A collective, deafening gasp tore through the Great Hall, momentarily silencing the anxious chatter and halting the flow of food. On the colossal magical screen, the live feed showed a monstrous, grey silhouette of the troll towering over the tiny figure of Harry Potter, who stood alone in the hallway.
Sebastian's icy command—"Go."—reverberated in the silence, an act of pedagogical cruelty so brazen it eclipsed every previous stunt he had pulled.
The students were galvanized into a state of shocked disbelief.
"Is he mad? Has Professor Swann completely lost his mind?" a fifth-year Hufflepuff shrieked, clutching his throat. "He's sending a first-year to engage a Level XXXX Troll in single combat! This isn't training; it's a death sentence!"
"This is far worse than when Potter caught the Bludger with his bare hands," another student whispered, utterly terrified. "At least the Bludger was magic. This is raw, physical annihilation!"
Draco Malfoy, who had been watching the broadcast with a sneer ready, found his face contorted into an expression of genuine, internal panic. Part of him, the Slytherin ambition, darkly wanted Potter to fail, to be humbled. But the sensible, self-preserving part of him was horrified.
If Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, was reduced to a smear on the corridor floor, the political fallout would be disastrous. More importantly, it solidified Sebastian's reputation as a cold-blooded lunatic who held no value for student life—a prospect terrifying even for a Malfoy.
At the staff table, Professor Snape remained rigidly seated, his silver eyes fixed on the screen. The only evidence of his internal turmoil was the faint grinding sound of his back molars. He looked less concerned for Harry's life—after all, Sebastian was there—and more enraged by Sebastian's reckless methodology.
That arrogant, reckless Swan! If the brat emerges with so much as a single broken fingernail, I will personally ensure your next cup of tea is laced with a fatal dose of Veritaserum! This is not instruction; it is wanton endangerment!
Back in the foul-smelling corridor, Harry's brain had momentarily ceased functioning. Me? He instinctively looked at his own shoes, then up at the troll's immense, club-wielding hand, a limb thicker than Harry's entire body.
He mentally compared his height to the creature's anatomy, concluding, with despair, that the professor was essentially suggesting he attempt to headbutt the troll's knee.
"Aren't… aren't Ron and I supposed to be the support team?" Harry managed to stammer, turning his disbelieving gaze toward Sebastian.
Sebastian merely raised an eyebrow, the universal sign of 'I have already made my decision'. Sebastian's expression was infuriatingly serene, his focus split between the ongoing broadcast and the approaching beast.
With no time left—the troll was already swinging its massive, dull head toward the bathroom door—Harry swallowed the terror and shifted into a desperate offensive posture. He had to draw its attention.
Taking a deep, stabilizing breath within the confines of his Bubble-Head Charm, Harry bellowed with a surprisingly loud, adrenaline-charged voice: "Hey, you overgrown piece of ugly rock! Over here! I'll knock your teeth out, you freak!"
He raised his wand and fired his most reliable charm, the Disarming Charm (Expelliarmus), lending it every ounce of focus and intent he possessed. A bright red flash of light shot out, striking the troll directly in its warty grey chest.
The result was negligible. The troll merely paused, scratching its dense hide as if an oversized mosquito had landed on it. It blinked its tiny, vacant eyes, slowly locating the source of the irritating noise—the small, loudly shouting boy.
The troll roared—a wet, guttural sound that rattled the tiles—and shifted its immense weight, turning away from the bathroom and lumbering toward Harry, its colossal club dragging along the floor.
Harry, seeing the creature lumbering toward him, immediately abandoned the thought of direct confrontation. He was fast, yes, but not faster than a giant club. His mind, trained by Sebastian to seek tactical advantage, instantly formed a Plan A: The Decoy.
I'll provoke him, then duck behind the professor! Sebastian is the only one who can actually fight this thing!
He began to retreat cautiously, aiming to draw the troll directly into Sebastian's protective radius. However, just as he was about to make his dash, he watched in utter frustration as Sebastian took a deliberate, calm step backward, pulling the still-shell-shocked Ron with him—a retreat of exactly five meters. Sebastian had anticipated his plan and instantly neutralized it.
"No choice, then," Harry muttered, gritting his teeth.
He began firing his spells again with desperate fury, Stunning Spells, Knockback Jinxes, anything he could recall. Every single spell simply vanished against the troll's thick, naturally resistant hide—a barrier far tougher than any dragon scale.
He watched in horror as the giant club swung down. Harry ducked, the air rushing above his head. Unreal! The club missed by less than an inch, shattering the stone floor where he had stood moments before. Before he could process the sheer luck, the troll was lifting the club for another, rapid blow.
It was a terrifying, heart-stopping dance. Harry instinctively ducked, weaved, and scrambled. He was only alive because of the Protego Maxima Armatura Sebastian had cast, which deflected the worst of the concussive force, but even more critically, because of Sebastian's subtle intervention.
Sebastian stood calmly, the camera crystal pointed perfectly at the chaos, his wand held loosely. With tiny, micro-adjustments—almost imperceptible flickers of magic—he was subtly shifting the wind current, minutely adjusting the center of gravity of the wooden club, causing each devastating strike to barely miss Harry, turning a death-match into a highly controlled, high-stakes evasion drill.
Sebastian narrated coolly for the audience in the Great Hall:
"As you can observe, Mr. Potter's spells are completely ineffective against this type of troll. This is due to the high magical resistance inherent in their thick, warty epidermis. Therefore, students, if you encounter a troll in the wilderness, do not attempt direct confrontation. It is profoundly unwise."
"The best course of action is immediate Apparition. If Apparition is unavailable, you must rely on strategic evasion. Trolls are creatures of extremely low intelligence. Their focus is slow, and their rage is easily diverted. Transfiguring a large, noisy object, or using rapid movement to draw them into a trap, is always preferable to a direct spell exchange."
Just as the troll raised the club for yet another strike, the bathroom door slowly cracked open. Hermione Granger, her eyes red and puffy from crying, cautiously peeked out.
The professor's mental message—"Miss Granger, there's a giant monster outside. Your friends Harry and Ron have come to rescue you. Wait patiently."—had done little to reassure her. The sounds of fighting and Harry's desperate shouts were far too close.
She had planned to remain hidden, but when she realized Harry and Ron—the two people who had just publicly humiliated her—had risked their lives to protect her, her overwhelming sense of shame and loyalty took over.
When she saw Harry nearly crushed by the sheer brutality of the club, all hesitation fled. She shrieked—a high, sharp sound that momentarily broke the troll's focus—and rushed out, firing a desperate Knockback Jinx at the troll's head.
"Harry, get back!" she cried out.
Seeing Hermione join the fray, Ron's previous feelings of resentment evaporated. He felt a sudden, fierce rush of shame that his earlier words had caused her pain, now compounded by the fact that she was showing more courage than he was. He roared with sheer competitive defiance and charged at the troll's flank.
"I'm with you, Harry! And you too, Hermione! Let's show this beast what Gryffindors can do!"
Sebastian smiled, wide and deeply satisfied. The educational objective—loyalty under duress, and courage—had been achieved. It was time for the clean-up.
He raised his wand to cast a simple, incapacitating spell, but Hermione, frantically trying her own charms against the unyielding hide, suddenly screamed to the boys:
"Our spells are useless! We need a strategy! We need to lure it to a specific location!"
Sebastian froze, his wand hand lowering fractionally. Lure it to a specific location?
"Talk to us, Hermione! What do you have in mind?!" Ron yelled back, desperate for a plan. He had been trying futilely to use a Levitation Charm on the troll's weapon, realizing the troll's grip was far too tight for his limited skill.
"The special place!" Hermione shrieked, ducking as the troll swiped at her. "We can lure it to the fourth-floor corridor! Let the troll fight the other big guy!"
Harry's eyes instantly lit up with mad, brilliant comprehension. She meant Fluffy, the three-headed dog guarding the Philosopher's Stone! It was an insane, dangerous, and incredibly resourceful idea—using one defensive horror to deal with an offensive one.
"Brilliant!" Harry yelled, putting his new theory into practice. He ducked under the troll's legs, his tiny body slipping through the gap, and started sprinting toward the stairs leading up to the fourth floor.
"Ugly! Can't catch me! Come on, big, slow freak!"
The troll, simple-minded and focused by Harry's direct taunts, lost interest in the static figures of Ron and Hermione. It roared in frustration and lumbered after its primary agitator, the small boy disappearing around the corner. Ron and Hermione immediately followed, desperate to keep up.
Sebastian was genuinely impressed. Fresh. Never heard that tactic before.
However…
A tiny, whispered voice emanated from the portrait of a stern-looking witch hanging innocuously near the corner of the corridor. It was only audible to Sebastian.
"Professor Swann, the Headmaster conveys that the live broadcast must conclude immediately. The curriculum must be kept… contained."
Sebastian sighed. He had anticipated this. Exposing Fluffy on a live feed to the entire student body was a non-starter.
He let the trio run for a few more meters, allowing them the full feeling of the chase and the plan. As the troll reached the base of the staircase, Sebastian flicked his wand once, sharply, at the stone steps directly beneath the troll's massive feet.
"Glacies Tendo!"
A sudden, invisible, hyper-slick sheet of magical ice—a localized, powerful trip-hazard—materialized instantly. The troll's enormous foot landed on the ice, and the creature's center of gravity, already top-heavy, betrayed it completely.
With a sound like a small, crumbling mountain, the troll crashed backward, its head striking the lower railing of the staircase with a terrifying, dull thud. It settled onto the stone floor in a massive, unconscious heap.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped, staring back in stunned silence. The enormous monster was down, defeated not by a spell, but by a sudden, devastating lack of friction.
A delayed, wild sense of triumph erupted in the corridor. They looked at each other, then back at the inert giant, and then, completely forgetting their earlier resentments and tears, they embraced, laughing, cheering, and jumping in a frenzy of adrenaline and success.
"We beat the troll!" Ron screamed, his voice hoarse with pride.
The Great Hall, having watched the entire encounter, erupted into an even greater, more chaotic frenzy than before.
Do you think the students in the Great Hall believe that Harry defeated the troll solely with a trip hazard, or will they credit Sebastian's invisible intervention?