Chapter 157: Chapter 157: The Troll
The scene inside the bathroom was horrifying to say the least. A grotesque creature, nearly four meters tall, stood in the center.
Its dull, granite-like gray skin was lifeless and rough. Its massive, clumsy body looked like a mound of wet clay topped with a disproportionately small head that resembled a cocoa bean.
Short, thick legs like tree stumps supported its hulking frame, and its large, calloused feet added to its ungainly appearance.
The foul stench emanating from it was enough to make one gag.
—A troll!
Trolls were magical creatures with immense strength but abysmally low intelligence.
Despite their lack of wits, they were classified as XXXX-level creatures by the Ministry of Magic, placing them in the same league as Thunderbirds and Erumpents.
In other words, trolls were extremely dangerous and far beyond what young wizards could handle.
Hermione was crouched in the far corner of the room, trembling with fear.
"Over here, you ugly brute!" Harry shouted, grabbing rubble from the floor and hurling it at the troll.
There was little need for Harry to attract the troll's attention—the explosion had already done that.
The troll shook its head, still disoriented from the blast. After a moment of hesitation, it let out a roar and lumbered toward William and the others, raising its enormous club.
"Run, Hermione! Hurry!" Ron called out, his voice shaking. Though clearly terrified, he mustered the courage to shout.
Hermione seemed too scared to move. She sat frozen on the floor, her legs unresponsive and her mouth agape in terror.
She had been crying alone in the bathroom moments earlier, only to find herself suddenly confronted by a troll; it was something that would have paralyzed anyone.
"Impedimenta!" William's wand flicked swiftly.
Invisible barriers materialized around the troll, confining it and preventing it from advancing further.
The troll bellowed in frustration and slammed into the barriers, but William didn't spare it a glance. He walked directly to Hermione, his wand at the ready.
William crouched down and gently checked Hermione for injuries. Finding no physical harm, he concluded she had merely been scared out of her wits.
As he moved, Hermione seemed to snap out of her daze, her eyes regaining focus. Tears welled up, and she began to sob quietly.
William wiped a tear from her cheek and pulled a piece of chocolate from his pocket. In a soft voice, he said, "Here, eat this. You'll feel better."
Hermione nodded numbly, her sniffles punctuated by a quiet "Okay" as she took the chocolate.
William stood and turned back toward the troll. With his wand at his side, a gentle breeze tousled his hair as he frowned in thought.
How had a troll gotten into Hogwarts? It made no sense. The odds of one wandering into the school were lower than those of Death Eaters invading.
William didn't have time to dwell on the mystery. The trapped troll was growing increasingly agitated.
Roaring in fury, it swung its massive club in a wide arc, striking the invisible barrier with a thunderous crash.
Dust and debris flew as the troll stomped the ground, leaving a deep crater in its wake. The impact sent plumes of dirt into the air as it gripped its club with both hands and drove it into the floor.
The troll's brute strength was undeniable. It tore up a large slab of marble flooring and hurled it in every direction, creating a deafening cacophony as cracks spread like spiderwebs from the epicenter.
The "Impedimenta" barriers began to shudder violently.
Despite its limited intelligence, the troll's instincts and raw power made it a powerful opponent, especially one accustomed to life in the Forbidden Forest.
The wooden club it wielded, though crude, was unnervingly durable. With a mighty leap, the troll slammed the weapon into the barrier, shattering it completely.
Now in a berserk frenzy, the troll lashed out at anything within reach. Like a green-skinned Hulk, it pummeled its surroundings with unmatched force.
The sheer ferocity caused fissures to ripple outward, creating a web-like pattern on the floor and walls.
But William wasn't Loki, nor was he about to charge in recklessly like some close-combat mage.
With a flick of his wand, he targeted the bathroom's pipes, causing them to burst. Jets of water shot skyward, spraying everywhere.
William's voice was calm as he incanted, "Aqua Severitas."
The geysers of water coalesced, but instead of forming a massive torrent, they transformed into shimmering silver threads. The threads snaked toward the troll with precision.
On closer inspection, these silver threads were composed of countless water-formed daggers, each enchanted for added lethality.
The troll's thick hide, a natural defense against many spells, had its vulnerabilities—its neck and skull being the weakest points.
William turned slightly, speaking softly to the girl behind him. "Don't be scared. Close your eyes."
Hermione obeyed immediately, shutting her eyes tight.
The silver threads, sharpened by magic, sliced effortlessly through the troll's neck. Its small head toppled to the floor with a sickening thud.
Enchanted daggers vs. troll.
Even a troll couldn't withstand the combined force of countless blades.
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. The only sound was a wet squelch as green blood sprayed across the walls, spattering Harry and Ron, who stood frozen in the doorway.
The two boys stared wide-eyed, gasping like fish stranded on a beach.
With another wave of his wand, William disbanded the silver threads. They fragmented into droplets the size of soybeans, splashing against the walls and leaving tiny pockmarks.
William looked satisfied. This spell, a combination of Transfiguration and Charms, had been inspired by water jet cutting.
The principle was simple: under high pressure, water could achieve remarkable cutting speed, acting as a "water blade."
"Aqua Severitas" incorporated this principle, enhancing the water with Transfiguration to form sharp edges and empowering it with Charms for destructive force.
Against magical creatures, it was far more effective than spells like "Stupefy."
The troll's body slumped to the ground just as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the distance.
Professor McGonagall burst into the room, followed closely by Snape and Quirrell, the latter clutching his chest as he let out a pitiful sob.
Snape knelt beside the troll, inspecting the clean cut at its neck.
His brows furrowed. The precision and power of this spell rivaled his own Sectumsempra.
But unlike his dark magic, William's spell lacked any dark residue—it relied entirely on cumulative force through countless small strikes.
How could water have such devastating power? Snape wondered, casting a suspicious glance at William.
His thoughts darkened. Is this boy truly incapable of becoming the third Dark Lord?
Snape's gaze shifted briefly to Quirrell, who sat trembling on the floor, clutching his chest as though to say, I'm scared!
Suppressing a surge of disgust and rage, Snape resisted the urge to curse Quirrell.
His leg throbbed in pain. Damn it. I've been outmaneuvered.
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