Disclaimer: I only own the plot , if any text from original source is used then they would belong to one and only J.K. Rowling. Hope You Like it.
Fred and George trudged into their dormitory, frustration etched on their faces. The Fat Lady's refusal to let them leave had stumped them, and the weight of their helplessness hung heavy in the air.
"How are we supposed to get out of here?" Fred asked, pacing around the room, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
George shook his head, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for an invisible escape route. "I've been thinking, but none of our usual tricks will work on the Fat Lady. She's too stubborn."
Fred stopped pacing and faced his brother, his expression grim. "We're stuck here, George. Completely helpless. Our friends are out there, possibly facing that troll, and we're trapped."
George's eyes sparkled with determination. "Not entirely, Fred. We can't sneak out, but we can still track them. We have the Marauder's Map."
In unison, the twins rushed to their trunk, rummaging through the contents with a shared sense of urgency. They retrieved the magical map, carefully unfolding it to reveal the castle's secrets.
"Let's find them," George said, his eyes scanning the map, his finger tracing the corridors.
Fred's eyes scanned the map alongside George's. "Ah, here they are! Harry, Ron, and Neville are near the library...with the Ravenclaws."
The map showed tiny dots representing their friends, moving steadily through the corridors.
"Looks like they're searching for Hermione," Fred muttered.
George nodded. "And they're being careful. They're sticking with the Ravenclaws."
Suddenly, the names vanished from the map.
"What the...?" Fred exclaimed, his brow furrowing.
George's eyes narrowed. "Either they're dead, which is impossible, or..."
"Or they've found a secret passage we don't know about," Fred finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
George's eyes widened. "A passage even the Marauders didn't know about. That's impossible."
Fred's face set in determination. "We need to figure out where they went. There must be a clue somewhere."
The twins studied the map intently, searching for any hint that might reveal their friends' whereabouts. They poured over every detail, every corridor, every hidden corner.
"This is getting more and more interesting," George muttered, his eyes scanning the map.
"And more dangerous," Fred added, his voice laced with concern.
Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. They would find a way to help their friends, no matter what secrets the castle held.
"We'll get them, George," Fred vowed.
"Together," George replied, his grin mirroring Fred's.
The twins refolded the map, their minds racing with possibilities, their determination burning brighter than ever.
The twins continued their meticulous search, scouring the Marauder's Map for any sign of Hermione. Their eyes scanned the corridors, searching for the telltale dot that would indicate her location. Fred's fingers traced the map's intricate pathways, his focus unwavering, as if willing the dot to appear.
"Ah-ha!" Fred exclaimed, his finger stabbing at the map with excitement. "I've found her!"
George leaned in, his eyes locking onto the dot, his face inches from Fred's. "Where is she?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Second floor, girls' bathroom," Fred replied, his brow furrowed in concern.
George's expression turned anxious. "She's not moving at all," he observed, his eyes fixed on the stationary dot.
"That means she doesn't know about the troll," Fred said, his voice low and worried, his eyes clouding with concern.
The twins exchanged anxious glances, their faces reflecting their shared fear. Hermione's safety was paramount, and they knew they had to act fast.
"Just think if she walks out of there," George whispered, his eyes wide with fear, his imagination racing with worst-case scenarios.
"Don't even think it," Fred muttered, his jaw clenched, as if willing the thought away.
Just as they were pondering their next move, three names suddenly reappeared on the map, sending a surge of excitement through the twins.
"Look!" George whispered, his finger tracing the corridor. "Harry, Ron, and Neville are back!"
Fred's eyes widened in astonishment. "And they're near the second floor corridor! It's like they came out of nowhere."
George shook his head, baffled. "No idea how they did that. One minute they're gone, the next they're back."
The twins studied the map intently, trying to make sense of their friends' sudden reappearance. They analyzed every detail, every corridor, every hidden corner.
"At least we know where they are," Fred said, his voice tinged with relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Yeah, that's something," George agreed, his expression mirroring Fred's.
They knew they couldn't do anything to directly help their friends, trapped as they were in the common room. But knowing their locations brought a semblance of reassurance, a thread of hope.
"We'll keep watching," Fred said, his eyes fixed on the map, his gaze unwavering.
"Every step," George added, his voice a promise.
Together, they monitored the map, their hearts racing with anticipation, waiting for any sign of change, their minds racing with strategies and plans.
"Come on, guys," Fred whispered, his voice a silent plea. "Stay safe. We're watching."
Harry, Ron, and Neville reached the second floor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they paused at the corridor junction. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows, amplifying their apprehension.
"Ready?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes scanning the corridors.
Ron and Neville nodded in unison, their faces set with determination.
"Let's do this," Ron whispered, his voice laced with resolve.
Harry nodded, his jaw clenched. "I'll check the left corridor. You two take the right."
Neville's eyes locked onto Harry's, a silent understanding passing between them. "Be careful, Harry."
Harry smiled grimly. "You too, Nev. We'll meet back here in 10 minutes."
With a shared nod, the trio split up, their paths diverging like the corridors they were about to explore. Harry headed down the left corridor, his eyes scanning the doors for any sign of Hermione, his wand at the ready. Ron and Neville disappeared into the right corridor, their footsteps fading into the distance.
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor third-year dormitory, Fred and George pored over the Marauder's Map, their faces bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows. Their eyes widened as they watched the dots representing Harry, Ron, and Neville split apart.
"They've separated," Fred whispered, his brow furrowed in concern.
George's eyes narrowed. "They must not know which bathroom Hermione is in. Or they're trying to cover more ground."
Fred's face set in concern. "But what if they run into the troll? We have to warn them."
George's eyes locked onto the map, his mind racing. "We can't. The Fat Lady won't let us leave. We're stuck here."
Fred's jaw clenched. "We have to try something. We can't just sit here."
As they continued to monitor the map, their minds racing with strategies, Harry, Ron, and Neville moved cautiously through the corridors, unaware of the danger lurking nearby.
"We need to find Hermione," Harry muttered to himself, his eyes scanning the doors, his heart pounding with anticipation.
"Come on, Hermione, where are you?" Ron whispered, his breath coming in short gasps.
Neville's eyes darted between the doors, his senses on high alert. "What if we're too late?"
The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with uncertainty, as the three friends navigated the dark corridors, their fates hanging precariously in the balance.
Harry walked cautiously down the corridor, his eyes scanning each room he passed for any sign of Hermione. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, amplifying his apprehension. He checked every door, his wand at the ready, prepared to defend himself and Hermione if necessary.
As he turned a corner, Harry felt a sudden, fleeting pain in his scar. The sensation was unmistakable - it was the same searing feeling he had experienced on his first day at Hogwarts, when he looked into Quirrell's turban and unknowingly faced Voldemort's malevolent presence.
"What the...?" Harry muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion.
He had initially attributed the pain to Snape's piercing gaze, but after testing his theory, he realized it wasn't the potions master's eyes causing the sensation. The memory of that day flooded back, and Harry's thoughts whirled with possibilities.
"Quirrell can't be here, right?" Harry thought, his mind racing. "He's unconscious in the Great Hall, recovering from the troll's attack."
Then, a worrying thought struck him.
"Wait, I hope someone's moved him," Harry whispered, his eyes scanning the empty corridors. "He can't be left alone, especially not now, with the troll on the loose."
Harry's frown deepened, his concern for Quirrell's safety momentarily distracting him from his search for Hermione. He hoped Professor McGonagall or another teacher had taken Quirrell to a safe location.
"But what's going on?" Harry wondered. "Why am I feeling this now?"
The pain in his scar had subsided, but the unease lingered, leaving Harry with more questions than answers. His heart pounded in his chest as he contemplated the dark forces at work within the castle.
"Focus, Harry," he told himself, shaking off the distraction. "Find Hermione."
With renewed determination, Harry continued his search, his senses heightened, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead. Every creaking floorboard, every rustling tapestry, made him jump.
"Where are you, Hermione?" Harry whispered, his eyes scanning the corridor, his voice barely audible.
The silence was oppressive, heavy with uncertainty, as Harry navigated the dark corridors, his scar throbbing with an ominous warning. The shadows seemed to deepen, as if the very darkness itself was closing in around him.
On the other hand, Ron and Neville were navigating the dark corridors, their eyes scanning every door for a glimpse of Hermione. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, amplifying their apprehension. Suddenly, they heard footsteps echoing down the hallway, the sound bouncing off the stone walls.
"Quick!" Ron whispered, grabbing Neville's arm and pulling him into the shadows.
They both darted behind a nearby pillar, holding their breath as the footsteps drew closer. Ron's heart pounded in his chest, and Neville's eyes were wide with fear.
"Who is it?" Neville whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ron peeked around the pillar, his eyes locking onto the figure moving swiftly towards the stairs.
"It's Snape," Ron whispered, his brow furrowed.
Neville's eyes widened. "What's he doing here?"
Snape's black robes billowed behind him as he climbed the stairs, his eyes fixed on some unknown destination.
"Probably the third floor corridor," Ron replied, his eyes narrowed.
Although Harry had assured them that Snape was on their side, Ron and Neville couldn't shake off their doubts. The memory of Snape's piercing gaze and acidic tongue lingered.
"There's something off about him," Neville muttered.
"I know," Ron agreed. "But we can't worry about Snape now. We need to find Hermione."
They rebuked themselves, refocusing on their mission. Hermione's safety was paramount.
"Right, Hermione," Ron whispered, his eyes scanning the corridor.
As Snape vanished into the shadows, the boys continued their search, checking every room, but to no avail.
"Still nothing," Neville whispered, frustration creeping into his voice.
"Keep looking," Ron urged. "She has to be here somewhere."
With renewed determination, they pressed on, their hearts pounding with every creaking floorboard.
"Come on, Hermione, where are you?" Ron muttered, his eyes scanning the corridor.
The silence was oppressive, heavy with uncertainty, as Ron and Neville navigated the dark corridors, their search for Hermione growing more desperate by the minute.
"We'll find her," Neville whispered, his voice a reassurance.
"Ofcourse" Ron replied, his eyes locked onto Neville's.
With a shared nod, they continued their quest, undeterred by the shadows and secrets surrounding them.
"Next room," Ron whispered, his wand at the ready.
Neville nodded, his eyes fixed on the door.
Together, they pushed forward, their bond and determination driving them deeper into the unknown.
Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, had undergone a transformation over the past year. Once dismissed as a dull, spectral presence, he had gained unexpected respect from his students, particularly Harry Potter. Harry's polite attentiveness had awakened something within Binns, and he now found himself genuinely invested in his pupils.
"I never thought I'd see the day," Binns would often say to himself, marveling at the change.
Students now looked forward to his classes, and Binns had formed unlikely friendships with Harry, Ron, and Neville. The once-staid teacher had discovered a new enthusiasm for his subject, and his passion was contagious.
However, on this fateful evening, Binns's thoughts were far from his newfound popularity. The news of a troll roaming the school had sent shivers down his spine.
"This is dreadful," Binns muttered to himself, his eyes scanning the empty corridors.
Despite knowing that the teachers were handling the situation, Binns felt compelled to ensure the students' safety. He had always been a diligent teacher, but his newfound connections with his students had stirred a deeper sense of responsibility within him.
As he turned a corner, Binns's worst fears were confirmed. A massive troll, its club at the ready, lumbered towards the second floor corridor.
"Good heavens!" Binns exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper.
The troll's enormity and ferocity froze Binns in terror. He knew he had to act, but his legs seemed rooted to the spot.
"What can I do?" Binns thought, his mind racing.
Suddenly, memories of his conversations with Harry and his friends flooded back. He recalled their bravery and quick thinking in the face of danger.
"I must warn them," Binns resolved, his spectral form stiffening with determination.
With newfound courage, Binns glided swiftly towards the staff room, determined to alert the teachers and help protect his students.
"This troll will not harm them, not while I can still teach," Binns declared to himself, his eyes flashing with uncharacteristic defiance.
Professor Binns instantly moved towards the dungeons, his spectral form gliding swiftly through the corridors. He was driven by a sense of urgency, knowing that the troll he had seen on the second floor was merely one of potentially greater dangers lurking within the castle.
As he descended into the dungeons, the sounds of clashing magic and snarling beasts grew louder. Binns's eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he was met with a chaotic scene.
Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Babbage were battling four enormous trolls, their magic and spells flashing through the air. These trolls were even bigger and more menacing than the one Binns had seen earlier.
"Good heavens!" Binns exclaimed, his voice barely audible over the din of battle.
He knew he had to warn them about the fifth troll, but he also understood that interrupting their concentration could prove disastrous. Binns decided to wait, observing the battle with bated breath.
"We need to take out the largest one first!" McGonagall shouted, her wand flashing.
"Agreed!" Dumbledore replied, his eyes shining with intensity. "Flitwick, Babbage, focus on the left flank!"
Sprout charged forward, her herbology skills transforming into deadly accuracy as she struck the trolls with venomous plants.
Binns watched in awe, his respect for his colleagues growing with every passing moment.
"Just a little longer," Binns whispered to himself, his eyes fixed on the battle.
The trolls were formidable foes, but the combined strength of the professors was slowly gaining ground.
As the fight raged on, Binns waited patiently, his warning poised on the tip of his tongue, ready to be delivered the moment the professors emerged victorious.
Ron and Neville continued their desperate search for Hermione, their eyes scanning every door and corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Suddenly, Ron's nose wrinkled in distaste.
"Ugh, do you smell that?" Ron asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his face contorted.
Neville's eyes widened as he sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "Yes! It's awful! Like rotting flesh."
They both turned to see a troll, towering over them at an alarming two and a half times their height, roaming the corridor with a massive club, its grip tightening around the wooden handle.
"Oh no!" Neville whispered, his eyes frozen on the troll, his voice trembling.
Ron's face paled, his freckles standing out against his white skin. "Run!" he urged, grabbing Neville's arm.
But instead of fleeing, Ron's quick thinking kicked in. He spotted a door with a key still lodged in its lock, partially hidden by a tattered tapestry.
"Neville, follow me!" Ron whispered urgently, tugging Neville towards the door.
With the troll mere feet away, Ron and Neville made a break for the door, their hearts pounding in unison. They darted to the side, dodging the troll's clumsy swing, its club crashing into the stone wall.
"Hey, over here!" Ron shouted, distracting the troll, waving his arms wildly.
Neville joined in, his voice echoing off the walls. "Yeah, come and get us!"
The troll lumbered towards them, its club raised, its eyes fixed on the two friends.
"Now!" Ron yelled.
Together, they slammed the door shut behind the troll and turned the key, locking it from the outside with a satisfying click.
Ron and Neville shared a triumphant high-five, their palms slapping together.
"We did it!" Ron exclaimed, his grin spreading.
"That was brilliant!" Neville grinned, his eyes shining.
Their panic forgotten, they shared a moment of relief and pride, their chests heaving.
"We saved someone," Neville whispered, his voice filled with awe.
"Until next time," Ron added, his grin still plastered on his face.
But their celebration was short-lived. The memory of Hermione's unknown whereabouts quickly snapped them back to reality.
"Hermione," Ron whispered, his expression turning serious.
"We have to keep looking," Neville urged.
Hermione had spent the entire day locked in the toilet chamber, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to come to terms with her feelings. Feeling isolated and alone, she had resolved to change her approach, to be a friend that Ron, Harry, and Neville would truly like.
"I'll try harder," Hermione whispered to herself, wiping away her tears.
With newfound determination, Hermione opened the chamber door, only to be met with a horrifying sight.
A massive troll, two and a half times her size, stood near the bathroom door, its club clenched in a meaty fist. The troll's skin was a mossy green, with thick, scaly patches covering its arms and torso. Its eyes glowed like embers, burning with a malevolent intensity.
"Oh no," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling.
The troll's nose was flat and wide, its mouth twisted into a snarl, revealing jagged teeth. A putrid stench wafted from its body, making Hermione's stomach churn.
At present, the troll hadn't sensed Hermione's presence, but it was only a matter of time.
In panic, Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs.
"HELP!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the bathroom tiles.
The troll's ears twitched, its head swiveling towards the sound. Its eyes locked onto Hermione, and a vicious grin spread across its face.
Hermione's scream trailed off, replaced by ragged breathing. She was paralyzed with fear, her eyes fixed on the troll's advancing form.
"Please, someone help me," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible.
The troll took another step closer, its club raised, ready to strike. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, her fate hanging precariously in the balance.
Ron and Neville were still basking in the triumph of locking the troll away, their grins fading as Hermione's terrified scream pierced the air, echoing off the stone walls.
"What was that?" Neville asked, his eyes wide with concern, his voice trembling.
Ron's face fell, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. "Sounded like Hermione!"
They exchanged a panicked glance, their minds racing with worst-case scenarios.
"We have to help her!" Ron exclaimed, his voice laced with urgency.
Without hesitation, they sprinted towards the source of the scream, their footsteps echoing down the corridor, their hearts pounding in unison.
As they turned the corner, Ron's eyes locked onto the door to the girls' bathroom, his gaze freezing in horror.
"No, no, no," Ron muttered, his face pale, his lips trembling.
He frantically tried to open the door with the key, but it wouldn't budge, the metal jammed.
"It's stuck!" Ron shouted, desperation creeping into his voice.
Neville's eyes darted to the door, his face set with determination, his jaw clenched.
"Move aside, Ron!" Neville ordered, his voice firm.
Ron stepped back, his eyes wide with fear, his hands shaking.
Neville raised his wand, his voice steady, his eyes focused.
"Alahomora!" Neville whispered, the incantation barely audible.
The lock clicked open, and the door creaked ajar, revealing a sliver of the bathroom's interior.
Ron's eyes met Neville's, a shared dread reflected in their gazes.
"What have we done?" Ron whispered, his voice barely audible.
Neville's face was grim, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and resolve.
"We didn't know she was inside," Neville replied, his voice low.
With a deep breath, Neville pushed the door open, revealing the horrors within.
Ron's eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene before them.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, his voice echoing off the bathroom tiles.
Harry was walking towards the left, his eyes scanning the corridors for any sign of Hermione, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of their earlier conversation. The dimly lit passageway seemed to stretch on forever, the shadows cast by the flickering torches dancing across the walls. Suddenly, Hermione's terrified scream pierced the air, echoing off the stone walls.
"Hermione!" Harry's mind shouted, his heart racing with alarm, his thoughts snapping into sharp focus.
He knew the troll had found her. Without hesitation, Harry spun around and ran towards the right at full speed, his legs pumping with all his might, his feet pounding the stone floor.
"I have to save her!" Harry thought, his determination driving him forward, his face set in a resolute expression.
Despite his toned and muscular physique, Harry felt helpless in that moment. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his lungs burning.
As he rounded the corner, he heard Ron's scream.
"Hermione!" Ron's voice echoed, laced with desperation, his tone mirroring Harry's own fear.
Harry's anxiety spiked. Neville and Ron were also with the troll now.
"Oh no," Harry thought, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, his imagination conjuring images of his friends in peril.
He sprinted towards the girls' bathroom, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest, every beat feeling like a drumbeat.
The distance seemed to stretch on forever, each step feeling like an eternity, every second ticking by with agonizing slowness.
"Please, let me be on time," Harry silently pleaded, his eyes fixed on the door ahead.
With a final burst of speed, Harry turned the corner and saw the girls' bathroom door ahead, its wooden surface looming before him.
He flung himself towards it, ready to face whatever horrors awaited him inside, his hand reaching out to grab the door handle...
As Ron and Neville burst into the bathroom, they were met with a terrifying sight. The troll, its massive body looming large, its rough, gray skin glistening in the dim light, was moving towards Hermione, its club raised high, ready to deliver the final blow. Hermione, paralyzed with fear, stood frozen, her eyes wide and unblinking, her face drained of all color.
"Oh no, Hermione!" Ron whispered, his voice trembling with terror, his eyes fixed on the troll's menacing form.
But Ron himself looked paralyzed with fear, his body rigid, his face pale, his lips trembling.
Neville saw Ron's frozen state and knew he had to act fast. He carefully approached Hermione, trying to coax her into moving, his voice soft but urgent.
"Hermione, come on! Move! We have to get out of here!" Neville urged, his eyes locked on Hermione's.
But Hermione was too terrified to respond, her body rigid, her lips sealed.
The troll swished its club, breaking some of the sinks and wooden toilet chambers with a deafening crash, sending shards of ceramic and splintered wood flying everywhere. Neville raised his hand, wand at the ready, hoping to cast some sort of protection spell, despite not knowing any.
"Uh, Protego... or something!" Neville stammered, his voice shaking.
But before he could attempt the spell, a piece of wood fell on his arm, sending his wand flying out of his hand. It landed with a faint clatter, lost among the wooden ruins scattered across the floor.
Hermione's wand lay nearby, forgotten near the sink, its slender form seeming insignificant against the troll's brute strength.
Hermione suddenly snapped out of her trance, her eyes focusing on Neville.
"Neville!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from fear.
But it was too late. The troll was ready to attack, its club raised high.
Just as the troll was about to strike, it stumbled, its club wavering. Ron had grabbed a nearby trash can lid and flung it at the troll.
"Take that, pea brain!" Ron shouted, his voice ringing through the bathroom.
The troll turned, its eyes fixed on Ron, its face twisted in rage.
"You!" the troll growled, its voice like thunder.
The troll raised its club, ready to strike Ron down. Neville's heart sank, his mind racing with despair.
"No, Ron!" Neville shouted.
Hermione's eyes widened in horror.
"Ron, watch out!" Hermione screamed.
But before the troll could attack, Ron stood firm, his eyes flashing with defiance.
"Come on, then!" Ron snarled.
The troll charged, its club swinging wildly, ready to crush Ron beneath its massive weight...
Just then, Harry burst into the bathroom, his heart racing with anticipation and fear, hoping he wasn't too late. He was met with a horrifying sight that made his blood run cold. Hermione and Neville were clutching each other, wandless and clearly terrified, pressed against the wall, their faces pale and their eyes wide with fear.
"Oh no!" Harry thought, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
He saw Ron standing opposite, ready to take the troll's club attack, though he had his wand at the ready, his hand trembling slightly.
And then Harry saw the troll. It was a mountain troll, its massive body looming large, its rough, gray skin glistening in the dim light. Harry had already read about them in the books at Fawcett Manor, but nothing had prepared him for the reality.
"But it's smaller than I thought," Harry observed, his mind racing with thoughts of how to tackle the creature.
The troll looked nothing like the monstrous creatures he had imagined. In fact, its eyes betrayed a deep-seated fear, a look of panic that made Harry realize.
"He's just a child," Harry thought, a pang of sympathy hitting him.
The troll was panicked, trying to save itself, its massive body trembling with fear.
But the troll was about to attack Ron, and Harry, Hermione, and Neville screamed in unison, their voices echoing off the bathroom tiles.
"No!" they shouted, their cries filling the air.
Harry acted instinctively, jumping forward to grab the troll from behind, wrapping his arms around its neck, his hands locking together.
"It's crazy!" Harry thought, but he had saved Ron.
As he tried to pull out his wand, the troll shook violently, and Harry's arm got stuck in its nose, the wand wedged deep.
The troll winced in pain and grabbed Harry, its massive hand closing around his leg, its grip like a vice.
"Ah!" Harry cried out, his voice muffled by the troll's grasp.
The troll lifted Harry off the ground, his head dangling towards the floor, his stomach lurching with fear.
The troll was now ready to attack, its club raised high, the wooden surface gleaming menacingly.
"Please don't!" Harry pleaded, his voice shaking.
But the troll was beyond reason, its panic and anger fueled by the pain in its nose, its face twisted in a snarl.
"You're okay, I won't hurt you!" Harry shouted, trying to reason with the creature.
Yet the troll's grip only tightened, its fingers digging deep into Harry's leg.
"Let me go!" Harry shouted.
The troll's club remained poised, ready to strike, its shadow looming large on the wall...
Meanwhile, Snape reached the third-floor corridor, his eyes scanning the area with a mixture of caution and suspicion. The dimly lit passageway seemed to stretch on forever, the shadows cast by the flickering torches dancing across the walls. He was guarding it, ensuring no one breached the security measures in place to protect the powerful Sorcerer's Stone.
With a swift motion, Snape opened the door, revealing the three-headed dog, Fluffy, growling in panic. The dog's six eyes glared menacingly, its jaws snapping wildly.
"Easy, boy," Snape whispered, attempting to calm the beast, his voice low and soothing.
However, Fluffy's agitation only intensified, and Snape's efforts were rewarded with a sharp bite to his leg. The dog's teeth sank deep into Snape's black robes, and he winced in pain.
"Confounded creature," Snape muttered, his eyes flashing with annoyance.
He limped out of the room, his black robes billowing behind him, his leg throbbing in agony. As he emerged into the corridor, he was met with an unexpected figure - Quirrell.
"Ah, Quirrell," Snape said, his tone laced with skepticism, his eyes narrowing.
Quirrell's eyes darted nervously, his smile faltering. He seemed taken aback by Snape's sudden appearance.
"When I regained consciousness, I thought someone must have brought the troll to cause a distraction," Quirrell said hastily, his voice trembling slightly. "I came here to investigate."
Snape's gaze pierced Quirrell's, his expression unreadable, though his eyes betrayed his disbelief.
"I see," Snape said, his voice neutral, his tone dripping with suspicion.
Just then, screams echoed from the second floor, shattering the tension. The sound sent a chill down Snape's spine.
"What in the...?" Quirrell exclaimed, his eyes wide with alarm.
Without a word, Snape and Quirrell started running towards the source of the screams, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. The wooden floor creaked beneath their feet as they hastened their pace.
"We must hurry," Snape urged, his voice low and urgent.
As they descended the stairs, the screams grew louder, and Snape's concern deepened.
"What's happening?" Quirrell panted, his breathing ragged.
Snape's response was grim.
"We're about to find out," he said, his eyes fixed on the stairs leading down to the second floor...
Meanwhile, in the dungeons, a fierce and intense battle raged on. Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall, Babbling, and Flitwick were fighting four trolls, their wands flashing as they cast complex spells to subdue the creatures. The air was thick with the sound of crashing, shouting, and the scent of damp earth and mold filling their nostrils. The trolls' roars echoed off the stone walls, making the ground tremble beneath their feet.
"We need to coordinate our attacks!" McGonagall shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls, her eyes flashing with determination.
"Expelliarmus!" Dumbledore boomed, disarming a troll with a swift, precise flick of his wand, sending the troll's club flying across the room.
"Reducto!" Flitwick yelled, sending another troll stumbling backward, its massive body crashing into the stone wall.
"Protego!" Sprout shouted, deflecting a troll's attack with a shimmering shield charm.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the teachers managed to defeat the trolls. All four lay unconscious but, aside from that, unharmed. The teachers stood panting, their chests heaving with exhaustion, their robes disheveled.
"Well done, everyone," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with pride, a warm smile spreading across his face.
The teachers relaxed, their tense shoulders easing, their faces flushed with exertion.
"We did it," Sprout said, a smile spreading across her face, her eyes shining with relief.
Just then, Professor Binns appeared out of nowhere, his transparent form floating towards them. His eyes looked grave with concern, his spectral face pale.
"Colleagues," Binns said, his voice spectral, laced with urgency, "I'm afraid there's another troll, smaller than these, but still a threat. It's on the second floor."
McGonagall's expression turned serious, her brow furrowing.
"Where exactly?" she asked, her voice firm.
"Near the bathroom, I believe," Binns replied, his voice fading.
But before Binns could continue, a girl's terrified scream pierced the air, followed by other screams. The sound sent a chill down their spines.
"Oh no!" Sprout exclaimed, her eyes widening.
"What's happening?" Flitwick asked, his voice trembling.
The teachers exchanged worried glances, their faces set with determination.
"We must go, now!" McGonagall urged, her voice ringing.
Without hesitation, the teachers started running towards the second floor, their footsteps echoing through the corridors, their robes billowing behind.
"Hurry!" Dumbledore shouted.
As they ran, the screams grew louder, and their sense of urgency intensified.
"We can't let anyone get hurt!" Flitwick exclaimed.
"We'll do everything in our power to protect them," McGonagall vowed.
The teachers burst through the doors to the second floor, ready to face whatever lay ahead, their wands at the ready...
Back in the bathroom, the troll was about to deliver the final blow to Harry, who was now swinging upside down in the troll's massive hands, his wrists and ankles flailing wildly. Harry's heart racing with fear, his mind reeling with desperation, he accepted his fate, realizing there was nothing he could do to escape.
"Please, don't!" Harry pleaded, trying to reassure the child troll, his voice shaking with terror.
"Stop, you're hurting me!" Harry cried out.
But the troll was beyond reason, its panic and fear driving it to violence, its eyes wild and unseeing.
Harry closed his eyes, ready to face his demise, his thoughts flashing to those he loved. In that moment, a flurry of memories flooded his mind.
"I'll never see my parents again," he thought, a pang of sadness hitting him, their smiling faces etched in his memory.
He remembered his grandmother, Mrs. Tucker, and Dudley, his unwanted but still familiar family, their quirks and flaws.
Then, his thoughts turned to his true friends: Hermione, Ron, and Neville, their laughter and adventures.
"And Ginny," he whispered, a smile spreading across his face, his heart swelling with love.
He recalled her smile, her beauty, her hand in his, and the kiss they shared, the warmth of her touch.
"I confessed my love to her today," Harry thought, a sense of happiness washing over him, the memory of her blush and smile forever etched in his mind.
At least he had told her how he felt before it was too late.
Just as Harry steeled himself for the impact, he heard Hermione's and Neville's screams, their voices piercing the air.
"Harry!" they shouted in unison, their cries echoing off the bathroom tiles.
"No!" they cried, their voices cracking with fear.
Harry waited for the club to strike, but it never came.
Instead, he fell to the ground with a thud, his face scraping against the cold floor, the wind knocked out of him.
It hurt, but Harry was alive.
As he looked up, he saw Ron standing over him, his eyes shining with determination, his chest heaving with exertion.
"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, his voice laced with concern.
Harry nodded, still dazed, his head spinning.
Ron had thrown something at the troll again, distracting it long enough for Harry to escape.
"What did you throw this time?" Harry asked, his voice weak.
"Whatever I could find," Ron replied with a grin, holding up a broken toilet lid.
The troll, enraged, began to charge towards them once more, its club raised high, its eyes blazing with fury.
"Run!" Ron shouted, grabbing Harry's arm, pulling him to safety...
Harry, Hermione, and Neville were wandless, but Ron still grasped his trusty wand, his eyes blazing with determination. Ron looked as if he would stop at nothing to kill the troll, his jaw set in a fierce resolve.
"Ron, no!" Harry pleaded, grabbing Ron's arm.
"Let's not harm it," Harry urged. "It's just a child, scared and panicked."
Ron's expression softened, his gaze shifting to the troll. He saw the fear in its eyes, the confusion.
"Right," Ron said, his voice filled with newfound understanding.
Ron's eyes sparkled with a sudden idea.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron shouted, flicking his wand.
The troll's club flew out of its hand, hovering in mid-air.
"Nice thinking!" Harry exclaimed.
With a precise flick of his wand, Ron guided the club towards the troll's head.
"Sorry, mate," Ron whispered.
The club knocked the troll out cold. The troll's massive body crashed to the ground with a thud, sending shockwaves through the bathroom.
A stunned silence fell upon the room, the only sound the heavy breathing of the four friends.
Hermione's face was etched with tears, her eyes red and puffy from crying uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, her body wracked with emotion. She couldn't shake the thought that just moments before, one or all of them were about to meet their demise, all because she had been crying in the bathroom, feeling helpless and alone.
Neville's eyes were misty, his gaze haunted by the memory of Harry's close call. Just a minute ago, Harry was swinging upside down in the troll's grasp, his life hanging by a thread. Neville's breath caught in his throat as he recalled the terror he felt, thinking he'd lost his best friend.
Ron, too, was breathing heavily, his chest still heaving from the exertion of fighting the troll. But what truly unsettled him was the look on Harry's face at that moment - a look of resigned acceptance, willing to sacrifice himself to save Ron. Ron's eyes stung with tears as he thought about the depth of Harry's loyalty.
Harry himself was horrified, his mind reeling with the thought of what could have been. The memory of his parents, Ginny, and his friends flashing before his eyes still lingered. He recalled the feeling of acceptance, of knowing he was about to leave this world behind.
As they locked eyes, the weight of their shared ordeal crashed down on them. They glanced at each other, and without a word, rushed into an enormous group hug. The tension and fear melted away, replaced by tears of relief and gratitude.
"We almost lost each other," Hermione sobbed, her voice trembling.
"I thought I'd lost you, Harry," Neville whispered, his voice cracking.
"I'm so sorry, guys," Ron choked out, his eyes welling up.
Harry whispered, his voice trembling, "Friends Forever."
"Friends Forever," Hermione, Ron, and Neville repeated in unison, their voices cracking with emotion, still crying and holding each other tight.
In that moment, they knew their bond was unbreakable, forged in the fire of adversity and strengthened by their love and loyalty for one another. The hug seemed to last an eternity, a testament to the depth of their friendship.
As they held each other, the bathroom around them faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of their embrace, the beating of their hearts, and the unspoken promise to always be there for one another...
Next Chapter is Not Sheer Dumb Luck .
A/n: I hope You like it. Please ignore grammatical and spelling errors.Well , this time fighting with the troll or say trolls was certainly more exciting, which formed the unbreakable bond between the four friends, their will to sacrifice themselves for each other. All of them showing gryffindor courage but it vanished by the feeling of loosing each other. Thanks for reading. § Hinny Forever § Please Review!!!