard finally continued.

"But I think you ought to give some serious thought to the people that boy has around him as his friends," Everard added in an offhand sort of voice.

"Just what do you mean by that, Everard?"

"It's just that that Weasley boy is awfully careless about the remarks that come out of his mouth," Everard said, and Albus could sense his disgust and concern for one who was so lenient with words to know when to hold his tongue.

"What did he say? Did he offend someone?"

"No, he made a rather rude comment about that Granger girl."

"Big deal, what did he do, mention her muggle parentage?" Phineas asked from beside him. Phineas could never quite understand why Everard might find such a thing rude.

"Not at all," Everard replied, affecting unconcern. "That would be rather… un-Gryffindorish of him, wouldn't it? No, he simply called her a know-it-all and said it was no wonder she didn't have any friends."

Albus sat up. "And what did Harry do? Did he say anything?"

Everard, he could tell, was quite amused by how intent he was. "Well, he didn't chew him out about what the Weasley boy said, if that's what you're looking for," he commented. He paused to see if Albus' expression would change. When it didn't, he continued, "But once that Granger girl had run off in tears, he did look as though he felt rather guilty about it. Potter made some awkward comment to Weasley about how she'd heard him. The boy isn't terribly gifted with words, Dumbledore."

"P-P-Professor D-D-D-Dumbledore."

The portraits feigned sleep on cue like they always did when someone entered the room.

Albus looked around to see Professor Quirrell smiling nervously at him from the doorway. "Good evening, Quirenius. I must apologize, I didn't hear you come in." He smiled kindly over his spectacles. "Is there something the matter?"

Quirrell let out a high-pitched laugh. "Oh, n-no not-nothing, Albus," he stuttered as he began wringing his hands together nervously. "It's j-just that S-S-Severus s-sent me t-to get you. It's t-t-time for the H-H-Halloween f-feast."

Albus glanced at his watch. "So it is. Lost track of the time again. Shall we go down to the Great Hall together then?"

"Y-yes, indeed, P-professor."

But as soon as they had descended the spiral staircase and emerged from behind the gargoyle that guarded Albus' office, Quirrel gave a little start. "Oh, I—I f-f-forgot something in m-my o-o-office, Albus. I'll m-m-m-meet you d-down there in a b-b-bit."

Albus smiled thoughtfully at him. "Very well, Quirenius, but don't be too long. I know for a fact that the house elves have outdone themselves for this particular feast. I wouldn't want you to miss it."

"C-c-certainly n-not, headmaster," Quirrell's lips twitched in a tense smile before he hurried away.

Humming to himself, Albus continued down the corridor until he came upon Peeves grinning wickedly as he floated over a couple of first-year Hufflepuffs, pelting them with walking bits of chalk that he'd nicked from a classroom. One of the girls, squealed and ducked around a statue of the humpback witch to avoid the chalk.

"Ickle firsties, what fun! Happy Halloween from Peevesie, treats and tricksies! WEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Peeves," Albus called scolding.

The poltergeist was so startled to see the headmaster strolling down the hall that he nearly fell out of the air. "Good evening, Professorhead, sir," he said in the oily voice that he always adopted when he was addressing to the headmaster.

"Good evening, Peeves. You're having a pleasant Halloween, I trust?" Albus said pleasantly but there was a hint of rebuke in his tone. "However, I must ask you to allow my students to pass. I also believe that there is a classroom that is missing some chalk?"

"Oh, yes, Professorhead. Of course, your Headness, sir. I was just borrowing them, you see, but I'll return them right away, sir."

"Off you go, then. And Peeves?"

"Yes, Dumbly-diddly-dore?" Peeves asked, half-upside-down as he retrieved the chalk.

"As long as you're planning your Halloween jokes, remember that if you try to set fire to the Great Hall, you'll automatically be expelled from the castle. We don't need a repeat of what happened last time."

"I remember, Professorhead, sir," Peeves said, looking rather disgruntled, before he blew a loud raspberry and zoomed backward down the hall, shouting out a loud crud song.

Albus turned to the cowering students, one of whom murmured a barely audible thanks. "Well, now that that's settled, would you three accompany me to the Great Hall? I don't think it would be very wise to miss one of the greatest celebrations Hogwarts holds during the school year," he said, smiling as they fell into step behind him. "You know, our gamekeeper, Hagrid, spent the entire year growing the pumpkins to provide the Great Hall with its wonderful jack-o-lanterns just for tonight."

The first-years were too timid to respond, and could only nod in embarrassment. They looked relieved when they reached the doors to the Great Hall, and went scurrying off to the Hufflepuff table. Dumbledore chuckled as he swept up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables up to the high table where Minerva was looking at him disapprovingly, no doubt for being late.

"Good evening, Minerva," he said as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

"You're late, Albus."

"Ah, but it's such a nice evening for a fashionably late entrance. Now I'll go ahead and start the feast, shall I?" With a smile at her thin-lipped expression, he stood to say a few words and gave the signal to the house elves to send the food up.

As he helped himself to some of the potatoes, Albus glanced over at the Gryffindor table. He could see them all laughing and enjoying themselves—and the Weasley twins had their heads together. They seemed to be obsessed over an old piece of parchment, until George tapped the parchment discreetly before carefully folding it up, as if it were a priceless artifact, and put it away. Albus wondered if he should be expecting any mischief from them in the next couple of days.

A little way down from them sat Harry and Ron. Harry looked as though he were having the time of his life, which made Albus think that the Dursleys must not have celebrated Halloween very often or very boisterously. Perhaps it had something to do with Halloween being a wizard's holiday.

He then noticed for the first time that Hermione Granger was missing from the group of first-years. Harry must've noticed this as well because he looked at Hermione's empty seat and began talking to Ron, who immediately began to look guilty about something.

Dumbledore was about to point this out to Minerva when the great double doors that led out to the Entrance Hall suddenly burst open, spilling forth a nearly hysterical Professor Quirrell. He ran through the Hall and up to the high table. "T-troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know…" Quirenius managed to spit out before he sank away in a dead faint.

'What on earth was Quirenius doing in the dungeons?' was the only thing Albus was able to think of before the chaos of the students overwhelmed everything.

"Silence," Albus called, making himself heard above the din. As if all the students had been stricken dumb, the room went deathly quiet. He calmly directed the students to return to their dormitories, and began organizing the teachers to search the castle. "Poppy, will you see that Professor Quirrell is all right?" he asked the healer before turning to the other teachers, "Now, the rest of you will follow me to the dungeons. Except you, Minerva. I'd like you make sure there are no stragglers in the hallways, and we'll be needing someone to make sure the troll hasn't made its way upstairs. Follow me, now," he called to them, and was glad to see them all draw their wands.

As they passed through the Entrance Hall, Albus eyed Everard craning his neck in one of the picture frames to catch a glimpse of him. A slight nod from him, and Everard was off to keep an eye on Harry. "Spread out in twos and threes," Albus directed. "A troll won't be too hard to deal with, but I want you all ready."

It took Albus perhaps fifteen minutes to realize that there weren't any signs of a troll in any part of the dungeons. When he came to this conclusion, he left their furious caretaker with Professors Vector and Flitwick and proceeded back up to the Entrance Hall to find Minerva.

He wasn't pleased to see that he found she'd left her post—that is until he heard the banging and the crashing overhead.

"DUMBLEDORE!" shouted Everard's voice from the picture of drunken monks on his right. "You better head up to the girls bathroom on the second floor! The troll's there! Potter, Weasley, and the Granger girl…" he cried.

But Dumbledore set off as soon as he heard the words 'second floor'. When Albus reached the girls' bathroom on the second floor, it was to see Harry and Ron's retreating backs disappearing around a corner.

"We should have gotten more than ten points," he managed to hear Ron say.

"Five, you mean," he heard Harry reply. "Once she's taken off Hermione's."

"It was good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron said. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," was all he could hear Harry say before they were out of his sight.

Wondering what on earth had happened here, he entered the bathroom to find the troll, out cold on the floor and Minerva and Severus in the middle of a heated argument in the doorway.

"They were out of bounds," Severus insisted. "They were lucky they weren't killed, and if they'd been any more irresponsible…"

"I already took points from Miss Granger for that, Severus! Potter and Weasley showed great courage in coming to the rescue of a fellow student, as ill-advised as the venture might have been." Minerva's nostrils were positively flaring in indignation.

"Perhaps I might interrupt for a moment to ask what happened?" Albus interrupted. They both jumped to see the Headmaster standing in the doorway. Snape recovered first.

"Potter and Weasley took it into their heads to go after the troll. I suppose they thought they could take it on themselves," Severus said gruffly.

"From what Miss Granger says, it was she who did that, and Potter and Weasley were coming to her aid. It seems that it was bad luck they came upon the troll"—Severus snorted, and Dumbledore was fighting to keep himself from rolling his eyes—"but they handled the situation very well indeed." Minerva looked at Albus defiantly. "According to Miss Granger, Potter stuck his wand up its nose and Weasley knocked it out with its own club. I took five points from Granger, but gave five each to Potter and Weasley."

"Well, I won't argue with that," Albus mused.

"P-p-professor D-d-d-dumbledore," came a quivering voice, and Albus was amazed to see Quirenius, none the worse for his fainting spell, quaking nervously in one of the bathroom's corners. "I'm t-t-terr-rribly s-sorry," he stammered. "It s-s-seems the t-troll left th-the d-d-dungeons af-after I c-came to t-tell y-y-you."

Albus frowned slightly as he considered his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "It seems that way. You don't look so well, Quirenius. Perhaps you ought to go and see Madame Pomfrey?"

"N-no, I'm q-quite alright, P-p-professor," Quirrell muttered, going paler still. "B-but p-perhaps if I g-g-g-go lie d-down for a b-b-bit."

"Yes, yes, get some rest," Albus said, nodding. "I'll call Hagrid and the other teachers to dispose of this—er—" he motioned to the troll laying on the floor "—creature."

Quirrell departed in a hurry, and Minerva excused herself to go and look in on her students in Gryffindor. Severus, however, lingered. "I'd like a word with you, Headmaster."

"I was just about to suggest as much," Albus said pleasantly. "If you'll just follow me to my office, then, I think its best we have this conversation away from prying ears." Snape nodded abruptly and limped behind him.

Once they were in Dumbledore's office, Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Albus interrupted before he could begin.

"You're bleeding, Severus."

The potions master grimaced and looked down at his leg. "I'll deal with it later. Right now I need to talk to you about Quirrell."

"What is it about Quirenius that you feel so uneasy about, Severus?"

"That troll was a diversion," he answered bluntly.

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I thought that's what it was. But for what, do you think?"

"For someone to get a look at what's guarding the Stone," was Snape's answer.

Albus was silent for several minutes, gazing intently at Severus. In the first few seconds, Severus let his habitual guard down enough for Albus to see, through legilimency, an image of Quirrell opening the door to the third-floor corridor, and Snape being bitten by one of Fluffy's three heads. "You don't trust Quirenius," he said softly.

Severus shook his head.

He sighed, coming to a conclusion that was very sobering indeed to consider. It so happened that, after seeing Quirrell's odd behavior ever since he arrived at the castle, and especially tonight, Albus was finding it difficult to trust him himself. However, there were immense difficulties in dealing with the problem. Not the least was the fact that Albus had finally hunted down the whereabouts of the dark presence that had hidden out in Albania. The answers pointed right into Hogwarts itself, to the very man Albus had hired to protect the school against such a force.

Things were dangerous indeed. So far, it was only a simple masquerade. Quirrell was content to lie low and teach while he figured out exactly how to get to the Stone. But there was still pressure to act soon. While Albus was fairly confident that he'd never get to it (even if he managed to get past all the other teachers' protective spells, there was still the trick Albus himself intended to employ sometime over the Christmas holidays), he'd rather Quirenius didn't try. But on the other hand…

"Severus, you of all people should believe in second chances. There is no proof that Quirenius is after the Stone. Upon awakening from his faint, he might just have wanted to be sure that everything was still as it should be."

"But, Professor," Severus said, and Albus could sense the righteous anger behind his voice. He'd seen Quirrell, hadn't he? Then, his emotions were mastered again, his mind as blank to the casual observer as always. "I can't trust Quirrell, Headmaster, but if you insist on doing so, I won't speak against him."

"Thank you, Severus," Albus said quietly, "I'm not saying that we can trust him. But we must keep a much closer eye of him from now on."

Grudgingly, Severus nodded and excused himself. Albus knew, as he watched Severus disappear down the spiraling staircase, that Quirrell was every bit as guilty as Severus said. He also knew that Severus would never understand why Albus did not simply fire Quirrell. The situation was a lot more dangerous that Severus realized. Albus did not know the full extent of the danger himself, but knew enough not to act hastily.

Even before Albus had found the truth about Quirenius, there had been far too many coincidences. The disappearance of the dark force in the forests of Albania corresponded too neatly with Quirrell's trip there. Then there was the conversation Nicholas had with the hooded stranger regarding the Stone not long before Quirrell arrived at school.

Albus frowned worriedly as he stroked Fawkes. There was another matter to consider: Quirrell might well be under the Imperius Curse, or something else that hindered his ability to act for himself. It might not be accident that Quirenius had come back from his year off with a stutter and a mortal fear of anything scarier than a hairbrush.

And Albus would resign as Headmaster before he allowed any of the teachers or students to be harmed unnecessarily. It was early in the year yet, and the Stone hadn't even been put in its planned place. Quirrell might not have known it, but he wouldn't have gotten anything even if he'd made it past Fluffy and all the other obstacles. Surely there had to be some way to protect everyone and everything. If he could only think of it…

There was the dignified sound of a throat clearing, and Albus looked up.

Everard raised an eyebrow at him from his portrait. "About time you noticed me, headmaster," he said as he sat back comfortably.

"Ah, Everard, I hope that you can forgive me for taking off like that. But…" Dumbledore began.

"No, no, I understand," Everard said. "You wanted to get to the troll. I just thought that you wanted to know what happened with Potter and Weasley."

"Oh? Did you see what happened?" Albus asked quickly.

"Yes and no," Everard said. "I was watching Potter like you wanted me to do. But he then pulled the Weasley boy aside and told him about the Granger girl not knowing about the troll."

"Really?" Albus asked interested. "What happened?"

"Well, he told Weasley that they needed to warn Granger about the troll and they snuck away. I followed them to the second floor and that's when they ran into the troll."

"And did they try to fight it?" Dumbledore asked intently.

"Not yet," Everard said. "They both hid when the troll came into view. When it went into the bathroom, they locked it in. But as they walked away, there was a scream. It turns out that they accidently locked the troll in with Granger."

A few of the portraits were shaking their heads while Armando Dippet let out a cry of incredulity. "Well," said Phineas slyly. "Isn't that ironic?"

"What happened then?" Albus asked, ignoring Phineas.

"What else?" Everard said. "They went back and went to help the girl. You know that there aren't any paintings in the bathroom Dumbledore so I couldn't see what happened in there. But after a few loud crashes and bangs, the teachers came down the corrider. And that's around the time that I went to go and find you."

Dumbledore was amazed at first. A mountain troll was definitely not what he had planned for testing Harry, but this proved that the boy was not only brave but also resourceful and cared about the safety of others.

"Also, I thought you might want to know that Potter and Weasley are in their dormitory finishing off the Halloween feast," Everard said with an air of self-satisfaction, "With Hermione Granger."

There were several whispers among the portraits. "Indeed?" Albus asked.

"Yes. I guess that you just can't stay angry after fighting a mountain troll together. And with nothing else to do, it seems they've become friends."

Albus chuckled, feeling his heart go a bit lighter at this news. "Excellent. Harry needs another friend like Miss Granger. I can see now that he's a bit reckless, and needs someone with a level-head at his side."

Everard blinked impassively at him. "Something the matter with your eyes, Dumbledore? They've shining."

(Hey there. I hoped that you all enjoyed this chapter. For the next chapter, should I write about the Quidditch match? Or just skip over to Christmas? Please review)