Oh No, the Troll is in Danger!

When Hermione said Glenn was still downstairs, Harry and Ron didn't bother saying anything more and headed straight down.

On the way, a small incident occurred—they ran into Snape.

This was a bit strange, because once the Halloween feast started, all the staff should have been eating at the same table.

But now he wasn't with the other teachers; instead, he was lingering near the dungeon classroom where the troll had appeared...

Now wasn't the time to dwell on it, though. Every second they delayed, the more dangerous things became for Glenn.

"How could he be in the dungeon classroom?" Ron panted as they hurried down the stairs.

Hearing this, Hermione quickened her pace.

But her coordination wasn't great, and she nearly twisted her ankle on the steps.

"I don't think that matters. What matters is getting there as fast as we can," Harry said, glancing at Hermione as he took the stairs two or three at a time.

Ron opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he stayed quiet.

Though they were young, that didn't mean they were stupid.

Given everything that had happened today, plus Hermione's relatively calm state and the fact that she'd come up from downstairs, it wasn't hard to piece together what had occurred.

Most likely, after Ron had made Hermione cry earlier, she'd found Glenn—or Glenn had happened upon her crying and comforted her.

After all, aside from Neville, there probably wasn't anyone else willing to talk to her much. And if she'd gone to Neville to vent, she'd probably have ended up comforting him instead.

As the three of them rushed along, they soon reached the dungeon classroom Hermione had mentioned.

But Harry quickly frowned and sniffed. A foul stench invaded his nostrils—a mix of dirty socks and a public toilet that had never been cleaned.

Then, from behind the half-closed door, came a low grumble and the sound of heavy feet dragging across the floor.

Forgetting their earlier quarrel, they exchanged glances, and only one thought remained in their minds:

It's over!

The next moment, with a roar, a deafening crash echoed from inside the classroom.

Like a heavy hammer slamming into the ground, it also seemed to slam into their hearts, making them pound wildly, as if trying to escape their helpless bodies.

Hermione covered her mouth. Her eyes reddened instantly, and her trembling throat couldn't form a single complete syllable.

Ron's face turned deathly pale. His usual chatterbox nature failed him; he couldn't even muster the strength to open his mouth.

Having never faced anything like this, after hearing that crash, Ron couldn't even bring himself to push open the half-closed door, let alone imagine what was happening inside. It took immense courage just to try...

In that moment, he finally realized:

If Glenn had been smashed into a pulp, he would bear an inescapable responsibility—a responsibility he would never forgive himself for.

Breathing heavily, Harry said nothing. He stepped forward and walked toward the classroom.

Fear was cast aside by the heat of the moment. He only knew that if he didn't go now, he would regret it forever.

But when the classroom door swung open, Harry saw a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life.

A wizard's magical strength depends not only on talent but also on many post-birth factors.

Life experience and the emotions it brings, daily diet, and whether one has received training from an excellent teacher...

Among these, age is a very important factor.

"A wizard's magic grows stronger with age"—that was a rough description written in the textbooks.

And it was indeed true.

As for something like ancient magic, besides requiring immense talent, it also demanded that the wizard reach a certain age to be able to withstand that power.

In Hogwarts terms, that was roughly the fifth year.

So the previous two guardians of ancient magic, Percival Rackham and Isidora Morganach, as well as Glenn later on—all three wizards gifted in using ancient magic—were only discovered by Hogwarts in their fifth year and invited to enroll as transfer students.

If you only measured the quantity of magic, then the longer you lived, the more magic you had.

But when it came to combat strength, living longer didn't necessarily mean a wizard was stronger.

A strong physique and quick thinking were also decisive factors in victory or defeat.

The moment the troll raised its club, a red circle-like thing appeared in front of Glenn's left side—his instinctive perception of danger.

Bang!

As the club came down, a wooden student desk was smashed to pieces, splinters flying everywhere.

Amid the scattered debris, the troll's small black eyes showed confusion.

It missed!

As mentioned during the Sorting—trolls are all very clumsy.

And unfortunately, an eleven-year-old child was right at the most energetic and agile stage of adolescence.

The Slytherin robe fluttered lightly. In the dust, Glenn had somehow already reached the side of the troll holding the club.

The oak wand pressed against the troll's waist.

"Let me think, where did Professor Flitwick leave off?" Glenn mused.

Lumos, the Levitation Charm...

Glenn moved the oak wand away from the troll's waist, aiming it instead at the club in its hand.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The next moment, the club shot upward, dragging the troll, still clinging to it, into a brutal headbutt against the ceiling.

The massive impact sent years of accumulated dust raining down like a storm.

Despite the searing pain in its head, the troll's tiny brain seemed incapable of grasping what had happened. Not only did it refuse to drop the club, but it also snarled at Glenn.

Just then, the half-open classroom door was pushed open by Harry, his face set with grim determination.

He had steeled himself to fight for his friends, but the scene before him left his brain momentarily short-circuiting.

Scattered desk fragments on the floor, small craters gouged into the ground, Glenn apparently lost in thought, and the troll clinging to the ceiling like a spider with its wooden club...

What in the world was going on?!

Before he could react, he felt himself bumped.

Snapping back to reality, he saw Hermione already charging inside.

Though the hand holding her wand trembled, she was prepared to be hurt—or worse.

But when she took in the classroom's state, her forward momentum ground to a halt.

She looked at Glenn, then at the troll still howling on the ceiling, and for a moment, had no idea what to do.

"Hey! What's going on in there... oh my god!" Ron, squeezing in behind Harry, bit his lip, but after a brief glance, he began to doubt everything he saw.

"Did I come in the wrong way?"

No one answered him. Glenn nodded, as if recalling something.

Professor Flitwick, while teaching the Levitation Charm, had briefly mentioned a spell that could work in tandem with it.

Though he hadn't actually taught it, the mere mention meant it was usable.

The trigger was that Flitwick's excellent lecture had sparked Glenn's own interest in learning.

With that thought, Glenn pointed his wand at the troll on the ceiling and slashed it downward sharply:

"Descendo!"