Because Hermione didn’t have many close friends, the other Gryffindors didn’t imdiately notice she wasn’t among them—let alone that she hadn’t shown up for dinner.
What had originally been a simple case of skipping a al suddenly beca a terrifying situation the mont the mountain troll appeared in the second-floor corridor—especially for Hermione.
“Why is it here? If what’s written in Hogwarts: A History is true, then the entire area around the castle should be protected by enchantnts.”
When Hermione stepped out to investigate the noise, the first thing she saw was a massive troll dragging a giant wooden club toward her.
Her first reaction, like Draco’s earlier, was to imdiately question everything she was seeing...
Frozen in fear for a mont, Hermione didn’t react until the troll’s gaze landed on her. Then, jolted back to her senses, she spun around and slamd the bathroom door shut behind her.
Leaning against the door, cold sweat trickled down her back.
“Stay calm! I need to stay calm! Think—what spell can I use right now?”
Though she kept telling herself to calm down, her trembling body betrayed her rising panic—and she couldn’t think of a single useful spell.
After all, while Hermione had taught herself a lot of magical theory, most of it was simple household charms.
Things like unlocking doors or fixing broken objects.
The spells taught in class so far were barely more advanced—turning matches into needles, or using the Levitation Charm to move small items.
As for Defense Against the Dark Arts?
Completely out of the question...
To put it simply, the young witch was now in a perilous situation, with only one hope—that the not-so-bright mountain troll hadn’t actually noticed her.
But then again—
Who ever said pretty girls always get lucky?
Boom!
With a violent crash, the bathroom door was ripped open—
And the hulking form of the troll shoved its massive body inside...
...
He possessed magical power far beyond that of his peers.
And on top of that, he had already mastered nonverbal casting and wandless spells—both of which Hermione considered advanced magic.
He could halt heavy objects in midair with a powerful Levitation Charm.
This was the Draco Hermione knew.
To put it simply, in Hermione’s mind, Draco was just a slightly more gifted student.
But with ti, she believed she wouldn’t fall too far behind—and she even had the confidence to catch up to him.
And yet here he was—the sa Draco she thought of as just a student—appearing behind the troll that had smashed through the bathroom door?
“Why... are you here too?!”
Hermione had been holding her breath, hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound, trying to make herself invisible.
But the mont she saw the pale-gold figure behind the troll, she nearly scread.
If she had expected anyone to show up in ti, it wouldn’t have been Draco. She would’ve guessed a professor. Maybe even the headmaster.
Certainly not a fellow student.
Was he here to die with her?
Yet when Draco saw the shock on Hermione’s face and confird she wasn’t hurt, his anger eased slightly. He exhaled in relief without realizing it.
Loosening his tie, he gave her a faint smile.
“Why? Obviously—I ca looking for a lost little kitten.”
“.........”
Hermione stared at him, dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe Draco had the nerve to wave at her, even teasing her at a ti like this.
She glanced again at the troll, still lumbering toward her, to confirm it wasn’t so kind of illusion.
Once she was sure, the little witch shot Draco a fierce eye roll.
...
While the two were in their own world, chatting as if danger weren’t inches away, the troll—left montarily ignored—seed to realize there was sothing in its mouth.
It let out a furious roar and started swinging its wooden club violently.
“Rrraaaargh!”
Crash!
Splinters flew through the air, a clear sign of the troll’s brute strength.
Its gaze may have been vacant, but the malice behind it was unmistakable.
Finally, Hermione snapped out of it. This wasn’t the ti to stand around.
“Quick, go get a professor! I’ll hold it off!”
...
Draco saw the redness and swelling around her eyes—yet she still stood firm, wand raised and pointed at the troll.
And for so reason, it sparked a flicker of anger inside him.
Anger at whatever had reduced Hermione to this.
And anger at her for underestimating him.
“You idiot, what exactly do you think I’m doing here?”
“Huh? What?”
“I’m not the kind of guy who runs off and leaves a girl behind.”
“Stop saying stupid things and go get help!”
Hermione’s voice cracked, full of panic and frustration.
And don’t think she hadn’t heard him call her “idiot” multiple tis...
Still.
Even though her words were firm, Draco wasn’t wrong—she could barely hold her wand steady, let alone stall a troll.
As Hermione stared, frozen again, the troll raised its massive club and swung it down toward them.
And then—
Draco’s deep, composed voice rang out beside her.
“Sectumsempra.”
It was as if reality itself split open.
Burst pipes sprayed water in all directions, the spray catching the light as it misted the air.
But for so reason, the water had turned an eerie, dark green...
And the troll’s club—mid-swing—stopped in place, frozen. Refusing to fall.
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