The girls' bathroom wasn't very big. With seven or eight people crammed inside, it felt terribly crowded.
As they listened intently to the sounds outside, Hermione and Pansy glared at each other, stubbornly refusing to back down. The others, though—the Slytherin girls, Harry, and Ron—weren't nearly so "calm." They huddled in the back like frightened quail.
Of course, they had their wands in hand—the only things that could offer them any sense of safety right now.
"Harry, what should we do?"
The footsteps outside seemed to be getting closer. Ron panicked and shook Harry's arm frantically, as if the Troll's footsteps weren't coming down the corridor but were pounding inside his heart.
"I don't know either."
Harry forced the words out through clenched teeth. His expression was awful.
After all, they were only first-years who had been at school for a few months. They really had no idea what to do in a situation like this.
"Bang!"
Suddenly, a tremendous crash shattered the last of Harry and the others' defenses.
The noise had come from the room next door.
In other words, the Troll was already close by!
"Eek!"
Startled by the noise, Pansy shuddered and let out a sound that even she found incredibly strange.
Without thinking, she grabbed Hermione's robe. The wand she held aloft trembled and swayed like a little branch tossed by the wind.
"Keep it together, princess. This is no time to scream your head off!"
Hermione wanted to scream too, but Pansy had beaten her to it.
She looked with distaste at the hand clutching her robe, took a deep breath, and desperately tried to recall the spells she had learned so far.
"Hmph!"
Realizing how undignified she'd been, Pansy hurriedly pulled her hand away, her cheeks bright red.
There were some things she could do, but admit to doing them? Never.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The monster's footsteps grew louder and clearer.
Everyone in the girls' bathroom bit down hard on their lips, silently awaiting their fate.
They prayed in silence, clinging to their last shred of hope as desperately as someone clutching at a floating straw.
Unfortunately, reality was always cruel.
"Bang!"
The wooden club in the Troll's hand shattered every last illusion.
"Ugh!"
Wood chips flew and splinters scattered as the Troll began to roar furiously.
"Ah!" "Help!" "Mum, save me!"
With their hopes dashed, the young wizards' mental defenses crumbled completely, and they began screaming at the top of their lungs.
Even Hermione and Pansy, who had been at each other's throats moments earlier, forgot their differences for the time being and instinctively clung to each other.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
The Troll swung its club and pounded the bathroom door again. The door couldn't withstand such a beating, and soon a huge hole had been smashed through it.
The smell of dead fish mixed with garlic flooded their nostrils, making them want to throw up.
But no one cared about that anymore, because the Troll had thrust an arm through the hole!
"Ah!"
Hermione was every bit the reckless Gryffindor at heart. At the sight of the thick, gray-skinned arm, she screamed and wildly waved her wand, sending out a string of sparks.
"Sizzle, sizzle."
Believe it or not, it worked. The Troll yelped in pain and really did pull its arm back.
"Phew."
Pansy and the others breathed a sigh of relief.
But their relief lasted only a few seconds. Enraged, the Troll began pounding the bathroom door again with its club.
Primitive and furious, its blows came like a raging storm!
The door, which already had a hole in it, now shattered completely. The young wizards, caught entirely unprepared, were left exposed to the Troll's gaze.
"Roar!"
The ugly Troll roared excitedly, a bloodthirsty grin spreading across its face!
"It's over."
As images of his brief life flashed before his eyes, Harry stared with tear-filled eyes, his heart full of resentment.
He had only just come out of the stairwell and seen the vast magical world. Was it really all going to end so soon, with him dying at the hands of a monster?
No!
He didn't want this!
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
When fear and resentment reached their limit, they rebounded. Harry roared out the only spell he knew, while his friend Ron stared at him in disbelief.
The Levitation Charm!
"Whoom!"
The spell's power acted on the Troll's wooden club, shifting it just a tiny bit.
While the Troll's sluggish brain was still trying to work out what had happened, Hermione sprang into action, using her specialty, the "Spark Spell."
"Ah!"
As the situation turned around, Ron pinched his thigh hard. With tears streaking his face, he raised his battered old wand as well.
Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley couldn't think of a single spell. In his panic, he spotted a mop in the corner of the bathroom, used for cleaning.
"I'll take you on!"
Ron was genuinely cowardly when he was scared, but he could be just as genuinely reckless when he got worked up.
Once he got carried away, he didn't think about anything else.
Roaring, he grabbed the mop and charged at the Troll, taking three steps in two!
Pansy and the Slytherin girls were dumbfounded.
"Roar!"
First it had nearly dropped its weapon, then sparks had singed its eyes. The Troll was furious.
And that wasn't all. While it had its eyes closed, trying to recover, someone had gone and hit it in the knee?
That was too much. It couldn't let that go!
The Troll swung its club and attacked wildly with its eyes shut. Ron, who had been targeting its lower body, paid the price.
The wind howled past his ears, and a chill shot up his spine to the back of his head. Mr. Weasley threw himself down and narrowly dodged the deadly club, landing sprawled on the floor in an undignified heap.
Seeing this, Harry and Hermione were beside themselves with worry.
Ron was in danger!
Just then, several uneven but remarkably clear incantations rang in their ears.
It was the Slytherin girls!
Truthfully, if they could help it, Pansy and the others would rather have stayed out of it.
Unfortunately, the Troll was blocking the bathroom entrance like a wall. There was no way they could escape.
With no other choice, they had to use the Levitation Charm that Professor Flitwick had once praised them for, just like Harry had, and join the fight.
With Pansy and the others helping, the pressure on Harry eased considerably, and Ron managed to save his own skin while the Troll was still bewildered.
"Hang in there! We can't stop!"
Although she was afraid, Hermione's mind was still clear.
She knew that their current "advantage" was only an illusory one.
The moment they let their guard down, the Troll would swing its club without mercy and hammer them into meat pies one by one!
"Mind your own business!"
Hearing that, Pansy gave a gritted, scornful snort, not daring to relax her control over the magic for even a moment.
Reading the situation was one of the Slytherins' strengths. Who needed a Gryffindor to butt in?