Trolling Logically

The scene that presented itself to the professors when they finally arrived was one that was more or less easy to put together: if nothing else the position of the older Ravenclaw student spoke of how he had placed himself between the three first-year Gryffindors and the troll.

Of course, some questions of circumstance would be needed to clarify just how this particular group of children had found itself contending with the grey-skinned creature when everyone had received clear orders to return to their Common Rooms, as well as to make sure that the older student was the one responsible for the humongous black and green snake that was staring at the group of youngsters with yellow eyes that glinted almost angrily?

Soon enough the professors, which had by some strange coincidence managed to reach the group of wayward kids unnoticed, heard the older student speak with a tone of command while his finger was pointing at the giant reptile: "..Tell it to backflip."

The relief that had washed over the teachers at seeing the group relatively safe and the threat handled turned into a surreal confusion: What?

At the weirded-out glance he received by none other than Harry Potter, the Ravenclaw student sighed in annoyance: "C'mon, I just spared you the experience of being turned into mushy pancakes, tell it to backflip, and we're even."

Mr. Potter, glancing between the snake and the older student, opened his mouth and spoke: a garbled, creepy, and uncomfortable wheezing sound left his mouth then, traveling through the air almost as a knife cutting paper to prove its sharpness.

The gasp of one Minerva McGonagall, supported by the squeak of surprise of Filius Flitwick, and an almost strangled grunt from Severus Snape, along with the other teachers' reactions, were all drowned under the snake's powerfully hissed answer. Ignoring the absurdity of the situation for one instant, that surely sounded like a 'no'.

Nevermind that the black and green scaly monster had reared up, its eyes unnervingly focusing on the wizard who had just, by the looks of it, commanded it to perform something so undignified.

A startled wheeze was the only thing that left the lips of one Quirinus Quirrel, his face blanching unnaturally at the sight of the reptile, his features looking almost gaunt under the purple turban he wore.

McGonagall's wand whipped into the air so fast that the snake didn't even realize it no longer existed: the vanishing taking place in the space of a split second, but by the time the children had become aware of the professors' presence, she was already berating them, a slight Scottish blur coloring a few of her chosen words.

Blanching even more than they already were, the first years stammered together pieces of an explanation that lacked both a head and a tail, while the older student seemed to simply stop paying attention to his surroundings, his gaze slightly unfocused as he looked where the reptile had disappeared from.

The Transfiguration professor was just starting to make sense of the events when the Ravenclaw turned again towards Harry Potter, apparently completely unaware of the gravity of the situation: "Did you ask it to backflip, or order it?"

"Mr. Diggory!" the squeaky voice of Filius Flitwick managed to grab the attention of the air-headed student long enough for him to land his eyes on the teachers, "While I can appreciate your passion for learning, this is not the time."

Blinking owlishly, the student seemed to actually focus, for the first time, on what was currently going on. But even while doing so he ignored the incensed McGonagall, which temporarily lacked words to reprimand the sheer gall of the 4th year that had dared interrupt her: "If I learned only when others deemed it appropriate, I would be a rather poor wizard, I reckon."

"Nevertheless," his Head of House cut in before any other professor could start tearing points from Ravenclaw like they were strips of flesh: "We wish for an explanation regarding tonight's events, and if you could refrain from losing yourself in your head for the immediate future, it will be a much quicker retelling."

The oddball nodded thoughtfully, his eyes finally flickering on the other teachers before he explained: "There was a student missing at dinner, so I went to retrieve her, since nobody seemed to be doing so."

"And how did you happen across the missing student?" the glacially inquisitive voice of Severus Snape was accompanied by a small twirl of his dark robes, "For that matter, how did you notice a student was missing from dinner?"

The Ravenclaw frowned, as if he didn't quite understand the question: "She wasn't at dinner, so I noticed. Will I have to retell my explanation many other times? Perhaps I should write it instead, in the interest of sparing everyone the time and annoyance of hearing me repeat myself?"

Flitwick cut in, eager to defuse once more the teachers that this troublesome kid so easily incensed: "You mean to say that you counted the students in the Great Hall?"

"The floating candles too, I am unsure whether I should consider a half-consumed candle as an almost whole one." the nod that accompanied that comment seemed to satisfy the diminutive head of House, while the shrug that followed forced some of the other teachers to take a deep breath, finally connecting the air-headed kid to the quiet one that usually sat at the back of the classroom.

"I imagine the conversation this evening was particularly dull, as opposed to the usual standards of the students." the deadpan of Severus Snape couldn't be distinguished from his usual tone, and as such it was ignored while McGonagall assumed once more the lead of the brief questioning, eager to get away from the troll's persistent smell, and to forget Potter's unlikely Parselmouth trait.

"Why would you introduce yourself as a Prefect to Miss. Granger, once you found her?" the Scottish witch stared down at the Ravenclaw student, who frowned before answering, pursing his lips in thought.

"I am not?" Diggory mumbled as he looked down on his chest, actually frowning in what looked like genuine concern when he didn't find a badge on his robes. Then, almost without any solution of continuity, his expression brightened: "Aha!", he exclaimed, "What I meant was that I was doing what a prefect should, getting everyone unable to defend themselves to their Common Rooms!"

"Disregarding the fact that that you didn't explain how you managed to find the... damsel in distress," the unpleasant voice of Severus Snape reclaimed once more the attention of the older student, "Why did the other two students roaming the castle miss you, since you all went from the Great Hall to this bathroom?"

"They didn't see me?" the question seemed to underline how he hadn't even considered the fact that, given he just said that he was around to help the 'defenseless students' to their Common Rooms, he should have at least encountered the two Gryffindor wizards.

At the shaking heads of the two first-year kids, he frowned, staring hollowly ahead of himself as he often did when trying to figure something out, before snapping his fingers as if the explanation just came to him: "Well, they didn't need my help in that case, did they?"

Unable to defeat the circular logic of the argument, and recognizing a lost cause when seeing one, Flitwick simply sighed, his arms crossing behind his diminutive form: "Well, I'd say a punishment because you ignored the Headmaster's command about returning to your Common Room, and... well, how many points for saving three first years? Minerva?"

"I notice hasn't explained how he managed to find the girl in such a timely manner." Snape stopped the Head of Gryffindor House from making her assessment on the situation, his dark eyes roaming over the air-headed Ravenclaw as if he was making use of recursive arguments just so that he could avoid giving a straight answer.

Which, to be honest, was precisely what was going on.

With professor Flitwick walking at his usual pace by my side, I shook my head in disbelief as we crossed corridor after corridor, climbing staircase after staircase.

I cannot believe I managed to troll the Professors into stopping asking the stuff I didn't want to answer to... Heh, saved by the standard quirky nature of wizard-kind. The thought was my recurring one as the Charms teacher harped on about the many things that grabbed his attention about the events of the evening.

"... and we have noticed the very advanced transfiguration that you performed, successfully, I might add, to defend the students, even if a well placed 'Confundo' would have allowed you all to walk away faster and more safely." his squeaky voice proceeded to list the advantages of a charm over a transfiguration, and that managed to steal a smile out of me.

"I've recently dreamed a snake for Trelawney's assignment, it felt the right thing to do." I shrugged while my eyes roamed over the whispering portraits that were following us from frame to frame, their excited expressions enough to tell that they were speculating about the events of the evening.

The diminutive professor chuckled good-naturedly as he accepted the not-an-explanation for what it was, his bright eyes gleaming with something that felt unnervingly like understanding: "I'm sure that Professor Trelawney will be overjoyed and proud to hear how her subject helped save three students."

I smiled in turn, exchanging a glance with the half-goblin teacher while I snorted, refusing to elaborate further on the subject. By then, however, we had reached the last stretch of the corridor leading to the entrance of Ravenclaw's common room, the raven head embedded into the door awaiting eagerly for its chance to provide a riddle.

"Professor," the idea caught me by surprise, but it was admittedly an interesting proposition, and one that presented too many advantages to be ignored, "do you think that my transfiguration impressed professor McGonagall enough for her to teach me how to become an Animagus?"

Oh, I had many, many projects on my plate already, to the point that some of my subjects like History, Herbology, Divination, and Astronomy heavily felt the lack of effort and time spent on them, but while I was aware that James Potter co had managed to become Animagi on their own, I also knew that the horrible side effects of a botched Animagus Transformation would ruin this second chance at life I so unsuspectedly had received. Besides, it isn't like I won't be watched after the stunt of tonight, openly studying shit McGonagall gives me will be enough while still being useful.

Another squeaky laugh was the supporting music for Flitwick's answer: "That's a question better asked to her, isn't it? But considering your ability in your wanded subjects, and the fact that you undoubtedly helped three of her first years, I'd say that there is a good chance for her to tutor you in the art."

I added the task of speaking with McGonagall to my ever-present lists of things to do in my head, and with no further hesitation, I approached the entrance for the common room.

Coming alive, the raven into the door asked: "What has fifteen diamonds but isn't rich?"

Ignoring the unsettling feeling that seeing a piece of stone acting as if gifted with some appearance of life instilled into me, I thought briefly about it, recognizing the brief riddle for the trick it was instead of the brain-wracking question that it occasionally offered: "A deck of cards."

"Good night, Mr. Diggory," the squeaky voice of Flitwick followed me as I entered the still crowded Common Room, "and I strongly suggest you remain with your housemates for the rest of the night, your 'air-headed behaviour', so to speak, won't fool the professors twice in the same evening. But before you go, I'm also asking you to not mention Mr. Potter's unlikely talent, he has enough on his plate without adding this kind of attention."

Oh, so he totally figured out I was trolling them. I grimaced as what I believed was my greatest trick of the evening turned out to be something Flitwick allowed, for what reason I couldn't tell.

"Sure," I glibly replied, hiding my brief disconcert behind a guileless smile that I suspected wasn't nearly as effective as I believed it to be, "good night, professor."

A blonde girl jumped in front of me as soon as I fully entered the Common Room, her brown eyes crinkled with worry while her long curly hair almost jumped up and down from her narrow shoulders: "Where have you been? We noticed you were missing when we did a headcount once we entered the Common Room!"

"Around." I answered while taking my eyes away from hers and letting my sight roam over the rather crowded common room, "Flitwick was so kind to guide me here, I got lost."

Ignoring the groans and the exchange of money that ran among the Ravenclaw students at my explanation, Penelope Clearwater frowned with undisguised concern: "How the hell did you manage to get lost? We walked as a single group from the Great Hall to Ravenclaw's tower!"

Returning my attention to the blonde in front of me I shrugged unhelpfully: "I'm just glad I've found myself again!"

"I was worried, Diggory!" her hands actually grabbed the front of my robes, "There is a troll roaming the castle, and the Headmaster was very clear with his orders!"

"By the way, how many points did you cost us?" a voice piped up from the crowd of bronze and blue, making me think about the conclusion of the sudden meeting that had been held in the girls' bathroom.

I smiled dreamily at the question, recalling the conflicted expression of McGonagall as she assigned points: I had lost 10 for roaming randomly, and gained 30 for saving three first years. How cheap of you, McGonagall.

"Dunno." I rolled my head counterclockwise as if I couldn't decide what to focus on, letting my eyes finally settle on a particular bookshelf on the left side of the room.

Unerringly, I moved there, Penelope releasing me with a tired sigh while she pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Aware of the annoying attention that the rest of the students were pouring over me, I trailed a finger over the spines of the books, finally settling on 'Charming the Charmer' by Gulliver Guileless.

Taking it out, I sit cross-legged on the ground, the illumination provided by the chandeliers perfect for a bit of reading before going to bed. As I skimmed the words written on the page, I could almost physically feel the attention of the other students bleed off me, leaving me to my book.

And to my habitual self-reflection.

Still, if my dreamy attitude hadn't fooled the professors, or at least not all of them, I was left with a couple of possibilities that explained why they let me go without an actual questioning: boredom coupled with the annoyance caused by the troll's smell, or some convoluted plot that saw me as someone involved with the creature presence within the school.

For my sake, I hoped for the first option.

In another area of the ancient castle of Hogwarts, once the inane password was given, a gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside, revealing the wall behind it splitting in two.

Behind that stone wall, there was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator, and with an aggravated sigh that encompassed all of his feelings regarding the events of the evening, Severus Snape walked on the first step, twitching in annoyance when the wall behind him closed itself with a dry thud.

With an unnaturally quiet sound of stone grinding, the potion Master rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, he reached a short corridor. And at its end stood a gleaming oak door which had a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. Snape crossed the threshold with no hesitation whatsoever, his eyes crinkling slightly in distaste at the eyesore that the Headmaster's office was.

To be truthful, the chamber was a large and beautiful circular room, full of annoying little noises that scratched the eardrums of the sour potion Master and bright colors that assaulted the sight. Almost as if sprinkled by a giant hand all over the office, a vast number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke.

Severus Snape distractedly recognized a few before he let his eyes roam the walls, habitually checking for anything out of place: alas, he was met with the usual gaggle of portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. At least they'll be quiet.

The attention of Slytherin's Head of House turned towards the lit fireplace, which was decorated with runes coated in gold, and was big enough that Severus could enter it without having to lower his head. Imposing itself on the attention of any observer was also the enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, the ratty and positively ancient Sorting Hat.

Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Severus stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making a gagging noise.

"Go ahead and burn, insufferable bird, spare us your pity party" Severus snapped.

While the phoenix squawked outraged, Dumbledore appeared from a hidden corner of his office, letting loose a relieved chuckle: "Old friend, while Severus could do with a bit more sugar in his life, his counsel is often spot on. Don't let our worries hold you back."

After a tired glance to the powerful wizard, the bird tilted his head downwards, and letting out a mournful cry, he burst into flames.

"Finally." muttered Severus, sitting down in an armchair near the fireplace, barely resisting the impulse of drawing small circles over his temples in a futile attempt of staving off his incoming migraine, "Have you seen the memory?"

"Indeed I have." the potion Master was soon joined by the powerful warlock, who busied himself by putting a teapot on the embers that shone on the outskirts of the blazing fire. The potion Master didn't bother interrupting him, nor tried to speed up the process with magic, he had tried that once and the annoyance borne of Dumbledore's reprimand was enough to kill any further attempt at making that kind of meeting any faster.

"I know that these occasional chats seem a meaningless effort to you, and that waiting for this old man to make tea must look like another waste of time." the ancient warlock said with a smile barely hidden in his beard, "Please forgive me, and bear with my quirks."

Snape limited himself to arching a single eyebrow, utterly unimpressed. "Sometimes it feels like the last ten years have been one of your quirks." he muttered, stealing another chuckle from the headmaster, "Now can we focus on tonight's events?"

"Peraphs you're right." the aged man replied, his smile widening, "But then again, a troll loose doesn't happen by chance, as we both know, and that such an event would take place on the 31st of October... "

"I moved to intercept Quirrel." stated Severus, eager to be done with that conversation "You expected something to happen on Hallow's Eve?"

"I supposed that something could happen on the 31st of October, yes." the aged headmaster relaxed against his high backed chair, "Tom was always very fond of some chosen days of the year, and I suspected that such a trait would be somewhat inherited by those working on his behalf."

"It seems farfetched, to suspect the dark lord's involvement only because of the date, I'm more worried about Potter speaking Parsektongue, of all things." Severus cut drily

The headmaster tilted his head so that he'd be staring at the potion Master from above his half-moon spectacles: "Mr. Potter's secret is quite safe, the staff has been msde aware of my opinion, while young Mr. Diggory is more interested in the talent itself rather than the wizard wielding it... as for the other part of your inquiry, I think we both know that my suspicions are based on many more elements than the mere date of tonight."

Severus grumbled something unintelligible while his dark eyes remained focused on the fire, looking back at the aged warlock only after a few seconds of silence: "What of Diggory?"

Albus smiled, and his eyes shone of the satisfaction only a teacher can feel when one pupil makes a particularly insightful observation: "Often distracted, yet driven. Talented, yet easily bored. Ravenclaw, and not all that focused on his marks, which could be rather exceptional were he to apply himself fully in his homework. If I recall correctly, he takes Divination and Arithmancy, and the circular explanations he gave this evening were utterly meaningless, as you correctly observed."

Severus shook his head minutely, a frown briefly appearing on his visage: "Minerva didn't catch on his misdirections, Flitwick was eager to avoid his House an enormous loss of points, and Quirrel was his usual stuttering-self."

Dumbledore looked at him with something akin to pity: "None of them has the habit of ferreting out secrets from schoolchildren, I fear, mostly because children tend to be transparent in their wants and moods."

"Diggory looked like he wasn't even there," Severus grouched, barely resisting the urge or rolling his shoulders to work the stiffness out of them, "occasionally he focused on the there and then, only to return to his... inner ramblings."

The blue eyes of the headmaster hardened as he stared at the head of Slytherin House: "Legimency on children, Severus?"

"A fourth-year hardly qualifies as a child, Albus." Snape snapped just as the teapot started to whistle, "I could believe the three Gryffindors' story, but how did Diggory find himself in the bathroom just to save the girl? Besides, he was simply too uncaring about the situation for it to be natural."

"And you didn't get anything out of your mental probe." the headmaster added, his tone becoming somber while the teapot floated away from the embers in order to pour a hot cup for the aged warlock."

"It wasn't Occlumency, he simply wasn't thinking about what had been going on, at all." Severus corrected the much older wizard, "What kind of 14 years old fights off a troll with advanced transfiguration and stops thinking about it?"

"A curious dichotomy, that's for sure." Dumbledore spoke with his lips just above his cup of tea, "The Diggory have been sorted in Hufflepuff for a great count of years, and yet Amos' firstborn went to Ravenclaw, this tells us just how peculiar he might be."

Severus sat straighter in his armchair, his attention now brought fully on the headmaster: he really could speak in nothing but riddles and endless obfuscations, but nothing of what he said was to go unheeded. "What do you make of it?"

"Of course, he might simply be telling the truth." the powerful warlock offered with a smile, "He could have been wandering with no purpose, and found himself in a position to help young Miss. Granger, after all, Mr. Diggory has been roaming the castle since his first year, getting lost again and again, if I recall correctly."

The memory of Diggory using 'sleepwalking' as an excuse for the many times he had been caught outside of bed during his first two years in Hogwarts rose unbidden in Severus mind, who scoffed disdainfully: "He might be air-headed, but he played on that since he figured out he could get away with it."

"Would you expel him for such a cunning move?" the mirth in Dumbledore's voice couldn't be hidden by the surreptitious way in which he drank from his cup, "He might be even trying to keep a Seeing talent under wraps, or he might be simply an unknowing pawn in a much bigger game."

The deadpan stare of Snape answered the warlock's question and at the same time managed to give his opinion about the last two options outlined by the aged headmaster: "So, I'll keep focusing on Quirrel?"

When Dumbledore slowly nodded, Severus rose to his feet, his robes already billowing past him as he made for the exit.

"Besides," the white-haired wizard added from his armchair in a mysterious tone, "I believe Mr. Diggory will find himself very busy, very soon."

The chortle of the ancient warlock didn't in any way summon mirth into the Potion Master, for him, it was enough to know that the potentially problematic Ravenclaw was being handled: if Dumbledore didn't feel the need to outright asking it, there was no need for a special interest on Severus' part.

AN

Sorry for the lack of a backflip!

I genuinely tried to make the first half of this chapter a humorous one, I hope it managed to steal a smile or two. On the other hand, I hope the part narrated in first person managed to explain a bit of the forma-mentis of the MC, while the third was a good look into what's going on in the Ivory Tower of Dumbledore.

And I know that these first chapters aren't anything to write home about, but for an SI, the first two years are relatively easy to play by ear, at least in my opinion. I used the excuse of momentary panic to explain away the choice of magic of the MC, you have to keep in mind that this is his first open interaction with canon, as well as (arguably) the first situation in which he's in 'real' danger.

Opinions? Hopes?