Time, accelerated by the relentless pace of magical discovery and the intensive Duelling Club sessions, had flown to the cusp of Halloween. Hogwarts Castle, bathed in the rich, autumnal light of the setting sun, was a picture of magnificent, gilded splendor.
The halls were a tapestry of festive decorations: garlands of black and orange streaming across the ceilings, and hundreds of enormous, intricately carved Jack-o'-lanterns casting mischievous, warm orange light into every shadowed corner.
Sebastian, standing at the entrance to the Great Hall, initiated the traditional pre-dinner festivities. He summoned a gargantuan pile of glistening, jewel-toned candy. With a sharp, elegant wave of his wand, the mound dissolved and reformed into hundreds of chibi-style bats—small, plump, and utterly adorable.
Their wings were short and rounded, fluttering with a buzzing sound like over-sized bumblebees, and their disproportionately large eyes were alight with cartoonish mischief.
The young wizards shrieked with delight. This was far better than simply having candy appear. They produced their wands and began firing brilliant, low-power spells—Stunning Charms and Knockback Jinxes—at the flying confectioneries. Each direct hit caused a bat to deflate into a satisfying pile of prize candy, raining down onto the delighted students.
Fred and George, however, quickly deemed this method inefficient. They exchanged a subtle, calculating look—the precise, collaborative glance of true inventors.
Simultaneously, they cast a complex Transfiguration on their black school robes, morphing them into two gigantic, oddly-shaped insect nets. The base of each net was reinforced with a magically retractable, lightweight pole, allowing them to sweep wide swaths of the air.
Their efficiency skyrocketed. The surrounding students watched, astonished, before immediately copying the tactic, desperately transfiguring jackets, scarves, and even long house banners into makeshift collection tools.
Laughter, shouts of triumph, and the chaotic flutter of makeshift nets mixed with the magical buzz of the small bats, turning the entire Great Hall into a scene of joyous, competitive anarchy.
The chaos eventually settled as Headmaster Dumbledore announced the start of the Halloween Feast. The tables groaned under an impossible bounty of food: golden-roasted turkeys, savory pumpkin rinds, potatoes caramelized to perfection, towering pies, creamy chocolate creations, and fluffy, sweet puddings.
Harry, finally managing to locate an open seat, scanned the Gryffindor table. "Ron, have you seen Hermione? She vanished right after Charms class, and I haven't seen her since."
Ron was performing a delicate juggling act, managing to gnaw on a turkey leg in each hand. His mouth was full, making his reply a garbled, disgruntled noise. "I… I didn't sh-see her… Pro'bly library…"
He swallowed the huge mouthful with effort, chasing it with a long, noisy gulp of pumpkin juice. He slammed his goblet down, his expression turning ugly.
"Honestly, who cares! It's better if she's not here. I've had it up to here with her! She's gotten so bossy since we started practicing Petrificus Totalus in the Arena. She acts like she's Flitwick's personal assistant, constantly telling me my wand angle is off, my pronunciation is wrong, my stance is weak! She thinks being a first-year Apprentice Mage gives her the right to lecture everyone! I'm trying to practice speed, but she just keeps criticizing! It's infuriating."
Neville Longbottom, sitting nearby and nervously sipping his juice, finally intervened. "Don't say that, Ron. Parvati and Lavender saw her. She was… really upset. They said she was crying in the girls' lavatory."
Ron's sudden, aggressive indignation faltered. A look of profound, uncomfortable guilt flickered across his face. Crying? He hadn't expected his exasperation to have that kind of effect. Was she genuinely that fragile?
Harry and Ron exchanged a moment of awkward silence, unsure whether they should apologize immediately or wait until the damage had cooled. Before Harry could articulate a single, remedial word, the huge doors of the Great Hall burst open with a resounding bang.
Professor Quirrell stumbled into the hall. He was shrieking in a high, terrified falsetto, his turban slipping askew.
"TROLL! TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON—!"
He didn't finish the sentence. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed dramatically onto the flagstone floor, utterly paralyzed by theatrical terror.
Panic erupted instantly. Screams pierced the festive atmosphere as hundreds of students bolted from their seats. Sebastian, who was standing near the staff table, simply extended his wand and, with a complex, silent wave, cast a massive Boundary Charm over the entire hall.
A faint, shimmering, nearly invisible dome of golden light briefly encapsulated the space, muffling the worst of the noise and subtly reinforcing the walls.
"Silence!" Sebastian's voice, amplified by a Charm, cut through the panic like a physical whip.
The students froze, instinctively responding to the sheer, calm authority in his tone.
"Containment is in effect! The Headmaster is present! You are in the safest place in the castle. Return to your seats! The feast has only just begun, and you will not miss dessert for a mere creature of level XXXX classification."
Sebastian turned to Dumbledore, his tone becoming professional and brisk. "Headmaster, your presence is required here to maintain the magical stability and order. The threat is contained to the lower levels. I have already confirmed the location." He paused, allowing his eyes to rest meaningfully on the pathetic figure of Quirrell.
"As for Professor Quirrell, who seems to have succumbed to stage fright…" A predatory smile touched Sebastian's lips. "I shall place him directly under your benevolent care."
With a delicate Levitation Charm, Sebastian lifted the 'unconscious' Quirrell. He then conjured a comically thick, velvet-covered pillow right in front of the Headmaster's chair and settled Quirrell gently upon it.
"The floor is dreadfully cold. Let Professor Quirrell slumber safely here, right where he can't possibly be disturbed or—disturb anyone else." It was a move of pure, calculated humiliation.
Harry, whose mind had just violently swerved from Ron's cruelty to Hermione to the terrifying reality of the troll, realized the horrifying consequence of the events.
"Professor Swann!" Harry scrambled forward, dragging a pale-faced Ron with him toward the staff table. "Professor! Hermione didn't come to dinner! She doesn't know! She's in the girls' bathroom, maybe right near the dungeons! We have to go find her!"
Professor McGonagall moved instantly to protest, "Absolutely not, Potter! The corridors will be too dangerous! I forbid it!"
But Dumbledore intervened, his eyes twinkling knowingly at Sebastian. "Minerva, their loyalty to their friend is admirable and deserves respect. Moreover, I believe Professor Swann can transform this unfortunate event into an unprecedented educational opportunity."
Dumbledore's gaze sharpened, a silent command passing between the two wizards. "I trust Professor Swann to provide the necessary protection and context for this real-world lesson."
Sebastian nodded, understanding the unspoken directive: Harry needed to be tested under fire.
"No need to worry, children," Sebastian announced to the still-nervous students. He waved his wand at the immense wall, which shimmered and transformed into a gigantic magical screen. He then pulled out a specially enchanted, fist-sized crystal that served as his first-person magical camera.
"A creature of this classification is a crucial subject in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Since you are not permitted to leave, I shall bring the lesson to you. I will now provide a live, first-person feed of a tactical encounter with a Mountain Troll. Watch and learn, and for those of you who lost your appetite, this should provide excellent motivation to continue eating."
With that, Sebastian led a trembling Harry and a sickened Ron out the doors, the crystal camera already transmitting the feed back to the captivated, horrified students in the Great Hall.
The moment they entered the correct corridor on the first floor, a smell assaulted them—a thick, overpowering stench of dirty socks, mold, and something sickeningly sweet.
Sebastian reacted instantly, tapping his wand to his lips. "Caput Bulla!"
Three translucent Bubble-Head Charms instantly encased their heads, separating their airways from the repulsive atmosphere. He directed the camera crystal toward the floor.
"Attention, students watching the broadcast! The presence of a troll is invariably signaled by an extreme, noxious odor, strong enough to induce fainting. The Bubble-Head Charm is an essential practical utility spell for insulating yourself from such environments. This is why we practice utility charms—they are the key to situational control."
As Sebastian finished his commentary, the floor shuddered violently. A sound like a massive sack of concrete hitting stone echoed from the end of the corridor.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look of pure dread. The bathroom was just ahead, and the troll was approaching fast.
Suddenly, a monolithic, gray shape filled the intersection directly across the corridor from the girls' bathroom entrance. It was a Mountain Troll, nearly twenty feet tall, its skin thick, warty, and the color of moss-covered rock.
Its arms were like thick, gnarled pillars of stone, and it wielded a massive, crude wooden club that scraped dangerously against the ceiling. Its head was pitifully small for its body, and its tiny, dark eyes glowed with a dull, vacant cruelty.
Harry felt his blood turn to ice. Ron looked ready to vomit, his hands shaking so badly he could barely grip his wand. Hermione was directly in the path of that thing.
"Professor Swann!" Harry hissed, anxiety spiking. "It's right there! We have to act now!"
Sebastian calmly raised his wand and pointed it not at the troll, but at Harry. He cast a powerful, specialized ward. "Protego Maxima Armatura!"
An invisible, dense field of magical energy—a reinforced Armor Charm—settled heavily around Harry, making him feel momentarily weighted, but utterly protected.
Sebastian's smile was slight, cold, and utterly terrifying in its casual demeanor.
"The shield is applied, Harry. It will protect you from basic blunt force and minor spells for a short duration."
He then pointed his wand directly down the corridor, toward the monstrous silhouette.
"Your training has been sufficient. Your friend is in danger, and you are protected. The responsibility of neutralizing the target now falls to the Apprentice Mage, Second Level."
"Go."
The sheer volume and proximity of the troll is overwhelming. Do Harry and Ron have the courage and the presence of mind to coordinate a successful Petrificus Totalus against such a giant target?