Thick of it : reboot

James walked briskly down the dimly lit corridors, his shoes echoing against the cold stone floor. The torches flickered lazily on the walls, casting long shadows that danced with his movement. Dinner was about to start, and while his stomach certainly had its opinions on that matter, there was something far more pressing at hand.

Hermione had been in the girls' bathroom all evening, crying her heart out. James didn't need a prophecy to tell him this was bad news. If things played out the way he suspected, a troll would be stomping its way through the castle before long, and frankly, he'd rather not be around for that.

Steeling himself, he pushed open the heavy wooden door to the girls' bathroom. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional dripping of a leaky tap and the unmistakable sound of soft sobbing.

James hesitated for a second. Was barging into the girls' loo technically a bit inappropriate? Probably. Did he care? Not in the slightest.

He walked past the row of sinks, stopping in front of the stall where the sound was coming from. The moment his feet appeared beneath the door, the crying halted abruptly.

A sniff. Then silence.

James cleared his throat. "Hermione?"

A pause. Then, in a quiet, shaky voice—"I'm fine."

James sighed. "You sound fine, yeah. And I suppose Snape's a warm and friendly bloke, too."

More silence.

Leaning against the stall door, he crossed his arms. "Look, I know Ron was a prat. He is a prat. Clumsy, loud-mouthed, and about as subtle as a Bludger to the face."

There was a muffled noise that might have been a reluctant huff of laughter.

Encouraged, James continued, "But he didn't mean to hurt you."

Nothing.

James sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, let's be honest here. He's got the emotional depth of a teaspoon. Maybe half a teaspoon. But he's not cruel, Hermione. He's just… thick."

A sniff. "More than thick."

James grinned slightly. Progress. "True. He's a right idiot sometimes. But he's my idiot. please forgive him. "

Another pause. Then, finally, the stall lock clicked open, and Hermione stepped out, her eyes red and blotchy, her face tear-streaked. She looked utterly miserable, and James felt a pang of guilt that he hadn't come sooner.

She wiped at her face hastily. "I know he didn't mean it, but… but it still hurt."

James nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Words sting, even when they come from someone who couldn't spell 'apology' if his life depended on it."

Hermione let out a wet chuckle, but her lip trembled. "I just… I don't have any friends."

James raised an eyebrow. "Alright, that's a load of troll dung."

She blinked up at him, surprised.

James gestured vaguely. "You've got me, for starters. And Harry. And even Ron, once he pulls his head out of his arse. You're not alone, Hermione."

She bit her lip, looking uncertain.

James smirked. "Tell you what—if Ron ever makes you cry again, I'll hex his eyebrows clean off. Fair?"

That actually got a proper laugh out of her. "Fair."

"Good." He nudged her shoulder lightly. "Now, come on, let's get to dinner before Ron starts thinking we've died in here."

She nodded .

The heavy wooden door to the girls' bathroom slammed open with a deafening BANG, the hinges screeching in protest. The rancid stench of something foul and unwashed rolled into the room like a physical force, making James gag. His stomach dropped as a hulking shadow loomed in the doorway.

A mountain of greyish, warty skin. Arms like tree trunks. A thick, drooling mouth slack with stupidity.

A troll.

James blinked. Then blinked again. "No, no, no. You're too early," he muttered in exasperation, as if that would somehow convince the beast to turn around and come back at a more convenient time.

The troll did not, in fact, turn around. Instead, it took a lumbering step forward, its beady little eyes sweeping over the room before settling on James and Hermione.

Hermione let out a small, strangled sound, her legs trembling beneath her. She looked like she might collapse at any second.

James grabbed her arm, giving her a small shove. "Go! Hide behind something!"

She didn't need telling twice. With a muffled whimper, she bolted towards the sinks, crouching down behind the porcelain fixtures.

James swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay put. His legs were screaming at him to run. His brain, being no help at all, was flashing all sorts of lovely images of himself getting flattened like a pancake.

But Hermione was here. He couldn't just leave.

His wand felt far too small in his hand as he lifted it shakily, pointing it at the troll.

"Alright, big guy. Let's see if you like this."

The troll let out a deep, guttural grunt and took another step.

James flicked his wand. "Glisseo!"

The effect was immediate. The tiles beneath the troll's massive feet turned slick as ice, and with an undignified thump, the creature's legs flew out from under it. It crashed face-first onto the bathroom floor, sending a tremor through the room so strong that the sinks rattled.

James allowed himself a small, relieved laugh. "Hah! Look at that! Big scary troll, defeated by some slippery flooring. Who knew you lot weren't built for ice skating?"

The troll groaned, attempting to push itself up.

James quickly flicked his wand again. "Locomotor Mortis!"

A blue light shot from his wand, striking the troll's legs, locking them together. The beast flailed, struggling to move, but its thick, sausage-like limbs refused to cooperate.

James grinned. "Alright, progress! Now, let's get rid of that ridiculous club—Wingardium Leviosa!"

The troll's massive club wobbled, lifted off the ground, and began floating upwards. James strained, his arms trembling as he tried to send it higher, but his magic wasn't strong enough yet. The best he could do was make it hover a few feet in the air before it slipped from his magical grip.

Gravity did the rest.

The club clonked the troll on the head with a dull thud, eliciting a low, pained groan. It wasn't enough to knock it out, but at least it looked thoroughly dazed.

James exhaled shakily. "Yeah. That went well."

And then the leg-lock spell wore off.

"Oh, come on," James groaned.

With an earth-shaking growl, the troll pushed itself upright, shaking its massive head, its beady eyes narrowing. Then, with a low, angry bellow, it swung its club in a wide arc.

James barely had time to react. He dived to the side as the club smashed into the wall where he had been standing, shattering the stone into dust. His heart pounded wildly against his ribs.

Right. New plan. Survive.

He flicked his wand again. "Lumos Maxima!"

A blinding white light erupted from the tip of his wand, flooding the dimly lit bathroom with an intense glow. The troll roared in distress, stumbling back as it clumsily tried to shield its tiny eyes with its massive hands.

James used the momentary distraction to not die, slipping out of the way with another spell.

"Lubrico! [Slippery Jinx!]"

His shoes became slick like ice, allowing him to glide across the wet bathroom floor just as the troll swung again. He barely ducked under the club, slipping away before it could smash him into a pulp.

Right, just need to keep dodging until someone—anyone—shows up!

Unfortunately, James's luck had the lifespan of a chocolate frog.

He slid to the left, narrowly avoiding another blow. Slid to the right—just missed again. But on the third swing, the troll got smart.

It didn't swing where James was. It swung where he was going to be.

The massive club connected with his side.

Pain exploded through his ribs like white-hot fire as he was launched backwards. His body slammed against the cold stone wall with a sickening crack.

His vision blurred. His limbs felt like they'd been replaced with lead. The edges of his sight darkened.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was Hermione's terrified scream.

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Drop power stone