Harry stood in the shadows at the corner, watching Quirrell hurry toward the Great Hall.
Then, the moment he rushed into the Hall, the expression on his face twisted into one of terror, and even from down the corridor, Harry could hear Quirrell's theatrical shout: "In the dungeon! A troll! I thought you ought to know—"
The Great Hall erupted into chaos.
At the staff table, Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a glance, both of them watching Quirrell warily.
They simultaneously began searching for Harry among the Gryffindor table.
He was not there.
Snape's expression visibly darkened, and after exchanging a look with Dumbledore, he rose discreetly amidst the confusion and slipped out of the Hall without drawing attention.
What was Harry doing at that moment?
He had already made it to the fourth floor, and after subduing the three-headed dog, he had fought his way through the chessboard.
The final chamber was empty, with nothing at all.
Harry frowned, and after standing there for a moment, he turned and left.
If Dumbledore expected to train the Savior with such a childish hero's quest, Harry scoffed to himself, then that was an insult to his intelligence.
As for there being nothing there, perhaps the time simply hadn't come yet; after all, it had only been two months since the start of term.
Harry turned and slipped away from the fourth floor.
As he passed the second floor, he caught an unbearable stench.
Troll.
He paused, remembering Quirrell's shouting, and then turned to follow the odor.
At the moment Quirrell fainted, the prefects from each house, under Dumbledore's direction, quickly began organizing the students to evacuate to their respective common rooms.
Ron let out a vague grumble, regretting that a grand feast had been ruined.
He quickly grabbed two chicken legs to take back to the dormitory.
Though he felt like he had forgotten something.
Ron's eyes swept uncertainly around him, and when he saw the empty space beside him, a flash of realization hit him, and his face went pale.
Before he could panic, a pale hand reached out from the corner and yanked him out of the line.
It was Draco.
Draco demanded in a low voice, "Weasley, where's Harry?"
"Harry… Harry…" Ron's mouth was still full of chicken, and he mumbled, "Harry went to the toilet. He hasn't come back!"
At that moment, Ron set aside his feud with Draco. He scanned the Gryffindor line, his face growing even paler as he stammered, "And… and Granger."
"Granger?" Draco raised his voice, confused for a moment before quickly catching on, "Your Gryffindor know-it-all?"
Even as a Slytherin, he had heard of that clever girl.
"I, I think she heard me when I was bad-mouthing her earlier…"
Ron said in a timid, low voice, his face reddening. "She, she didn't come to the Hall either."
Draco was furious. "Idiot! You're an idiot, Weasley! You can't match a Mudblood's brains, yet you still talk behind her back."
"Fine, talk behind her back if you must, but you can't even do that properly! You let her hear you!"
"Is that a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean growing on your neck?!"
Ron's expression changed several times; he looked like he wanted to argue with Draco, but knowing he was in the wrong, he swallowed his voice guiltily.
"So, so what do I do now?"
Draco said, "I don't care if you die. Just leave if you're not useful. I'm going to find Harry."
Ron was anxious. "What about Granger?"
Draco shot him an annoyed glare. "That's your mess! I don't care if she dies!"
With that, Draco turned and ran.
Ron stood frozen for a moment, then quickly ran after him. "Wait for me! I'm coming too!"
Draco hadn't brought Crabbe and Goyle. He thought they were too big and conspicuous, so he had sent them back and slipped out on his own.
After running out of the Great Hall, the two were at a loss.
They had no idea where Harry was, nor did they know where Granger was.
They decided to check the second floor first, but as soon as they stepped onto the staircase, it began to move.
They stared at each other wide-eyed for a moment. The staircase stopped after turning toward the third floor, and another staircase leading to the fourth floor swung into place.
"Is that… the fourth floor Dumbledore said was forbidden?" Ron hesitated.
"Forget it." Draco started running forward. "We'll go down the other side."
"I hate these bloody stairs. I'll have Father get rid of them one day!"
Draco ran ahead, with Ron chasing behind.
For a moment, Draco caught a suspicious figure. He stopped quickly, turned and ducked behind a corner, and watched quietly.
Ron was startled and instinctively wanted to complain, but Draco hastily covered his mouth.
"Shh!"
Draco warned in a low voice, carefully peeking out from behind the wall.
Snape was facing off with Quirrell.
It looked more like coercion, really. Faced with Snape, the timid, stuttering Quirrell seemed too much like a victim.
Ron stared wide-eyed, nudging Draco with his elbow and whispering accusingly, "Are you Slytherins this bold? Snape dares to attack a professor in school?"
Draco wanted to shove Weasley's head into a toilet and give the stupid redhead a good rinse.
"Shut up!" Draco hissed. "Our Head of House would never stoop to such a thing! If you spout any more nonsense, I'll have him take away all your House points!"
Ron was used to Harry's antics, so he was unusually calm and optimistic. He waved a hand. "Take them, take them. We never had any points to begin with, unless Snape can make our House points negative."
What kind of mess was Gryffindor?
Was this the attitude of having nothing left to lose?
Bad move.
As they spoke, Quirrell had already slunk away under Snape's oppressive glare.
Then Snape turned his dark expression toward the corner. He raised his wand and said in a silky tone, "Will you come out yourselves, or shall I fetch you?"
Draco and Ron both froze.
No student in Hogwarts was unafraid of Snape.
They shoved and pushed each other, neither wanting to be the first to face the scolding. In the end, someone stepped on someone else's foot, and they tumbled out from behind the corner in a heap.
Dusty and disheveled.
Snape's expression darkened further. His sharp gaze swept over them as he hissed, "Very well."
"Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley. I assume you are not here for a stroll?"
"P, Professor." Draco gathered his courage and stammered, "We, we came to find someone. Harry wasn't in the Hall."
"But, but the stairs brought us to the fourth floor…"
Draco's voice faded under Snape's stare. Ron looked down, silent, secretly admiring Draco.
Whatever else, just the fact that Malfoy dared to walk into Snape's line of fire at a moment like this was impressive.
He tried to shrink further, hoping to escape Snape's notice.
But Snape was not blind.
Snape's deep voice rumbled above them. "Mr. Weasley, for trespassing on the fourth floor, and for your recklessness, Gryffindor will lose twenty points."
Ron expected to be devastated, but when the points were actually taken, he felt strangely calm.
He even had the presence of mind to wonder whether Gryffindor had enough points left to lose twenty!
There were not many left anyway.
Take them all.