NOVEL NEXT Chapter 23: The Encounter
"I... I don't know..." Quirrell stammered, his face pale and his voice trembling. "I just saw the troll... rampaging in the basement. I didn't think it would go... wherever it is now!"
Dracula narrowed his eyes, studying Quirrell's face as if peeling back layers to uncover the truth. Quirrell fidgeted nervously, his gaze darting away under the weight of Dracula's stare.
"Alright," Dracula said at last, his voice calm but with a sharp edge. "But wherever you're sneaking off to next, be sure it's worth my attention." He gave Quirrell's shoulder a firm pat, his smile faint but far from reassuring.
Without waiting for a response, Dracula turned and left the auditorium. He made his way back to the quiet corridor by the entrance courtyard. He pulled out an ancient parchment from within his cloak—the Hogwarts title deed.
Holding it carefully, Dracula let his magic flow into the fragile document. The parchment shimmered faintly as his power combined with the enchantments left by the four founders. Slowly, an intricate map of Hogwarts Castle came to life, every detail etched onto the paper. Magical nodes glowed softly, showing the hidden workings of the castle, and the map filled in with vivid clarity.
Dracula's eyes swept across the magical map. He could see the students being led back to their common rooms by the prefects. They moved slowly, their faces still lit up with the excitement of the Halloween feast, though tinged with disappointment that it had ended so soon.
His attention shifted to Snape, who was walking toward the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor. There was no hesitation in his steps—he clearly had somewhere important to be.
Then there was Quirrell. He was still in the auditorium, standing stiffly near a giant pumpkin. He hadn't moved an inch. His blank, distant stare felt off—like someone trying a little too hard to act clueless.
Dracula frowned, but he didn't linger on it. He turned his focus back to the map, where the troll was stumbling around in the lower chambers of the castle. It knocked into walls and furniture, leaving a mess behind, but its movements seemed more confused than dangerous.
He was about to sit back and let the troll entertain him when something else caught his eye. Two figures were sneaking through the castle, their movements careful. Clearly they didn't want to be seen.
"Well, now," Dracula muttered to himself, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "What are you two up to?"
Without a second thought, he disappeared, leaving only the faintest ripple of air.
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The scene shifted back to the banquet. Harry was munching on a potato, the skin still intact, when Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, his face a mask of terror. In a panicked voice, he stammered about a troll loose in the dungeons before collapsing dramatically to the floor.
The Gryffindor prefect, Percy Weasley, quickly took charge. He rallied the Gryffindor students and began leading them toward their common room on the eighth floor, their path crossing briefly with a group of Hufflepuff students headed in a different direction.
As they walked up the staircase, Harry suddenly froze. A look of realization crossed his face and started panicking. He immediately grabbed Ron's arm.
"Hermione!" Harry blurted out, his voice tight with worry.
"What about her?" Ron asked, startled and slightly defensive.
It hadn't been a good day for Hermione. That morning in Charms class, her over-eagerness to help had rubbed Ron the wrong way. Frustrated, he had vented to Harry, saying that Hermione needed to figure out why she didn't have friends. Unknown to him, Hermione had overheard his not so ....kind words.
The typically confident and determined Hermione had been crushed. She hadn't shown up to any of the afternoon activities, nor had she come to the Halloween feast. Harry now remembered overhearing a conversation as they'd all rushed to the Great Hall earlier that evening. Parvati Patil had told Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and refusing to talk to anyone.
The realization suddenly hit Harry: Hermione didn't know about the troll.
"Ron, she doesn't know!" Harry said urgently. "It's our fault she missed the feast, and now she's in danger. We can't just leave her alone with that thing roaming the castle!"
Ron paused, looking guilty. He bit his lip, then finally nodded.
"Alright," he said with a resigned sigh, "but we've got to avoid Percy. If he catches us, we're done for."
The two boys quickly peeled away from the group, slipping into the flow of Hufflepuff students to avoid being seen. As soon as they could, they darted into a side corridor and began making their way toward the girls' bathroom.
The further they went, the stronger the stench became. It was vile, a sickening blend of unwashed socks and a neglected public toilet. Harry and Ron wrinkled their noses in disgust as they pressed on, the sound of heavy, dragging footsteps growing louder with each step.
A low, guttural muttering echoed in their ears, sending chills down their spines. As they turned a corner, they froze at the sight before them.
A hulking figure loomed before them.
The troll was massive, easily twelve feet tall, its skin a dull, rocky gray. Its body was absurdly disproportionate—like a pile of mismatched stones slapped together—with a tiny head perched on top. Its short legs, as thick as tree trunks, struggled to support its awkward frame, which swayed with each step.
In its massive, calloused hands, it gripped a wooden club almost as tall as it was. The club dragged along the stone floor, producing a sharp, grating sound that made Harry's stomach turn. The troll's rancid smell, along with its heavy movements, was nearly overwhelming.
For a moment, neither Harry nor Ron could move. Their hearts pounded in their chests as they stared at the creature and it was heading straight for the girls' bathroom.
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The Halloween feast had ended, and the thunderclouds conjured by the weather spells had cleared. Moonlight now poured through the towering windows of Hogwarts Castle, casting long shadows across the corridors.
In one of those shadows, a sleek, furred bat hung upside down, its bright eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Strangely, the bat seemed to be watching the events unfolding in a bathroom below with great interest.
Inside the girls' bathroom on the first floor, it was total chaos.
The troll, distracted after repeated taunts from Ron, had turned its attention away from Hermione. Unfortunately for Ron, it was now focused entirely on him, its massive figure cornering him against a wall.
Harry's heart raced when he saw Ron's situation. Without hesitating, he jumped into action.
Launching himself forward, Harry grabbed the troll's neck from behind. Clinging on tightly, he thrust his wand straight into one of the troll's nostrils.
The troll roared in pain, thrashing wildly as it tried to shake Harry off. It swung its massive club through the air, the wooden weapon coming dangerously close to hitting Harry. At any moment, the troll could yank Harry from its back and crush him with a single blow.
And then, just like that, the troll froze.
It stopped moving so suddenly that Harry, caught off guard, lost his grip and tumbled to the floor.
In the corner, Ron stood rooted to the spot, his wand still clenched in hand. His wide eyes darted between Harry and the now-motionless troll, unable to process what had just happened.
"Mr. Potter," a familiar voice drawled from the doorway. "In the future, if anyone asks, kindly leave me out of the list of people who've taught you Defense Against the Dark Arts. I have my pride, you know."
Harry's head shot up, his eyes widening in surprise. Standing in the moonlit doorway was none other than Professor Dracula, his silver hair catching the light and his crimson eyes gleaming with a hint of disdain.
"Professor Dracula!" Harry exclaimed, his voice filled with both relief and exhaustion.
But the rush of adrenaline was short-lived. Now that the immediate danger was gone, fear and fatigue washed over Harry. His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.
Dracula sighed and swept an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder. With deliberate steps, he walked over to where the three young wizards were huddled.
"Mr. Potter," he began, his tone calm but unimpressed. "Could you kindly remind me of the lesson I taught on the first day of class? Specifically, what I said about how to handle a dangerous situation?"
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