My Way's the Fun Way
Chapter 8
-Harry-
The students in the hall had barely begun to shout and scream in panic before a noise like thunder erupted from Dumbledore's wand. "Silence!" Dumbledore's expression had gone from grandfatherly and kind to a serious face of someone who'd seen war, "Student remain here in the Great Hall." Dumbledore and the faculty were already rising, wands drawn and ready "Prefects, keep order. We will be dealing with the troll." The teachers quickly exit the Great Hall, the prefects of various houses doing the rounds to ensure their students didn't panic. That failed to calm Harry as a realization hit him like a brick, having clearly hit Dean as well as Harry's Gryffindor friend ran over.
"Hermione!" they exclaim together, Harry's head whipping around for the closest prefect. One of them would surely be able to help them get Hermione back here to the safety of the Hall. He'd have sent Deek to find her, but the school had wards so only the School Elves could apparate in and out of them without issue, the Room of Requirements fluid nature making it an exception.
"Bletchley!" Harry ran over to the only Prefect nearby, a fifth year Slytherin "There's a student in the bathrooms, they don't know about the troll?"
The prefect looked surprise for a split second before noting who was talking "That Granger Ravenclaw?" they grunted and, when Harry gave an impatient nod, just scoffed "Good riddance to the mudblo-" the slur was cut off by a blast of magic from Harry's wand hitting the bastard in the face, sending them flying arse over teakettle into one of the castle's hard stone walls. The other prefects, along with the Head Boy and Head Girl, were too stunned by the sudden action to stop them as Harry and Dean bolted, running through the barrier Dumbledore had put up to stop the Troll from going into the hall.
"What Bathroom is she in?" Harry questioned, wand at the ready as they rounded the corner hastily, bolting up the stairs, the teachers audible in the lower levels.
"Third Floor!" Dean shouted, arms pumping as he kept pace with Harry. He felt his adrenaline rushing as they ran, taking the stairs two or three at a time, his magic bubbling within his gut as the school itself seemed to be reacting to their desperation. The stairs, usually full of mischievous energy and moving at the worst times, slammed into solid place, giving an unchanging path right to where they needed to go.
"Thanks!" Harry shouted, unsure if the school as actually alive but not going to risk it, not if the school was helping them save their friend. Getting to the third floor, they raced down the hall, several portraits seeing their mad sprint.
"What ho!" the portrait of a knight exclaimed at the sight, "What has you buys running so seriously through these hallowed halls?"
"There's a troll in the school!" Harry shouted to the portraits, getting an idea "Our friend doesn't know and the prefect we told said he hoped she dies!" The shouting of the furious portraits was cacophonous.
"Did the teachers do nothing?!" the knight looked outraged.
"They're in the dungeons looking for the troll!" Dean shouted, realizing Harry wanted the paintings to go and inform the staff. The paintings were, thankfully, quick on the uptake as well, several rushing off toward the dungeon while the rest kept pace with him and Dean.
"There!" Dean pointed out the bathroom as they reached the end of a hall, "Hermione!" they threw the door open, their bushy haired friend letting out a startled yelp, dropping the towel she'd been using to dry her hands.
"What are you two doing in here?!" Hermione yelled scandalized, hands covering herself even though she was fully clothed "This is the girl's room!"
"There's a troll in the castle!" Harry hissed, grabbing Hermione's hand, "We need to get back to the Great Hall!"
"A troll, what are you-" Hermione's eyes widened in horror just as Harry registered the deafening noise from the portraits, hundreds of voices mingling together, were all shouting in fright.
Whirling around, Harry was forced to dive, dragging Dean and Hermione with him as the troll worked to force its way through the too small door with a roar. The wooden frame shattering under the beast's raw bulk as its arm with a club swung through the air. The stalls splintered under the force of the strike, wood and metal flying through the air as the angry creature continued to try and get inside.
Lashing out with his wand, Harry hurled a basic cast at it, Dean and Hermione doing the same as the small orbs of magic impacted the troll in the face with little effect. It reacted as if the attacks were pebbles being flicked at it, mere annoyances.
"Trolls are magic resistant!" Hermione shouted in dismay as they saw their casts doing next to nothing.
Diving down to avoid another swing from the one arm the troll had through the door so far, Harry's hands brushed against the hundreds of splinters and shards of the broken wood, an idea forming.
"Needle transfiguration!" Harry shouted, hoping they'd pick up his idea as he started rapidly casting, Dean and Hermione picking up quickly enough as they worked to turn all the various pieces of wood, none larger than their pinkies, into needles.
"Okay, now what?!" Dean was panicking as Harry whipped his wand around.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry shouted, the needles all lifting into the air, but that was only half the task. He could make things float but that wouldn't give propulsion, the banishing charm wasn't supposed to be something taught until fourth year.
But he needed it now. He needed the needles to fly through the air, to pierce the troll.
Harry grit his teeth, arm reared back before thrusting it forward, yelling in rage and frustration as he did the only thing he could do.
He poured out his pleas and demands to his magic, putting every ounce of will into the one concept of making the needles go forward.
They flew. Streaks of glittering silver shooting through the air as they peppered the troll like a machine gun, digging into its thick grey hide as the creature reared back in pain, their transfigured weapons sticking out if its skin like a bad mockery of acupuncture. The Troll reared back, roaring in pain as its hand slammed to its face where most of the needles had hit, likely digging several in even deeper if its pained screams were any indication. Either way though, the massive body wasn't in the doorway anymore.
"Move!" Hermione was smart enough to see their opening, grabbing his hand and Deans as they bolted through the shattered doorway and through the troll's legs.
"The stairs stayed in place when we were coming for you!" Dean shouted as they made their way madly back to where they'd come from, "Maybe the school will move them away once we're on to keep the troll away from us?!"
"KIDS, DUCK!" one of the portraits shouted before he could respond, the three of them throwing themselves forward even as the troll's thrown club flew over their heads, slamming into the ground with a sickening crack as he imagined if it had been their skulls it had hit.
The troll was on its feet, one hand still clutching its face as blood seeped through its fingers, one eye standing out and filled with utter hatred and rage as it stomped down the hall toward them. They wouldn't have long, and had too far to go before it would catch up with them. They wouldn't reach the stairs in time.
His wand was moving before his mind had caught up, casting that same transfiguration spell on the giant's club. The weapon was made of wood, with a bulbous head making it almost shaped like a giant match. Hermione and Dean didn't question him, helping out with the spell as best they could as club was soon gleaming pointed steel.
"Wingardium-!" Harry began, Dean and Hermione already realizing his idea.
"Leviosa!" they shouted, the giant spear, for that's what it was now, prying itself from the ground, floating with the tip pointed right at its owner.
He'd forced the needles to fly, but he couldn't leave it at just that. One lesson his teachers had all imparted to them was that the most important part of magic was intent.
He had a clear vision of what he wanted, and he could feel Dean and Hermione's magic mingling with his own spell, their desire to see his idea through. The spear began to rotate, spinning faster and faster as it quickly became a blur.
Seeing them making another painful needle, the Troll roared and started to run towards them rather than the slower stride it had been doing, not wanting them to finish.
But it was too late now.
Giving a yell, Harry pushed every ounce of magic in him into the spell, hurling the spinning javelin through the air, Hermione and Dean's magic helping push. The spear screamed as it flew, slamming into the troll's chest with a wet sickening crunch.
But Harry heard nothing further, his vision going black as he collapsed to the ground.
-Professor Babbling-
Panting, Professor Babbling got up to the third floor. When a group of painting residents had stormed into the Dungeon frames, shouting about a student unaware of the troll, a prefect wishing death on the student, and two first years being the ones trying to go save them, she heard Dumbledore let out a string of expletives she'd never thought to hear from the kind old man.
Not that her language had been any better.
She'd taken off up the stairs, shouting that she'd find them while the others worked to track down the Troll. She had a litany of Runic devices on her person at all times thanks to her expanded bag, so she was the most well-armed of the staff apart from Hagrid for his sheer strength or Dumbledore for the man's utter mastery of magic.
"This hall here!" Sir Cadagon, for once deadly serious, shouted as he led her to the correct passageway. Although with the stairs being ominously rigid, she could have guessed that herself.
Rounding a corner, she froze in shock. There, laying in the middle of the corridor, were the three First Years she'd been sent to save…and at the far end, impaled to the wall by a giant gleaming spear, was the corpse of the troll, dripping a small river of blood onto the stone floor.
"E-expecto Patronum!" she stammered, summoning her messenger patronus "Dumbledore…come up here…the troll got to the third floor, its dead, students unconscious." Sending the messenger magic away, she hurried toward the three unconscious children. Casting the simpler diagnostic spells she knew; she got back readings that the three were suffering magical exhaustion but were otherwise unhurt.
Glancing back up, she saw the end of the spear had a giant hole in the back that, after a moment, she recognized as the eye of a needle. Just like what McGonagall had students transfigure in their first ever practical lesson.
"Sweet Merlin." She staggered back as she realized the implications, that three first years had killed a fully grown mountain troll by themselves.
Something told her this wasn't going to be the last time these three would surprise her.