The Troll

The banquet was lively, and the students were in high spirits. The professors at the High Table were chatting animatedly, too.

At the Slytherin Table, Matthew sat with his two roommates.

Geralt was peeling a potato. Looking at Matthew, he said, "Are you that hungry? You're eating so fast!"

Matthew was rapidly clearing the food on his plate. If he didn't eat his fill now, there'd be nothing left later. He frowned. This Aged Beef Steak was pretty chewy.

"I'm hungrier than usual today."

Jerry shot Geralt a look and said sarcastically, "What an honor, dining with Slytherin's Infatuated Prince at the Hallowe'en Eve Banquet."

Slytherin's Infatuated Prince was Geralt's nickname around the House—a derogatory one.

Geralt's smile vanished. It was true that he'd rarely eaten with his roommates lately; he usually dined with Pansy.

"We broke up."

Matthew reached for a rice pudding and took a bite. It was blueberry-flavored. "Do tell."

Geralt took a bite of the peeled potato and said slowly, "This time, it wasn't my fault."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "That's what you say every time."

"Pansy's views are a little extreme. She's a supporter of Pure-blood Supremacy. That alone wouldn't be a problem, but she also tried to influence me." Geralt glanced at his two roommates and continued, "She wanted me to stay away from you two."

Jerry fell silent. He and Matthew were both Half-blood Wizards.

Matthew stopped eating and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He'd spotted Professor Quirrell at the entrance.

He patted Geralt on the shoulder. "There's always someone better."

Matthew didn't care much about the attitudes of these so-called Pure-blood Supremacists. In the end, might made right. If they left him alone, fine—but if they dared act up in front of him, he wouldn't go easy on them.

Professor Quirrell stumbled in from the entrance to the Great Hall. His turban was askew, and his face was full of terror. All the professors and students in the hall noticed him.

He ran up to the High Table and stopped beside Dumbledore, panting. "Troll... in the Dungeon Classroom... thought you ought to know."

As soon as he finished speaking, Professor Quirrell collapsed to the floor.

The Great Hall erupted into chaos. Some of the younger students even screamed in terror.

Dumbledore drew the Elder Wand and swept it through the air. Several sparks shot from its tip and burst overhead.

At the sound of the explosions, the students in the Great Hall fell silent.

"Prefects," Dumbledore said in a low voice, "take your Houses back to their dormitories at once!"

The Prefects from all four Houses stood up and led their students out of the hall.

After leaving the Great Hall, Harry, Ron, and Hermione fell in at the very back of the Gryffindor team.

Worry filled Harry's eyes. He asked the other two, "Neville still hasn't come back. Could he have run into the Troll?"

"Then he's done for!" Ron said, his voice trembling a little. "Trolls are terrifying Magical Creatures! They're unbelievably strong!"

Hermione bit her lip. "We have to go back and tell the professors."

"There's no time. Neville could be in danger any moment!" Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione by the arms, then glanced back at the Slytherin House group. "We're going to find Matthew!"

After spending some time with Matthew and hearing about him from others, Harry thought he was reliable. He'd immediately thought of asking him for help.

Seeing Harry's determined expression, the other two nodded without thinking.

Soon, they slowed down and slipped away from the Gryffindor team.

Matthew was just looking for an excuse to slip away from his roommates when he saw the trio approaching.

When they reached him, Ron said anxiously, "Neville's been taken by the Troll!"

Harry clapped a hand over Ron's mouth, then said, "Neville went out to look for Trevor and hasn't come back. We had Shapeshifting Technique Class this afternoon, so he might have gone to the Shapeshifting Classroom on the first floor to look for Trevor. He could run into the Troll any moment. We wanted to ask you to help us, Matthew."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. Why was he rescuing Neville this time instead of Hermione?

He nodded and agreed. He'd already planned to find the Troll and make it bleed a little.

Matthew's roommates asked, "Do you need our help?"

Matthew smiled faintly. "It's only a Troll. I can handle it."

Jerry and Geralt didn't try to dissuade him. Trolls weren't very intelligent, and their weaknesses were obvious. They believed Matthew was strong enough to deal with one.

Matthew said goodbye to his roommates and led the three off toward the Dungeon Classroom. Along the way, they spotted Professor Snape turning into a corridor in the opposite direction.

Harry sneaked a glance at Matthew and whispered, "Why isn't he with the other teachers? Why is he in the dungeon?"

Matthew could tell Harry suspected Snape. He said calmly, "Seeing isn't always believing. Let's go. If we're any later, the Troll might smash Neville into Neville paste."

The three imagined the scene, and their faces paled.

Neville wasn't in the Shapeshifting Classroom—or anywhere on the first floor. Matthew and the others found him on the second floor, near the History of Magic Classroom. The Girls' Lavatory was just ahead.

"Harry... what are you doing here? Didn't you go to the Hallowe'en Eve Banquet?" Neville said with a goofy smile, holding Trevor. "I said you didn't need to wait for me. I found Trev—"

But before he could finish, he saw the terrified expressions on the three faces opposite him. Then he caught a foul stench coming from above and behind him.

He looked back. A huge, bloated Troll had poked halfway out of the Girls' Lavatory behind him, staring at him with its ugly little eyes.

The Troll squeezed out of the Girls' Lavatory and reached for Neville with the hand that wasn't holding its club.

"Neville, move!" Hermione shouted.

She quickly drew her wand. "Stupefy!"

Hermione's Stunning Spell hit the Troll, but it only swayed slightly before continuing to reach for Neville.

Neville felt as if his legs had stopped working. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move, and could only stand frozen in place.

Matthew sprang into action. He raised his wand.

"Diffindo!"

A Transparent Arc Wind Blade struck the Troll's arm, cutting a fairly deep wound into it.

"Argh!" The Troll let out a pained howl.

The trio immediately rushed forward, grabbed Neville, who was still frozen in place, and pulled him back.

The enraged Troll raised its club and swung it at them.

Matthew flicked his wand again.

"Expelliarmus!"

A red flash struck the club, and it flew out of the Troll's hand.

Matthew angled his wand downward. The club dropped from the air at once, crashing down toward the Troll's head.