Reeling from the heavy blow to its head, the Mountain Troll grew dizzy, its massive body swaying in place. It stumbled backward a few steps, its thick soles dragging against the stone floor with a loud scraping sound.
Damian flicked his wrist slightly, jerking the downward-pointing tip of his wand upward. "Stupefy!"
The scarlet beam struck the beast squarely in the face.
Already disoriented, the troll was instantly knocked unconscious by the spell. Its massive body went limp, crashing backward.
It slammed onto the stone floor with a thunderous boom. The impact was so violent that the five of them standing nearby could feel the vibrations traveling through the ground beneath their feet.
Harry and the others stared wide-eyed at the unconscious troll. They hadn't expected Damian to defeat such a formidable creature so easily. The older Slytherin really was reliable!
Ron gestured wildly, letting out an exclamation of wonder. "Whoa! That was amazing!"
Among the trio, Ron had known Damian the longest. He was Damian's neighbor, as they both lived near the village of Ottery St Catchpole.
However, he had rarely seen Damian in action. The last time they encountered the three-headed dog, it was mainly Nox's clones that had distracted the beast. This was the first time Ron had witnessed Damian's magical strength so directly.
The shock was strongest for Hermione. She had just used her full strength to cast a Stunning Spell, which had barely made the creature sway. Yet, Damian's casual Stupefy had knocked the beast out cold. The gap in their magical power was massive.
"Thank you, thank you all..." Neville stammered, finally recovering as a wave of lingering fear washed over him. "If you hadn't come..."
If they hadn't arrived when they did, he probably would have been crushed into Longbottom paste. At the thought, his round face paled even further.
Damian didn't waste any time. He reached into his robes and pulled out a set of blood-drawing equipment.
The others watched his actions with great curiosity. "Damian, what are you doing?" Harry asked.
Damian replied with a casual smile. "Mountain Troll blood is a highly valued potion ingredient. A few vials of this can be sold for quite a bit of money. Think of it as a work-study program."
Harry was stunned. Did draining a troll's blood in a school corridor really count as work-study?
Damian inserted the thick needle into the troll's arm and began drawing blood. The thick, dark red blood flowed through the tube and into a glass vial.
The troll's vitality was immense, and the blood quickly filled the first container. Damian swiftly swapped it for a new one.
Just as he finished filling his fourth vial, a flurry of footsteps echoed from down the corridor. The commotion had finally attracted attention.
Damian quickly packed up the equipment, stowing the vials of fresh blood into his Undetectable Extension Pouch.
Watching Damian's practiced, almost clinical movements, Harry couldn't help but feel a sudden chill. There was a layer of mystery shrouding the older boy.
Several professors hurried around the corner, led by Professor McGonagall. Professors Snape and Quirrell followed closely behind her. McGonagall's expression was frantic; seeing a group of students standing in the corridor, her pace quickened to a run, fearing the worst.
A moment later, the three teachers arrived at the scene.
Seeing the unconscious troll on the floor, Professor Quirrell let out a faint whimper. He clutched his heart exaggeratedly and slumped against the wall, looking as if he might faint again.
Professor Snape shot Harry a cold, unreadable glance before sweeping past him toward the prone troll.
As he passed Damian, he asked softly, "You defeated it?"
Damian nodded. "Yes, Professor," he replied firmly.
Snape bent down to examine the beast. When he spotted the fresh puncture wound on the troll's arm, still oozing dark blood, his dark eyes snapped up to meet Damian's. He held the gaze for a moment, but said nothing.
Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that none of the five students were injured. However, her relief instantly morphed into furious anger.
"What on earth are you all doing here?" she demanded, her tone extremely stern. "You were ordered to return to your dormitories at once!"
"Professor McGonagall..." Neville said tremulously. "They... they came to find me."
Damian stepped forward, taking over the conversation to smoothly explain the situation.
"Professor, please allow me to explain. It was an accident. Neville's pet went missing, and he was searching the classrooms for it during the feast. He didn't know about the troll." Damian continued calmly, "Harry and the others realized he was missing and asked for my help to find him. When we arrived, the troll had just cornered him. To prevent Neville from being killed, I stepped in and stunned it."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded furiously, backing up his story.
"You should have notified the teachers immediately instead of taking such a foolish risk yourselves!" Professor McGonagall said angrily. "For this sheer recklessness, I will be taking one point from each of you!"
Professor McGonagall paused, her tone softening slightly. "However... the courage to save a companion is also worthy of reward. Each of you has earned five points for your respective Houses."
Professor Snape seized the opportunity, his silky voice cutting in unhurriedly. "Defeating a fully grown Mountain Troll is also a feat worthy of reward. Twenty points to Slytherin."
McGonagall didn't object. Damian had, indeed, taken down the troll single-handedly.
"Now, all of you, go back to your dormitories," Professor McGonagall instructed. "The feast is continuing in your respective common rooms. Off you go."
As the students left, she shot a glare at Professor Quirrell, who was still trembling against the wall. It was his negligence that had let the troll in, ruining a perfectly good feast and leaving them to clean up the mess.
Once the corridor was clear of students, McGonagall stepped closer to the unconscious beast. She frowned at the wound on the troll's arm, noticing a suspicious amount of blood had been lost.
"Severus, attend to this wound," she whispered to Snape. "This troll is still needed."
Snape nodded expressionlessly. He drew a vial of healing potion from his robes and poured it over the puncture mark and the gash on the troll's arm.
Harry's group of four parted ways with Damian at the Grand Staircase, as the Slytherin dungeons and Gryffindor Tower lay in opposite directions.
As they climbed the marble stairs, Ron grinned excitedly. "We earned twenty points for Gryffindor tonight!"
He was ecstatic. Once they returned to the common room, he fully planned to boast about his daring heroics and point-earning streak.
Harry chuckled and corrected him. "It's fifteen points, Ron. The reward didn't count for Neville."
"And you have to factor in the three points deducted," Hermione pointed out practically. "It's actually a net gain of twelve points."
"Then Damian alone earned twenty-four points for Slytherin," Ron said, a hint of envy in his voice.
"He deserves it," Hermione said firmly.
Neville sniffled and whispered, "Thank you, guys."
The other three looked at each other and smiled. "You've already thanked us, Neville."
After surviving the troll together, their friendship was officially cemented.
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