The Great Hall was a mess of chaos and confusion as the prefects tried to herd the students toward their respective dormitories. The air buzzed with tension, and even though Dumbledore's calm words had restored some order, the lingering fear was impossible to ignore.
But I wasn't moving.
Neither was Ron.
We exchanged a glance—one that spoke volumes.
They're not here.
"Ethan…" Ron's voice was barely above a whisper, but the panic was clear. "You don't think…"
"They're still out there," I muttered, my jaw clenched.
My mind was racing. The troll wasn't in the dungeon. I knew exactly where it was. That memory from my past life was too vivid to forget. The girls' bathroom. That's where Hermione had gone when she was upset. And if Rose had gone after her…
"We have to go," I said, my voice firm, already making up my mind.
Ron's eyes widened. "Go? But Dumbledore said—"
"I know what Dumbledore said," I cut him off, lowering my voice. "But Rose and Hermione aren't here, Ron. They're not with the others. And if I'm right…" I swallowed, my throat dry. "They're in danger."
Ron's face paled as realization dawned.
"The girls' bathroom…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Exactly."
I glanced toward the doors. Most of the students were already filing out, the prefects leading the younger years toward the safety of the dormitories. But the longer we stood here, the less time we had.
"Come on," I murmured, tugging at Ron's sleeve.
"But—"
"Ron." My voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "We don't have time. We have to find them."
For a moment, he hesitated. I could see the battle waging inside him—follow the rules or help his friends.
But then his jaw set, and he gave me a sharp nod.
"Let's go."
We slipped out of the Great Hall while everyone else was heading in the opposite direction, keeping our heads down to avoid drawing attention. The noise of shuffling feet and murmured voices echoed through the corridors, but as we moved farther away from the crowd, the castle grew eerily silent.
The flickering torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to move faster, to hurry.
I knew what was coming.
And I had no intention of letting history repeat itself.
"We'll check the first-floor bathrooms first," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "They were upset. It makes sense they'd go there."
Ron nodded, his face tight with worry.
As we rounded the corner, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. The corridor was dimly lit, the torches barely enough to push back the encroaching darkness.
Then—
A faint sound echoed down the hall.
A muffled sob.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Did you hear that?" Ron whispered, his eyes wide.
"Yeah."
We quickened our pace, our footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. The sound grew louder, and I recognized the voice immediately.
Hermione.
I felt a surge of relief—but it was short-lived.
Because there was another sound.
A low, guttural growl.
My blood turned to ice.
"Bloody hell…" Ron breathed, his face draining of color.
We turned the corner and froze.
The bathroom door was ajar, and through the gap, I saw it.
A massive figure loomed in the dim light, its skin a sickly shade of gray, its arms as thick as tree trunks. The stench hit me immediately—a nauseating combination of rot and filth that made my stomach churn.
The troll.
It was hunched over, its beady eyes fixed on something—or rather, someone.
Hermione.
She was pressed against the far wall, her eyes wide with terror as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Rose was standing in front of her, wand raised, her face pale but determined.
My heart stopped.
They're okay… for now.
But not for long.
The troll took another lumbering step toward them, its club dragging along the floor with a deafening scrape.
"Rose!" I called out, my voice louder than I intended.
Her head snapped toward me, relief flashing in her eyes.
"Ethan!"
"Get Hermione out of here!" I shouted, already moving.
But Rose didn't move.
"Move!" I repeated, but she stood her ground, her jaw set in that stubborn way I knew all too well.
She wasn't leaving.
"Ron," I muttered, my grip tightening on my wand. "Get Hermione out."
"What about you?"
"I'll handle the troll."
Ron's eyes went wide. "Are you mental?!"
"Just go!" I snapped, not giving him a chance to argue.
Ron hesitated for a split second, but then he moved, darting toward Hermione.
"Come on!" he urged, grabbing her hand.
Hermione looked terrified, but she didn't resist. As Ron guided her toward the door, I turned my attention back to the troll.
It was still focused on Rose.
Not for long.
"Oi, ugly!" I shouted, raising my wand. "Over here!"
The troll's head turned sluggishly toward me, its tiny eyes narrowing.
"Come on, big guy," I muttered under my breath. "Let's see how you like a little magic."
I barely had time to think. My instincts kicked in, and I went with the first spell that came to mind.
"Stupefy!"
The red bolt of light shot from my wand, striking the troll square in the chest.
It barely flinched.
"Brilliant," I muttered, my mind racing for another plan.
The troll let out a guttural roar and started lumbering toward me, its club raised high.
Think, Ethan. Think!
Then I felt it.
That pulse.
That warmth.
It wasn't like wand magic. It was something deeper, something raw that burned just beneath my skin. I'd felt it before—during Charms, when I'd lifted the feather without a wand. But this… this was different.
More intense.
The power surged inside me, eager, waiting.
Focus.
I didn't need a wand for this.
I raised my hand, palm outward, and focused on the troll's club.
Move.
The warmth flared in my chest, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow.
The club trembled.
Then, with a sudden jerk, it flew from the troll's grip, soaring through the air.
The troll's beady eyes followed it, confusion flashing across its face.
"Now!" I shouted, locking eyes with Rose.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" we said in unison, our wands aimed at the club.
But I wasn't just using my wand.
I was using my power.
The warmth surged through me again, and I guided the club with more ease than before. Rose's spell was helping, but I could feel my own magic intertwining with hers, amplifying it.
The club hovered for a split second—then came crashing down.
THWACK!
The troll let out a low groan, its eyes rolling back before it collapsed to the ground with an earth-shaking thud.
Silence.
For a moment, none of us moved.
Then—
"Is it… dead?" Ron's voice was barely above a whisper as he peeked back into the bathroom, Hermione right behind him.
I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding in my ears.
"No," I murmured, my eyes fixed on the unconscious troll. "Just knocked out."
"Bloody brilliant," Ron breathed, his face a mixture of awe and terror.
Rose let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders sagging with relief as she lowered her wand.
"Ethan…" Hermione's voice was trembling as she stepped closer, her eyes wide. "How did you…?"
"Long story," I murmured, giving her a weak smile.
But the truth was… I didn't have an answer.
Not yet.
Because whatever I'd just done… it wasn't normal.
Not even for this world.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder.
"Uh… we might want to get out of here," Ron said, his voice tight.
"Agreed," I muttered, my heart still racing.
Because something told me…
This was just the beginning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For every 10 power stones 1 bonus chapter will be available.