Another week of classes had flown by. It was the last day of October—Halloween—and the school had organized a massive feast.
Stepping into the Great Hall, you couldn't miss the thousands of bats fluttering near the ceiling. They flapped their wings, occasionally diving over the dining tables or hanging upside down from the rafters and windowsills. Alongside the bats were hundreds of carved pumpkins of all sizes, some stacked in the corridors and others floating magically in mid-air.
As a black cat, Coal fit the vibe perfectly. Sullivan had brought her along, and right now, she was standing on her hind legs dancing with a skeleton. It was a little creepy, but mostly just hilarious.
Once the students were seated, Sullivan noticed something: everyone was at the Gryffindor table except for Hermione.
Searching his memory, he realized this was the precursor to the troll incident. After Dumbledore had caught him on the fourth floor, Sullivan felt the old headmaster had become much more cautious around him. This might be the perfect chance to turn things around. Plus, trolls were full of valuable alchemy materials. If he could snag some, it would be yet another "gift" from good old Professor Quirrell.
Raising his glass, Sullivan headed over to the Gryffindor table and plopped down between Harry and Ron. Since the system already recognized them as friends, they didn't mind and shuffled over to make room.
"Where's Hermione today? Doesn't she usually hang out with you guys?" Sullivan asked directly.
"We don't 'hang out' with her," Ron said, sounding a bit guilty despite his defensive tone. "She's always bossing people around. Nobody likes being with her."
Harry, who was currently stuffing a chicken leg into his mouth, gave an apologetic shrug. "Ron said the same thing after our last class... but Hermione heard him."
"And then?" Sullivan looked at Ron.
Ron's eyes darted around. "And then... well, she ran off crying."
Sullivan gave Ron a sharp flick to the forehead. "So, you made a girl cry and let her walk off alone? If your mom found out about this, what do you think she'd do?"
Ron's face went pale. "Professor Sullivan, please! Don't tell my mom. She'd kill me."
"Alright, stop eating. You two are coming with me to find her," Sullivan commanded.
"But Professor, we have no idea where she went! She might be back in the dorms by now," Harry pointed out.
Parvati Patil, an Indian girl sitting nearby, overheard them. "Hermione didn't go back to the common room," she chimed in. "I saw her running toward the basement crying."
"Alright, you two rascals, listen up," Sullivan said, grabbing them both by their collars and leading them out of the Hall. "From now on, never let a girl walk away alone in tears."
Dumbledore watched them leave, but he didn't stop them. He simply kept an eye on them through his own subtle means.
Once they reached the basement, Sullivan pulled out his phone and opened the Marauder's Map app. He quickly spotted Hermione in the girls' bathroom.
Standing outside the door, the three males hesitated. Sullivan nudged Ron. "Alright, Ron. She's in there. Time to show some manliness."
"Me? What am I supposed to do?" Ron asked, pointing to himself in confusion.
"Apologize, obviously. Surely a brave Gryffindor lion isn't too scared to say 'I'm sorry'?" Now that he'd found her, Sullivan felt relaxed enough to tease them.
Ron looked at the bathroom, then at Sullivan, and puffed out his chest. "Of course I'm not scared! But... it's a girls' bathroom. It's not really right for me to go in."
"It's fine, she's the only one in there. Go on. She's in the fourth stall from the left," Sullivan said, laying it all out.
"Professor Sullivan, how do you know that?" Harry and Ron asked, looking at him as if he had X-ray vision.
Sullivan didn't hide it. He showed them the screen, and they were immediately blown away by the magic of the map.
"Cool! Professor, what is that? Is it expensive?" Ron asked enviously.
"Just a little gadget I made. Not for sale yet," Sullivan replied. "But you two better watch yourselves—I can see exactly where you are on this."
Harry and Ron shrank back a little, feeling like they were under constant surveillance, though in reality, Sullivan rarely used it.
Suddenly, Harry pointed to the edge of the map where a new name was moving toward them: Skull-Crusher the Troll.
"What's that? Skull-Crusher? Is that a student? What a weird name," Harry asked.
"A troll?" So soon? Sullivan snatched the phone back, comparing the troll's location to theirs.
Before he could process it, a foul stench hit them—a mix of stinky socks and a public restroom that hadn't been cleaned in months. At the end of the corridor, a massive creature over ten feet tall emerged. It was hulking, dim-witted, and carrying a giant wooden club.
"Hermione, get out! Right now!" Sullivan roared toward the bathroom, drawing his wand.
He wasn't panicked; in fact, he was excited. Thanks to his system upgrades, his Magic Power, Spells, Transfiguration, and Dark Arts Defense were all at Level 7. He felt incredibly powerful, though he hadn't tested his limits yet. He'd thought about dueling Snape, but after observing him, he realized Snape's skills were likely Level 8 or higher—no point in looking for a beatdown.
This troll was the perfect chance for some live combat. He was actually worried it might be too weak. After all, in his memory, three first-years had taken it down easily. How tough could it be?
"Expelliarmus!" Sullivan shouted. A jet of red light burst from his wand. From the power output to the control, it was peak performance.
Sullivan was proud of the shot; it felt like a Level 8 move. The spell curved beautifully through the air toward the troll. But then, the unexpected happened.
The troll swung its left fist at the incoming spell. It looked slow, but the punch itself was lightning-fast.
BOOM!
The fist collided with the spell, shattering the magic instantly. The troll's skin was slightly scorched, and a shockwave rippled through the air. The creature stumbled back from the force but didn't fall. Instead, it steadied itself and let out a furious roar.
Sullivan stared at the troll, then back at the two boys behind him, thinking: Can someone explain to me how a bunch of first-graders beat a monster that can literally punch a Level 8 spell out of the air?
Dumbledore, you old cheat! You definitely rigged that fight in the books! I don't believe it for a second!
To be fair, Sullivan had relied too much on the original plot. If a troll were that easy to handle, Quirrell wouldn't have thought it could distract the entire faculty. It also showed Sullivan's lack of combat experience. For twenty years, he'd focused on alchemy. He rarely fought, and when he did, he used high-powered gadgets to steamroll opponents. He hadn't been in a real scrap in ages.
Any experienced Auror would have known that trolls have high magic resistance. The best way to deal with them is physical force or blunt objects.
Hermione came running out of the bathroom then, her eyes red from crying. She stopped dead when she saw the guys. "What are you doing—"
She didn't finish. She saw the monster roaring at them. When the monsters from her books became a reality, Hermione froze in terror.
The troll wasn't done. With its walnut-sized brain, it only had one thought: You hurt me, I eat you!
It began to turn, and just as Sullivan was wondering what it was doing, it lowered its shoulder and charged. Trolls are usually slow, but once they get a head of steam, you do not want to be in their way.
"Run! Get out of here!" Sullivan yelled. He wasn't underestimating it anymore. He flicked his wand. "Impedimenta!"
Harry and Ron saw that Hermione's legs had turned to jelly. They grabbed her under her arms and bolted, leaving the troll to the "reliable" Professor Sullivan.
The Impediment Jinx created a wall of air, but it held for less than half a second before the troll tore right through it.
"Incarcerous!" Ropes shot out to bind the beast, but they snapped instantly.
"Petrificus Totalus!" The Full Body-Bind Curse hit the troll's shoulder, turning a patch of skin to stone. Instead of stopping it, the added weight just seemed to make its charge more devastating.
As the troll closed the gap, Sullivan started to sweat. In a moment of desperation, he aimed for the troll's legs. "Sectumsempra!"
Snape had taught him this spell back in school, along with Levicorpus. Sullivan hadn't been great at it then, but he was a different man now.
An invisible blade sliced through the air with a whistling sound. A deep gash appeared on the troll's right knee. It wasn't deep enough to take it down, but the troll let out a howl of pain.
Predicting the distance, Sullivan swung his wand repeatedly. "Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!"
Thanks to his improved control, every strike hit the exact same spot. After about five hits, the knee finally gave out. Under the troll's massive weight and momentum, its leg bone snapped outward, and the beast lost its balance, tumbling forward.
The troll was dangerously close now. As it fell, its massive body flew toward Sullivan like a crashing boulder. At the last second, Sullivan threw himself into a desperate roll to the right. The troll missed him by inches, its head slamming into the stone doorframe of the bathroom with a sickening thud. It went limp, out cold.
---
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron had hauled Hermione up to the first floor, where they ran straight into Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and a trailing Snape.
McGonagall was furious. "What on earth are you doing?" she demanded, glaring at Harry.
Hermione had snapped out of her shock. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew her friends had come for her, and she wasn't going to let them take the fall.
"It was my fault," she said before Harry could speak. "I went looking for the troll... I thought I could handle it. I've read all about them, and I thought I knew enough."
"If they hadn't found me, I'd probably be dead. And Professor Sullivan is still down there fighting it!"
"Get back to your dorms immediately! We'll handle this!" McGonagall didn't waste another second and led the charge to the basement.
Once the professors were out of earshot, Ron cleared his throat. "Look, Hermione... I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said those things. And, uh, thanks for taking the blame just now."
Harry added, "But you didn't have to, Hermione. We're in this together. Plus, we have Professor Sullivan, right?"
The three of them shared a small laugh. Instead of going to the common room, they turned around and followed the teachers. They couldn't just leave Sullivan behind.
When the professors reached the bathroom, they caught Sullivan mid-clumsy-roll as the troll hit the ground. Thankfully, the beast was down.
McGonagall rushed to help Sullivan up, while Snape stepped forward to examine the troll. When he saw the wounds on its knee, his eyes lit up.
"I must say," Snape drawled, "it seems you haven't just been tinkering with alchemy all these years. Your spellwork has improved significantly."
Sullivan gave a weak grin. "Well, we're the 'Snake and Eagle Duo.' I didn't want to fall too far behind you."
Snape let out a cold snort. He hated that cringey nickname. He had no idea why his younger self had agreed to be part of a "duo" with this guy.
"Professor Sullivan, are you okay?" Hermione ran up and threw her arms around him—or rather, his legs, since she was so small.
Sullivan straightened his back and patted her head. "It was just a little troll. I had it under control the whole time."
"Is that right?" Snape said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron, her face grim. "I thought I told you to go to your dorms. Why are you still here? For this, I will have to—"
"Because of your reckless behavior, I'm docking ten points from Gryffindor!" Sullivan interrupted, beating McGonagall to the punch. "That's ten points each! Now, get back to your dorms while the professors clean this up!"
Sullivan was just trying to grind his "Enemy of Gryffindor" achievement, but the trio completely misread the situation. They thought he was protecting them by giving them a lighter penalty than McGonagall would have.
Harry gave Sullivan a quick wink. "Sorry, Professor. We're going!"
As they hurried off, the remaining staff began discussing what to do with the carcass.
"Troll mucus and blood are excellent ingredients for high-end potions," Snape said immediately. "I'll take care of the disposal."
Sullivan waved his hand dismissively. "No way, this is my trophy. Troll blood and bone are great for alchemy too. Also, that club looks like good wood. I'm keeping that."
Snape frowned. "I'll give you a hundred Galleons. We split the blood, you keep the club and the bones, and I take the rest. Deal?"
"Heh, deal!" Sullivan said, reaching out to shake Snape's hand.