A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Late at night, in the Headmaster's Office.

"That girl nearly died."

Severus Snape, seated rigidly in a chair, broke the heavy silence. 

His voice was loud enough to rouse the portraits of former headmasters, who glared at him with annoyance. Snape, however, ignored their discontent.

"Do you have nothing to say about this?" he pressed, his black eyes fixed on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore lowered the issue of Transfiguration Today he had been reading and replied calmly, "I wasn't aware you had started caring about Miss Granger. Haven't you always disliked her?"

"This is not about personal feelings," Snape retorted irritably. "A student's death would force the school to close. I, for one, am not interested in… unemployment."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled faintly as if recalling another student who had once declared a desire to keep Hogwarts open, only to falsely accuse an innocent.

Noticing Dumbledore's distant expression, Snape rapped the desk sharply with his knuckles. "I don't believe that the great Albus Dumbledore could have failed to detect the troll's intrusion!"

Dumbledore folded his hands and responded evenly, "You give me too much credit, Severus. I am but a man, prone to oversight, just like anyone else."

Snape's scowl deepened. "This was no accident."

"Indeed, it was not," Dumbledore conceded, closing his book and adjusting his half-moon spectacles.

"During my investigation in the Forbidden Forest tonight, Gulu Gulu informed me that one of their own was missing."

"Gulu Gulu?" Snape frowned. "Who is that?"

"The chieftain of the troll clan nearest to Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied.

"He told me that a black-robed wizard recently appeared and abducted one of their tribe."

Snape's skeptical glare intensified. "Wait… are you telling me you can speak troll?"

"Trollspeak is a crude tongue," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I can manage basic communication. Didn't I mention this to you before?"

"Along with Trollspeak, I'm fluent in Mermish, Gobbledegook, and even Parseltongue."

Snape stared at Dumbledore, stunned. He knew the Headmaster was skilled, but this breadth of linguistic knowledge was simply astonishing.

"Wait—you understand Parseltongue?"

"I can only understand it, not speak it," Dumbledore clarified with a wink. "Learning a new language is always useful. If you're interested, I could give you some lessons."

"I'm not interested," Snape replied coldly, shutting down the offer.

Dumbledore sighed, slightly disappointed. "Anyway, Gulu Gulu informed me about their missing tribe member…"

Snape interrupted, "With all due respect, Headmaster, trolls aren't exactly known for their intellect. How would they even notice one was missing?"

Sipping his tea, Dumbledore replied, "Don't be so prejudiced, Severus. Exceptions exist in all things. Some trolls can understand basic human language and even speak a little."

Snape's patience wore thin. "Fine. In that case, I suppose Longbottom could be their leader."

"Severus, show some compassion," Dumbledore admonished. "You know why Neville struggles with his memory."

Snape huffed dismissively. "So, one troll goes missing, and it ends up at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "From Gulu Gulu's description and the memories I retrieved from him, a wizard attacked the tribe and captured a troll.

"That wizard underestimated the trolls, assuming them too stupid to remember or report him. He made no effort to conceal his appearance."

"Who was it?" Snape asked sharply.

"Quirrell."

Snape's eyes narrowed. Dumbledore had already warned him to keep an eye on Quirrell.

"Was he also the black-robed wizard who raided Gringotts?" Snape muttered, recalling Tywin's report from last year.

"Perhaps he was. Perhaps he wasn't," Dumbledore said cryptically.

Snape didn't appreciate the ambiguity. "If you know it's Quirrell, why allow him to remain at the school?"

"Because of Harry," Dumbledore said, his tone firm as he met Snape's gaze. "We must protect Harry, but we must also train him, sharpen him, and nurture his abilities.

"I set up the safeguards to challenge both Quirrell and Harry."

"What safeguards?" Snape pressed.

"I can't tell you that yet, Severus."

Snape stood after a moment of silence. "I don't care about your secrets, Headmaster. Just ensure no more such incidents occur."

Dumbledore said nothing. He couldn't promise there wouldn't be more accidents. Battling Voldemort would be far from risk-free. He was no Merlin, after all.

As Snape limped toward the door, Dumbledore pulled a small vial from his desk.

"The venom from Fluffy's bite prevents wounds from healing. Not even you or Madam Pomfrey can counteract it in time.

"Take this—it's phoenix tears."

Snape accepted the vial without a word. Earlier, when he had gone to replenish the potions William had taken, he had tried to bypass the Headmaster's office. 

Fluffy had bitten him when he attempted to enter.

It was clear that Quirrell had let the troll in as part of a trap, likely to test Dumbledore's response.

Unfortunately, Snape had been caught in the crossfire, suffering both the troll's hit and Fluffy's bite.

Snape exited in silence, and Dumbledore returned to his book. 

The office was quiet save for the sound of Fawkes nibbling on a cuttlebone.

…

The Halloween troll incident quickly faded from memory, leaving barely a ripple.

By November, the weather turned frigid. 

The surrounding mountains were blanketed in gray snow, the lake's surface frozen like tempered steel, and frost coated the ground each morning.

From the upper windows, students often spotted Hagrid trudging around the Quidditch pitch. 

Wrapped in a long coat of mole fur, wearing rabbit-fur gloves and massive beaver-skin boots, he cleared the frost off the broomsticks.

With November came the start of the Quidditch season.

Ravenclaw intensified their training sessions, determined to make a strong debut.

It wouldn't be easy. Their first match was against Hufflepuff.

William wasn't particularly worried, though. During his time in the time loop, he had joined the Hufflepuff team first, giving him intimate knowledge of their players.

He knew their strategies, common formations, and even individual strengths and weaknesses.

The only wild card was Cedric Diggory. If Cedric caught the Golden Snitch within the first five minutes, no amount of scoring from William could secure victory.

Thankfully, Cho Chang was Ravenclaw's Seeker. As an exceptionally talented seeker, she knew Cedric's game well and wouldn't allow him an easy win.

Under this tension-filled atmosphere, the first match of the year began.

[A/n: According to canon, Dumbledore can understand Parseltongue but cannot speak it. This was mentioned by J.K. Rowling in an interview at some point, though I can't find the exact source. Honestly, it's the kind of detail that adds complexity for fanfiction writers.

Of course, some might question, "Why didn't he hear it fifty years ago?" It's quite possible that Dumbledore hadn't learned it yet at that time and only began studying it after Voldemort opened the Chamber of Secrets. 

Of course, this part is just my own patchwork addition, commonly known as AU.]

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