Hope (He's) Okay

Hearing Ron's words, Hermione hesitated for not even a moment before turning and running with him in the opposite direction of the crowd.

The Prefects were all busy maintaining order among their own House lines. No one paid any attention to these two little troublemakers going against the flow.

"God, I hope Harry is okay," Hermione said.

"How could he not be?" Ron said with certainty. "He's The Boy Who Lived. Even The Dark Lord came to grief before him. How could a mere troll possibly hurt him?"

Yet even as he said it, Ron did not sound entirely confident.

Trolls were thick-skinned and tough, with extraordinarily high resistance to magic. Spells cast by first-year wizards would struggle to do more than scratch an itch, let alone hurt one.

Merlin's socks, Ron prayed silently to Merlin, Harry, please don't let anything happen to you! I'll go a whole year without eating Chicken legs if I have to!

The Harry they were so worried about had just pulled up his trousers.

He had originally planned to use the Halloween feast as an opportunity to sneak down to the Crypt beneath the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

After all, the feast was packed with people. A missing student or two would hardly be noticed.

And going to the bathroom was the perfect excuse to slip away—not merely an excuse either; he really had wanted to stop by on the way.

Just as he finished putting on his robes, he suddenly sensed that something was wrong.

Why were there heavy, muffled footsteps outside? Thump. Thump. Thump.

At the same time, a foul stench hit him in the face. Harry identified what it was almost instantly.

Heavy footsteps, a reeking body odor—what else could it be besides a troll?

He pushed open the stall door and looked toward the entrance, meeting the gaze of the troll standing there.

The troll at the door stood twelve feet tall. Its dull, lusterless skin was granite-gray, and its head was only as large as a basketball. Compared with its enormous body, that head was pitifully small.

It dragged a thick Club behind it, one even taller and thicker than Harry himself.

It clearly hesitated. Its pitifully tiny brain whirred at maximum speed, and after estimating the difference in size between itself and this "little person," it let out a frenzied roar.

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. This thing... had terrible breath.

Though the troll was not very intelligent, it could still sense Harry's disgust and contempt. The little man's airs enraged it!

But its pitifully tiny brain could not figure out why such a little man had not run at the sight of it. Instead, he stood there staring it down, even having the nerve to look disgusted.

Harry was angry now. Very, very angry.

He had only just learned of an old friend's death yesterday. He had intended to examine the traces left behind in the Crypt, only to have his path blocked by this stupid giant halfway there.

There was no way the professors could fail to notice a troll in the school. By the time they arrived at the Bathroom, he would have no chance to slip away.

The troll raised its enormous Club, a savage smile appearing on its face.

So did Harry.

Wasn't this just perfect?

He was in a bad mood today, and a thick-skinned punching bag had come right to his door...

Even with its limited brain capacity, the troll sensed that something was off.

Before it could react, it saw the little man before it pull out a tiny stick, far smaller than the Club in its own hand.

"Expelliarmus!"

A flash of red light shot out, and the Club flew from the troll's hand.

Yet the Club did not fall to the ground. Harry had decided to take full advantage of this hard-won punching bag and vent some of his anger!

He drew a deep breath...

Then he rolled his eyes and dry-heaved. The troll's body odor was fucking overpowering.

Watching its weapon get disarmed into the air, the troll slowly developed a question mark over its head and stretched out a huge hand, trying to reach for the Club.

It could not understand why it suddenly could no longer hold onto its weapon.

"Hey, big dummy!" Harry shouted. With a casual flick, he used Transfiguration to turn a broken door panel into a thick pair of iron Shackles, fastening them around the troll's ankles.

The troll gave a crude grunt and turned its ugly little eyes toward Harry.

Harry controlled the Club overhead and gave his wand a hard flick!

Following Harry's movement, the Club smashed viciously into the troll's body.

"Aah! Aaargh!"

The troll might have been thick-skinned, but being struck by a Club controlled through magic still felt awful.

Harry continued manipulating the Club in the air, striking left and right, avoiding vital areas as he mercilessly pounded the troll's body.

The troll howled in pain and kept dodging, trying to evade Harry's attacks.

But the moment it moved, the Shackles created by Transfiguration threw its body off balance. With a thud, it crashed to the floor.

Harry was not about to let it go just because it had fallen. Not only did he want to vent his anger, but the troll had clearly intended to attack him just now.

The school would not expel a young wizard for beating up a troll in self-defense, would they?

He thought leisurely, his hands never stopping as he continued controlling the Club to pound heavily against the troll's body.

The troll regretted this now. It regretted it very, very much.

Why had it wandered into this strange building and provoked such an unremarkable little nuisance?

But it had no strength left to resist Harry's beating as if it were a punching bag. All it could do was clutch the spots that had been struck and let out pained wails.

The pain, regret, and pleas for mercy in those cries were so obvious that even a Flobberworm could have heard them.

Ron and Hermione heard the troll too, and anxiety filled their hearts. Was the troll venting its rage? Had it found Harry already? Or was it... beating Harry into Harry paste?

"Harry... Harry will be okay, right?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling with tears.

"He will. He definitely will!" Ron shouted anxiously, running even faster.

They had cast all danger aside, their hearts filled only with worry for Harry's safety.

"Is—is this the door?"

Listening to the dull thuds from inside and the troll's seemingly enraged howls, Ron swallowed involuntarily.

"Wait, open it quietly and take a look first—" Hermione grabbed Ron as he prepared to force the door open. Lowering her voice, she said, "Don't alert the troll yet. What if it's only taking out its anger on the Bathroom decorations?"

Ron thought she had a point, so he gently pushed open the door.

Then he saw a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.