Hermione wanted to say something caustic, but Richie raised his hand and whispered:
- Do you smell it?
Hermione sniffed and wrinkled her nose.
"Ugh!" Granger pinched her nose and continued in a nasal voice. "It smells like a mixture of unwashed socks and a public toilet that hasn't been cleaned in years."
- Shh!
Richie placed his index finger to his lips, silencing the girl. His eyes widened, and he gestured as if he were zipping up his mouth.
A terrible scraping sound came from the corridor, like someone dragging a log across the stone floor. The sound was getting closer.
Hermione went silent. This no longer seemed like a joke. Fear spread like a sticky web through her body, making her go numb. Afraid to even breathe, she watched Richard's actions in bewilderment.
Rich reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a toy robot-or at least that's what Granger initially thought. She couldn't even muster the energy to complain about the danger they were in, and Richie had decided to play with toys. But Hermione only thought that until Richie pointed his wand at the "toy," and it suddenly grew in size.
Hermione's eyes widened in amazement as she saw a robot from a sci-fi future. A two-meter-tall, humanoid colossus, steel armor, four flexible metal tentacles on its back, each tipped with three fingers, oval bulges on its forearms, and, for some reason, a poisonous orange color. Written in black on the robot's chest was:
CRAB-3PB
Hermione was then even more stunned. The plates on the robot's chest, arms, and legs slid apart, and Richard climbed into the resulting gap.
It all felt crazy to her. She'd only been thrown back into the Middle Ages a couple of months ago and now there was this high-tech suit of armor, like something out of a sci-fi movie or a video game.
Granger had a feeling Richie wasn't who he said he was. Maybe he wasn't even from here. Maybe he was some kind of time traveler… or something else entirely.
"Sorry, Hermione," Richard whispered, "I don't always carry the second suit of armor with me. Hide, I'll protect you."
What kind of hiding was there? Hermione's gaze was glued to the doorway, her head spinning from the stench that assaulted her senses, her body overcome with a tingling weakness at the sight of the monster who opened the door to the women's restroom.
It was a monstrous thing, about four meters tall, with dull granite skin, a lumpy body resembling a boulder, and a tiny bald head, more like a coconut.
The troll had short, tree-thick legs and flat, calloused feet. Its arms were much longer than its legs, like a gorilla's, so the giant club it held dragged behind it along the floor. And the smell! It could kill even worse than the club.
The troll paused at the doorway and, bending down, peered inside. Its long ears twitched, seemingly trying to make a decision. The process promised to drag on, as the troll's brain, judging by the size of its head, was tiny. However, Richard didn't give the monster time to finish the thought. Its loud, amplified voice rang out:
- Gentleman, how dare you barge into a women's restroom? Pervert!!!
Standing against the wall opposite the door, Hermione cowered so tightly it seemed she was trying to emanate through the wall like a ghost. She looked as if she was about to faint. The girl closed her eyes at the loud, furious scream of the troll, who was struck four times with swift, powerful blows from the steel tentacles of the robot controlled by Richie.
The troll was thrown into the corridor. Before he could recover, he received a coordinated blow from four tentacles, striking the bells and furniture covered by a well-worn leather loincloth.
The troll howled, this time in a thin voice. He dropped his club with a crash, fell to his knees, and doubled over. Tears poured from his small eyes.
"OOO-OOO-OOO!" he moaned in a drawn-out, squeaky voice.
But in Hermione's head, for some reason, something completely different sounded: "My bells!" And it wasn't that Granger had suddenly learned to understand the language of trolls, she just had a rich imagination.
Richard, clad in armor, stepped into the corridor with a metallic clang and shaking the floor, and again attempted to strike with his flexible manipulators. But the troll roared furiously and grabbed two steel tentacles with its powerful hands. Rising abruptly to its feet, the giant hurled Richard against the wall. A terrible metallic screech echoed-and the troll found two ragged manipulators in its hands. Hermione, terrified and heartbroken, expected to hear the crash of the robot crashing into the wall, but it didn't happen. The steel armor froze in midair, hovering like a magical broom.
The armor flew up to a height of five meters, resting its helmet-head on the high ceiling, and fell down, feet first, right on the troll's head.
"Dirty pervert!" Richard's voice came from the speakers. "Do you like peeping at little girls in the bathroom? We don't like that around here!"
The troll staggered and fell to the floor with such force that the walls shook. The robot's weight, falling just a meter from the troll's head, was enough to deal a crushing blow to the giant.
Richie, clad in orange armor, continued to levitate. He pointed his hands toward the troll, and two streams of white, viscous liquid, the consistency of thick sour cream, hissed from the growths on his forearms. Within moments, the gray giant's body was drenched in the liquid and glued to the floor.
"Now that's what I call a cumshot!" Richard commented. "Hermione, let's run!"
Granger couldn't feel her legs. Her muscles were like cotton wool, preventing her from taking a single step.
The slamming of doors and loud footsteps made the girl look up. She hadn't even realized how much noise had been generated. Someone must have heard the loud bangs and the troll's screams.
Richard flew into the toilet, landed, quickly jumped out of his armor, shrunk it, and stowed it in his bag. Then he pulled out a green glider in the shape of a wing platform, which instantly grew in size. Scooping Hermione up in his arms, Richie jumped on the glider and took off. With a wave of his wand, he transfigured the window into sand, which immediately ran down with a rustling sound. Ducking low, the pair of first-years flew out into the street.