A group of professors rushed over, and Harry even saw Ron and Draco cowering behind Snape.
"Oh, Merlin!" Professor McGonagall, who was in the lead, spotted the troll on the ground at once, along with the bloodstained club beside its head.
It was clear to anyone who wasn't blind that the massive beast was thoroughly dead.
McGonagall, though horrified, quickly stepped forward and pulled Harry and Hermione behind her.
She did not think for a moment that such a brutal scene could be the work of young wizards; her only thought was that some dangerous person might have infiltrated Hogwarts.
Snape said nothing but subtly shielded Ron and Draco, his wand at the ready as he grew alert.
Ron and Draco were leaning on each other, sprawled on the ground, retching sour liquid.
The professors carefully examined the area and only began their questioning after confirming there was no danger.
Professor McGonagall frowned at Harry and Hermione: "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, what happened just now?"
Harry blinked, remembered Hermione's words, and remained silent.
Hermione, who had just wiped away her tears with a handkerchief, burst into tears again, crying, "Wah wah wah… Professor, I, I don't know either…"
Hermione pointed at Ron, who was vomiting so violently he seemed oblivious to the world, and began to tattle, finally releasing the fear of witnessing the troll's gruesome death along with her tears.
"Before the feast, I heard Weasley making fun of me, so I hid here… then the troll suddenly appeared, and I… I was so scared, I don't know what happened, but I heard an explosion and the sound of things being smashed…"
Hermione stubbornly wiped her tears with her hand, speaking haltingly: "Then the troll fell… I didn't know what to do, but luckily Harry found me in time…"
Hermione was a very obedient, well-behaved, and exceptionally bright child. Hearing her explanation, the professors exchanged glances and turned reproachful eyes toward Ron.
Ron was still vomiting.
Professor McGonagall felt a surge of pity; she had already formed a suspicion. She believed that Hermione had likely been so terrified that she had a magical outburst. The magical outbursts of young wizards could be very powerful.
When out of control, such an outburst could cause an explosion and could have made the club smash the troll's head, which was plausible.
Professor Sprout murmured nearby, "Merlin…"
Professor McGonagall held Hermione tightly, pulling Harry into her arms as well, gently patting both their backs, her voice soft: "Poor children, you must have been frightened, right?"
Harry blinked and said nothing, but Hermione buried her face in McGonagall's embrace, clutching the professor's robes tightly.
Professor McGonagall gently pushed their shoulders: "Let Madam Pomfrey check you over first, then I'll take you back to your dormitory so you can get some good rest."
Additionally, for mocking a classmate, Ron had five more points deducted by Professor McGonagall.
He and Draco had run around when danger struck, which normally warranted punishment, but since their intention was to help a classmate and their motives were good, Professor McGonagall did not deduct further points.
Moreover, Ron and Draco were pale from vomiting, looking like they might pass out from the strain, making them seem utterly pitiful.
So they were all sent to the hospital wing for a thorough examination by Madam Pomfrey.
Harry and the other two were fine, but Hermione was indeed found to have slight traces of a magical outburst, though fortunately nothing serious.
Harry, upon learning this, seemed thoughtful.
Perhaps, even if he hadn't arrived, the burst of magic might have saved Hermione's life, but at that point, it would have caused irreversible damage to her body.
His arrival had been timely enough.
Alongside tales of their "heroic" deeds spreading through Hogwarts was the appearance of black gems in Gryffindor's hourglass.
After the Halloween fright, the next day, Gryffindors looking at their house's hourglass felt as if the sky had fallen.
This must be a first in history, right?
No, that might not be precise enough; it was probably a first in nearly half a century.
After all, such a situation had been common during the tenure of a certain Headmaster with the surname Black.
Especially Gryffindor, which had never gotten along well with Slytherin, was hit hardest, followed by Hufflepuff, which had many Muggle-born wizards.
Even Slytherin students from the Black family itself had little regard for that Headmaster.
As a result, during Headmaster Black's time, the four houses of Hogwarts achieved unprecedented unity.
But clearly, in the Hogwarts that emerged from the terror of Voldemort's reign, the four houses were not united, with special mention here for Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Seeing the pitiful state of Gryffindor's hourglass, Slytherin students did little to hide their schadenfreude.
The Gryffindor students had mixed feelings; on one hand, they knew the point deductions were mostly due to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
On the other hand, Harry was the Boy Who Lived, and their brave fight against the troll on Halloween had stirred excitement among the Gryffindors.
Besides the Gryffindors, Dumbledore also felt as if his sky had fallen.
He stared silently at Gryffindor's hourglass, tugging at his beard in distress, mentally calculating how to make up such a large deficit before the end of the school year to build momentum for the Boy Who Lived.
Hermione grew closer to Harry, and although she still couldn't stand Ron, she managed to tolerate him.
Her attitude toward Harry was the complete opposite of her attitude toward Ron; she was almost doting, so gentle and patient that it even sent a shiver down Harry's spine.
After a few attempts to probe, Harry finally understood Hermione's reasoning.
Coming from the Muggle world, Hermione believed that Harry's method of dealing with the troll revealed something about his psychological state.
She now saw Harry as a poor, pitiable child with childhood trauma and an unhealthy mental state who needed careful nurturing and protection.
Harry found it both amusing and exasperating.
He repeatedly explained to Hermione that he wasn't ill, and she nodded in agreement but never changed her attitude, clearly not believing him.
So by Christmas, Harry was nearly buried under the gifts Hermione sent.
Leaving aside the various snacks and toys, Harry even found several colorful fairy tale books among them!
And you know what, flipping through *The Little Prince*, it was actually quite a good read.
Besides those, there was a brooch from Draco, a game console from Dudley, thick clothes from Aunt Petunia, and Ron's mother, having learned from her youngest son that Harry was his roommate, had even prepared an extra gift for him.
It was a warm, thick sweater.
However, the gift that truly caught Harry's attention was an unsigned one.
It was a silver cloak of peculiar texture; when Harry draped it over himself, he vanished into the air.
This was an invisibility cloak.
Moreover, the fluctuations of Harry's magic were suppressed to a minimum, almost imperceptible.
Harry glanced one last time at the note; the distinctive circular handwriting was unmistakably Dumbledore's.
He curled his lip, tossed the note aside casually, and began to study the invisibility cloak intently.
This invisibility cloak could barely be considered magical, but its sudden appearance gave Harry an odd feeling.
It felt like a game where, when a quest should continue but gets stuck halfway, an NPC appears with a usable item to help advance the quest.
Harry weighed the invisibility cloak thoughtfully; moments later, his spirits lifted: could it be that the thing guarded by the three-headed dog on the fourth floor was finally about to appear?
This was why Harry had been holding back and not simply disposing of Quirrell.
If Dumbledore was using this item as a hero's trial for the Boy Who Lived, it must have some significance, and if it was important, Harry would be happy to take it.
In this case, he needed a scapegoat to take the blame.
And Quirrell, who served Voldemort and was hiding in Hogwarts with unknown motives, was the perfect candidate.
Sorry, Professor Quirrell.
That night, Harry strode out of his dormitory with great confidence, not wearing the invisibility cloak.