"You should leave now—the troll's about to wake up," Sean said.
A low, guttural rumble came from the troll's throat. Ron jumped.
Snape shot Quirrell a sharp glance, then swept away in a swirl of black robes.
"You three are ridiculously lucky," Sean said as they walked out.
Harry couldn't hold back his curiosity.
"Don't you think it's strange? A troll… inside Hogwarts?"
Sean gave him a meaningful look.
"That's something you'll have to figure out yourselves."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances.
They both understood—
This wasn't simple.
—
Back in the Slytherin common room—
Chris immediately approached him.
"What happened to the troll?"
"Oh, that?" Sean shrugged. "Knocked out by Harry Potter and his friends."
Chris and Cassius exchanged looks.
"…He's really that strong?"
"Does that mean Gryffindor might rise again?" Cassius muttered.
Slytherin had dominated for years—House Cup, Quidditch—
Unchallenged.
Now Harry Potter had arrived.
Famous.
And apparently capable.
Sean spread his hands.
"I am a Slytherin. I'm not giving up first place so easily."
Chris snorted.
"Oh? You care about house pride now?"
"I've earned plenty of points in Potions and Defense," Sean argued.
Chris raised an eyebrow.
"You also love tutoring that Gryffindor—Hermione. She earns the most points in first year."
"…I still earn more than her."
"That was before. Now you only attend two classes."
Sean froze.
"…Right."
Awkward smile.
Chris folded her arms.
"You should focus on helping our first-years."
Sean thought for a moment.
"…Draco?"
"Exactly."
"…Fine. I'll teach him at the Ouroboros meeting this weekend."
—
Meanwhile—
The troll had been recaptured and locked back in the dungeon.
"Snape's potion shouldn't have worn off so soon," McGonagall frowned.
For magical creatures—
Potions often worked better than spells.
The troll had been unconscious the entire time—
Until Quirrell woke it.
Quirrell forced a stiff smile.
"Y-yes… perhaps the dosage was too low…"
He wouldn't dare say that in front of Snape.
—
Snape wasn't injured.
Harry didn't suspect him.
But the trio?
Still troublemakers.
—
That very night—
They opened the forbidden door.
Inside—
Fluffy.
Sleeping.
They nearly died of fright—
And ran for their lives.
—
Two days later—
Saturday.
The Quidditch season opener:
Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.
The tournament used a point system—
Each house played the others once.
Top two advanced to the final.
—
Before the match, Sean told Cassius:
"Just do your best."
On the field—
He couldn't help.
Not without cheating.
And Harry?
He was genuinely talented.
Plus—
Slytherin's captain, Marcus Flint, underestimated him.
This match—
Would be rough.
—
But Sean wasn't watching the game.
His eyes were on—
Quirrell.
Seated in the stands.
Next to Snape.
"…Here it comes."
Through his magical sight—
Sean saw it.
Wandless casting.
Eighteen magical frameworks.
Quirrell murmuring softly—
Eyes locked on Harry.
"Impressive…" Sean thought.
The Confundus Curse disrupted Harry's broom.
It bucked wildly.
Snape noticed something was wrong—
But not the source.
He began counter-casting.
—
Hermione saw everything—
And misunderstood completely.
—
The match ended—
Gryffindor victory.
Cassius returned, defeated.
Sean, however, was in a good mood.
He'd just learned a new spell.
"Don't be down," Sean said. "Harry got lucky. Marcus underestimated him."
"…Really?"
"Really."
Even if it wasn't.
—
Meanwhile—
Hermione told Harry and Ron:
"Snape cursed the broom. I saw him!"
Harry added:
"He must've released the troll too. He was heading to that third-floor room—Sean stopped him."
Hagrid tried to keep quiet—
But as usual—
He slipped.
—
That night—
Sixth-floor prefect bathroom.
The Ouroboros group gathered.
Not for Dark Arts—
But study.
Theo led.
Pairs were assigned:
Theo → Paul (4th year)
Kaiden → Chris
Keith → Berna
Leaving—
Draco.
With Sean.
—
"Draco, what do you need help with?" Sean asked.
"I want a different partner," Draco said immediately. "Chris."
"No," Theo cut in. "Sean is the best choice. Even I envy his skill."
Draco clenched his jaw.
"…I don't have questions."
"Really?" Sean smiled slightly.
"You've learned the Full Body-Bind Curse, right? Show me."
Draco's eyes lit up.
Finally—a chance.
—
They stood four meters apart.
"When I say start—"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Draco attacked early.
A sneak strike.
—
Sean raised his wand—
And casually blocked it.
Nonverbal.
Effortless.
Draco froze.
Even with a sneak attack—
He failed.
—
"Your casting speed is that slow?" Sean said coldly.
"Even a surprise attack didn't work—and you think you have no problems?"
Draco had no answer.
For the first time—
He saw the gap.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
—
Theo stepped in.
"Not everyone is you. Give him time."
"Then he should spend time studying," Sean replied.
"Instead of showing off with his two bodyguards."
Draco flushed.
Humiliated.
But this time—
He didn't argue.
Instead—
"…Can you explain this part?"
He finally asked.
—
After the session—
Chris walked beside Sean.
"You're unusually strict with Draco. Why?"
Sean looked ahead.
"…Because I don't want to see a good seed grow crooked."
Draco wasn't untalented.
Top three in first year, easily.
But he was wasting it—
Arrogance.
Privilege.
Empty pride.
—
That night—
Even though it was Saturday—
Sean didn't rest.
Curfew fell.
He unfolded the Marauder's Map.
Tracked Quirrell—
As always.
—
For two months—
Quirrell had searched every night.
And found nothing.
—
But tonight—
Finally—
Adam appeared.
To Read 60+ ahead advanced Chapters, head over to P@treon
patreon.com/DarkVerse146