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At the end of the corridor stood a tightly locked door. It looked old and a bit worn. As they reached it, Neville, pale from all the running, looked utterly hopeless."
"What do we do now? It's locked," he muttered, glancing instinctively at Augustus, as if momentarily forgetting he was a wizard too.
"Oh, come on!" Hermione snapped. She snatched Neville's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"
Click! The lock popped open, and the door swung wide. They all rushed in and slammed it shut behind them. Harry leaned against the cold door, gasping for breath.
This day just kept getting worse. First he lost the duel to Malfoy, then got caught by Filch—the guy who lives to catch students breaking rules—and now this? Could things possibly get any worse?
"I think we're safe now—move, Neville!" Harry said irritably. Neville had been tugging at his sleeve."What?" Harry turned—and froze.
He saw it. Clear as day. For a moment, he thought he must be in some kind of nightmare. After everything that had happened today, this was just too much.
They weren't in a normal room like Harry had thought. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the fourth floor. And now they understood why it was forbidden.
Staring straight at them was a monstrous dog—so big it filled the space from floor to ceiling. And not just one head. Three heads. Three pairs of wild, menacing eyes. Three twitching, sniffling noses. Three drooling mouths, saliva dripping like thick, slimy ropes from its yellowed fangs.
It stood completely still, all six eyes locked onto them. Harry realized the only reason they weren't dead yet was because the thing was still stunned by their sudden appearance. But it was coming to its senses fast, and from the way it started growling—deep, deafening roars—it was very clear what was coming next.
Unlike the others, who were all frozen in terror, Augustus looked rather thoughtful at the beast. A three-headed dog, he mused. Intriguing.
A hellhound, he thought. A subspecies of demonic guard dog from the underworld. Weaker than most underworld creatures, but still... who'd have thought Hogwarts had one just hanging around?
Harry's hand had already shot toward the doorknob. Without a word, Augustus subtly flicked his wand, muttering a quiet incantation under his breath.
He didn't know exactly what the dog was guarding, but he clearly had no intention of poking too deep into Hogwarts' secrets.
No one noticed him casting the subtle spell, but once they saw the three-headed dog suddenly tilt its heads in confusion, they quickly put two and two together.
Harry yanked the door open, and while the dog was still dazed, they all sprinted out of the room as fast as they could.
Back in the corridor, they scattered in all directions. Filch was probably still searching for them somewhere else—they didn't run into him again. The terrifying, adrenaline-filled night slowly settled into each of their memories.
Halloween arrived. The Great Hall was decked out in dazzling decorations. A thousand bats flapped across the walls and ceiling, while another thousand swirled overhead like low, dark storm clouds. The candle flames inside the floating pumpkins flickered with every gust of bat wings.
Delicious food appeared on the golden plates, just like at the Welcome Feast.
Augustus ate slowly, savoring his first Halloween at Hogwarts. Malfoy, clearly used to Crabbe and Goyle's disgusting eating habits by now, absentmindedly poked at his mashed potatoes while watching the pumpkin lights.
Suddenly, Professor Quirrell burst into the Hall, scarf askew and panic written all over his face. Everyone turned to stare as he staggered over to Dumbledore's chair, leaned on the table, and gasped out,"Troll—in the dungeons—I thought you ought to know."
Then he collapsed face-first onto the floor.
The Great Hall exploded into chaos. Dumbledore calmly pointed his wand into the air and let off several loud, firework-like bangs until the students quieted down. Then he started directing the prefects to lead everyone back to their dormitories.
Augustus was about to help lead the first-years when Harry and Ron came running up to him in a panic.
"Hermione—Hermione's on the third floor! She doesn't know about the troll—she could be in real danger!" Harry gasped.
"Who cares about that Mudblood," Malfoy sneered, though his voice wavered slightly.
"Shut it, Draco. Harry, I'll come with you. The third floor is pretty close to the dungeons—the troll might head that way," Augustus said, frowning. "Lilian, watch the others," he added, turning to a nearby Ravenclaw. After a quick nod to her, he rushed off with Harry and Ron toward the third floor.
Blending into a crowd of Hufflepuffs, the three of them slipped away in the opposite direction. They crept through an empty side corridor and hurried toward the girls' bathroom.
Just as they rounded a corner, Harry sniffed and grimaced. A foul stench hit his nose—like sweaty socks mixed with a public restroom that had never been cleaned. Then they heard it: low grumbling and the sound of massive feet dragging along the floor.
Ron spotted it first—at the far end of a hallway to their left. A giant figure was lumbering toward them. They ducked into the shadows and watched as the thing came into view under a shaft of moonlight.
It was terrifying. Twelve feet tall, skin dull and gray like granite, with a bulky, clumsy body that looked like a pile of muddy rocks. Its head was tiny, like a cocoa bean stuck on top. Its short legs were thick as tree stumps, ending in flat, callused feet.
The stench it gave off was unbearable. It dragged a massive wooden club behind it, its long arms making it scrape noisily along the ground.
What a weird world this was, Augustus thought, a slight smile playing on his lips at the sight of the dumb-looking troll. The troll scratched its head, looked around, saw no one, and stopped beside a door. It peeked inside, flopped its ears, made a decision, and slowly ducked into the room.
Harry rushed up, grabbed the key, and slammed the door shut. Click! Locked tight.
"Got it!" Harry grinned at Augustus, clearly proud of himself.
But just as they were about to head back, a shrill, terrified scream rang out from inside the room.
"Oh no," Ron said, going pale as Nearly Headless Nick."That's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.
"No time to talk," Augustus said, pulling out his wand and blasting the door open. The three of them charged in.
Hermione was huddled against the far wall, looking like she was about to faint. The troll was lurching toward her, smashing sinks off the wall as it moved.
Harry and Ron stared helplessly at Augustus, unsure what to do.
Augustus stayed calm. The troll was less than ten feet from Hermione when a jet of green sparks shot from the tip of Augustus's wand, striking the troll's arm.
It shot forward and hit the troll squarely, immediately corroding parts of its body. A basic acid splash spell—perfect for grabbing a monster's attention.
The troll howled in pain and turned, eyes full of rage, and charged straight at Augustus with its massive club.
The whole bathroom shook under the troll's steps. The wind from its charge made Harry and Ron squint against the pressure. Then, through their narrowed eyes, they saw something incredible.
Dozens of thin, red sparks erupted around Augustus, lashing out with surprising speed. They struck the troll repeatedly, causing it to stumble backward.
The red sparks tore into it, and in seconds, all that was left was a pile of mangled flesh on the floor. A few big chunks still vaguely resembled body parts, but most of it was unrecognizable.
The girls' bathroom was a wreck—chunks of stone everywhere, half the room destroyed by the blast of red beams.
Harry and Ron stood with their mouths hanging open. Hermione had stopped crying. The whole room was filled with an eerie silence.
"....."