Troll

The first-floor corridor rapidly fell silent as the students left.

Only the pumpkin lantern light spilling from the Great Hall retained a trace of warmth. Everything else was quiet and deep with shadows.

A strange sound echoed through the corridor—

"Clack-clack-clack-clack..."

Then, Vaughn suddenly appeared out of thin air. He looked speechlessly at the air beside him. "Why are you shaking?"

Ron's nasal, tearful voice came from that patch of air. "I'm scared... Didn't you hear? It's a troll!"

"Thanks for the reminder, Ronald, but I was the one who told you that. Didn't I say I'd protect you? I even cast a Disillusionment Charm on you."

As he spoke, Vaughn leaned out to look toward the Great Hall.

The flickering light from there shone into his eyes, making them shift between light and shadow.

Though he had never deliberately tried to change anything.

Vaughn knew that his very existence had already disturbed Harry's fate.

Everything happening at Hogwarts now differed in many ways from the novel he had once read. Of course, Vaughn also understood that while some things could easily be changed, others were destined to happen.

For instance, Voldemort wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone!

As long as the Philosopher's Stone remained at Hogwarts, and as long as Voldemort still needed it, the Halloween incident would be almost impossible to change.

Causing trouble on Halloween was the best opportunity. Only then would all the young wizards be gathered together, making them easy to manage. Only then would Dumbledore and the professors feel safe leaving to focus on handling the emergency.

Quirrell would not give up such an opportunity.

Sure enough, just as Vaughn had expected, Quirrell had still let the troll into Hogwarts.

Now, it depended on whether he had the nerve to go to the fourth floor...

After waiting a while longer, Vaughn finally saw a figure sneak out of the Great Hall. It was Quirrell, who had pretended to faint earlier—the enormous turban was far too distinctive.

He looked around for a moment, and after confirming that all the professors had left, hurried upstairs.

Vaughn let out a quiet breath. One reason he wanted to confirm this was to see whether he might have a chance to get close to the Philosopher's Stone. The other was to find out—

Without obtaining unicorn blood, what state was Socket Hero in now?

After watching Quirrell disappear up the stairs, Vaughn was about to say something to Ron when he heard Ron tremble beside him and cry out in terror:

"How can you, you protect me from something like that?"

Vaughn turned around. He had already seen it: at the corner ahead, a gigantic creature at least twelve feet tall emerged, carrying a wooden club. Its skin was dull and gray, like stone.

The massive creature had a powerful body, like a moving hill. Even though its tiny head perched on its shoulders looked rather ridiculous.

Its enormous size still gave off an overwhelming sense of pressure!

Mum... I might really die...

Ron began to cry inwardly. He knew it—whenever Vaughn wore that kind of smile, nothing good ever followed. He never should have taken the chance and agreed to come with Vaughn.

The only consolation was that he had at least told Harry his last words over lunch!

"...Our luck isn't very good."

Hearing the sound of teeth chattering in the air beside him grow louder and louder—loud enough to catch the troll's attention—Vaughn sighed.

"Honestly, Ronald, maybe you shouldn't call me big brother anymore."

He slowly drew his wand. The troll opposite them had already spotted him. It panted excitedly and strode quickly toward him.

It was walking, but with the troll's size and stride, it was practically in front of them in the blink of an eye.

Its enormous wooden club rose high.

Ron nearly screamed.

Then he saw Vaughn raise his wand. The face Ron usually feared showed not the slightest hesitation or cowardice.

"Reducto!"

Bang!

The club, which had cut through the air with a violent whistle, shattered beneath the powerful spell. Then came two more spells in rapid succession.

"Diffindo!"

"Diffindo!"

The spell-light streaked through the darkness like lightning.

It struck the troll heavily, blasting up clouds of dust and debris. The disrupted airflow made the candle flames on the walls flicker.

Only then did the stupid troll react. It opened its mouth, wanting to scream, wanting to roar.

But the instant it opened its mouth, Ron heard Vaughn rapidly cast another spell:

"Bombarda!"

Some invisible, hidden force shot forth, and the air itself seemed to turn cold for an instant!

The next moment...

Ron watched as the troll's teeth and tongue suddenly exploded.

The instant they turned into a mush of rotten flesh, another identical spell struck, and its fragile mouth bones could no longer withstand the force.

Pfft—

With a muffled blast, the troll's upper jaw and part of its head flew off, reeking blood spraying everywhere.

Thud!

The troll's head hit the ground and rolled toward them.

Its tiny, bewildered eyes blinked a few times before seeming to understand its fate. Its pupils dilated, and the light faded from them.

Gulp!

Ron swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from clamping his legs together.

In just a few seconds, the ups and downs had been far too thrilling. His mind was completely blank.

Dealing with a troll was hardly difficult for Vaughn.

Aside from their skin's relatively strong resistance to spells, these stupid creatures had nothing going for them.

If he had not wanted to finish it quickly and keep the commotion to a minimum, Vaughn had plenty of ways to toy with it.

With a flick of his wand, he removed Ron's Disillusionment Charm. The instant the spell was lifted, Ron collapsed onto the ground with a thump.

Vaughn looked at him. "Did you piss yourself?"

With his dignity on the line, Ron finally came to his senses before he could nod.

His face flushed red as he stammered and tried to puff out his chest. "N-No!"

Vaughn could not be bothered with him. He plucked out a strand of hair and muttered an incantation. The hair immediately burst into flame.

He patted the ashes onto Ron's neck and instructed, "This magic will last for one hour. Go guard the basement exit for me. If the professors come out, quietly say my name, and I'll know."

Ron's newly puffed-out chest immediately deflated again. He looked at Vaughn pleadingly. "Where are you going?"

Vaughn did not care whether he agreed. Amid Ron's cry of pain, he plucked out another one of Ron's hairs.

Repeating the same process, he patted the ashes from the burned hair onto his own throat.

He continued, "If the professors haven't come out, and you hear me say your name, hurry down and find Dumbledore. Got it?"

Seeing that Vaughn ignored his question, Ron knew he had no way to refuse and could only nod in agreement.

Once everything had been arranged, Vaughn touched his trouser pocket before following the route Quirrell had just taken upstairs.

In truth, having Ron stand watch was merely Vaughn's habitual caution. He did not expect it to be of much use.

The thing that gave him the confidence to follow Quirrell—or rather, Voldemort—was sitting right in his pocket!