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Edward tilted his head back and chugged the entire bottle of potion in one go.

He was certain that drinking it would boost his physical condition, pushing him closer to the level needed to advance his Knight's Breathing Technique.

The potion looked a bit thick and viscous, but it went down surprisingly smooth, gliding effortlessly down Edward's throat and into his stomach.

His stomach, however, wasn't quite as pleased.

If he had to describe it, it felt like he'd just swallowed a boiling pot of spicy hotpot with extra chili oil—like his insides were on fire.

Edward's organs felt like they were burning. He had no choice but to focus on his Knight's Breathing Technique to dull the searing pain the potion brought.

But he could tell that, after enduring the burning for a while, the potion seed to break down in his stomach, spreading through his veins and nerves, flowing toward every part of his body.

More than that, a surge of energy shot up his spine, rushing toward his brain, leaving him montarily disoriented.

Who am I? Where am I? What was I doing again?

The confusion was fleeting, though, and Edward's mind snapped back to clarity.

Almost at the sa ti, he felt the potion had been fully absorbed.

This gave Edward so insight into the Troll's Strength Potion. It was indeed dangerous—if the formula wasn't perfect or if the supplentary ingredients were lacking, it could easily fail to neutralize the troll essence's damage to the nervous system.

The result? The user's brain could end up as muddled as a troll's, dumb as a rock.

But with Edward's natural talent and Snape's ticulous oversight, the potion was practically flawless.

Now, Edward's physical condition had improved across the board. This didn't an he suddenly had the strength to punch through walls like a troll.

Instead, it was his baseline attributes—bone density, muscle strength, resistance to injury, endurance—that had leveled up.

Most importantly, that suffocating bottleneck he'd felt with the Breathing Technique was gone.

This ant he could finally push toward the Second-Tier Knight's Breathing Technique!

And progress would co quickly, since all his prior foundational training hadn't been for nothing.

Thank you, Potions Mastery. Thank you, Professor Snape. And, well, thanks to whoever let that troll into the castle!

Edward chuckled to himself, but his brow furrowed.

He desperately wanted more fresh troll materials, but not at the expense of putting other students in danger.

Even though he'd gotten what he wanted, he couldn't stop wondering: How did that troll get into Hogwarts?

It's not like a troll was just wandering aimlessly in the Scottish Highlands, happened to stumble near Hogwarts, and—feeling an urgent call of nature—decided to pop into the second-floor bathroom, right?

This had to be deliberate. But who could've done it?

A student? What kind of student would pull a Halloween prank like that? Even the Weasley twins, pranksters extraordinaire, wouldn't touch sothing this reckless.

A staff mber? But what would their motive be?

Edward's mind wandered. He thought of Professor Snape and the injury on his leg.

Only a powerful magical creature could injure a professor, right? And, conveniently, there was a three-headed dog guarding sothing in the fourth-floor corridor.

Could Snape have orchestrated this to distract everyone while he slipped off to the fourth floor?

The thought barely ford before Edward shook his head, dismissing it entirely.

No way.

Professor Snape was a good man. Sure, he was harsh with students, but if he was really hiding a leg injury, he wouldn't have dragged Edward to his office for a scolding.

It had to be soone else.

But no matter how hard Edward racked his brain, he couldn't figure out who. With that, he pushed open the door to the common room.

A crowd had already gathered around the roaring fireplace.

At the center was Malfoy, basking in his own glory as he recounted his latest exploits.

"Where was I? Oh, right—Edward was nearly grabbed by that troll, but I cast a spell to distract it."

"We got there after the troll was already down," Daphne interjected coolly from the side, cutting him off. "When exactly did you cast this spell?"

Her spot by the fire gave her a clear view of the common room door.

"Oh, look, our hero's finally back," she said.

All heads turned, and the room erupted in cheers.

"Oi!!!"

"Look who's here!"

"Edward, our Slytherin King!!!"

The Slytherin common room had never been this lively in all its history.

Students rushed forward, surrounding Edward.

"We heard from Draco—you took down a troll!" Pansy Parkinson, her short hair bouncing, was the first to ask.

"Tell us, what did it look like? Was it uglier than Flint?" a fourth-year Edward didn't know piped up.

He barely finished before a tall, troll-like boy—Marcus Flint himself—dragged him outside for a beating.

Edward had to admit, the guy did bear a slight resemblance to a troll.

Sward by eager Slytherins and their barrage of questions, Edward felt a bit overwheld.

Finally, Gemma stepped in to quiet the crowd, though she was clearly just as curious, mainly wanting to snag a pri spot next to Edward.

"Tell us about it," she said, ushering him to the sofa by the fire and opening a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "We've all heard fairy tales and ghost stories since we were kids, but a first-year taking down a troll? That's sothing new."

"What did Snape want with you?" Daphne asked, lounging on the sofa closest to Edward, casually twirling her hair but listening intently.

"Tell them how I stord into the girls' bathroom to save you!" Malfoy winked, practically begging Edward to boost his reputation.

"Quiet, Draco. Edward's about to start," soone said.

Surrounded by classmates—so feigning indifference, others brimming with excitent—Edward gazed at the firelight reflecting in their eyes, feeling their heartbeats. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Where to begin?" he said, grabbing a nearby Cauldron Cake. "So, I was studying near the second-floor girls' bathroom this afternoon. After dark, I heard so unusual vibrations in the corridor outside—"

The storm raging outside the castle, the churning waves of the Black Lake—they had nothing to do with the Slytherin common room. This was, without a doubt, the most unforgettable Halloween the Slytherins had ever had.

When the crowd finally lost interest in Edward's story, stuffed with snacks and ready to head to their dorms, Edward called out to the two lingering at the back.

He looked into their puzzled eyes, grinning.

"Thanks for coming to help, Daphne, Draco."

"If Daphne hadn't dragged , I wouldn't have gone," Malfoy muttered, his cheeks slightly red as he turned away. "My father will hear about this! A troll in the castle? Ridiculous!"

"I was just giving you a heads-up, not helping," Daphne said, grabbing the last pack of Honeydukes sweets and waving lazily at them. "See you tomorrow, boys."

So stubborn, both of you, Edward thought.

Sure, a lot of great things had happened today, but on this late October Halloween, this mont was easily the best.

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