Chapitre 55: Chapter 55
The morning was quite normal. Everyone woke up, and did the stuff they usually did. Compared to the tension that was present all week, it was almost a relief when nothing happened. No news of You-know-who resurrecting from the dead. No Death Eater attacks in remembrance of the the last war. No invasion from near mythical eastern states... well, the last one was more Dumbledore's worry.
Of course, the usual plotting, planning and maneuvering occurred.
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Classes were normal. There was so much relief at the lack of unusual happenings that the teachers forgot to give out homework (except Snape, but that was to be expected). And the students forgot to rejoice at their supposed good fortune.
By afternoon, there was a visible relaxation in all the students.
Ron Weasley tried to goad Hermione into doing anything except smile creepily at him. It was all for naught and the poor sap was nearly reduced to a pool of his own excrement when he saw those eyes turn to look straight through him. He didn't know what happened, but clearly the poor girl had snapped. Ever since the previous week, she had kept up this disturbing little grin on her face. It promised pain misery ad death, all just for him. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he'd done to her.
By dinner time, the whole school had collectively decided that no weirdness was going to occur and that this was one Halloween destined to be uneventful. However, it was just as the food was about to reach the mouths of the hungry that the unimaginable happened. Professor Quirrel, the professor of defense against vampires(his class curriculum was slow and narrowly focused), came running in and shouted out that a troll was loose in the dungeon. And in a rather theatrical (for those who paid attention that is) manner, he fainted, lying spread eagled on the floor.
Dumbledore noted that Quirrel wasn't unconscious, but still, running all the way from the dungeons must have been a very tiring thing. The resident ninja already knew something was funny about the man and chose to simply ignore him.
Hermione on the other hand now found herself intrigued by the weird sensations the turban wearer was inducing. The sight of a dark wispy aura rising from the back of his head was quite the sight. Maybe she ought to see about this troll that was in the castle...
Harry was already on his way. A clone had reported (read popped) the troll clearly a long away from its last reported position, the second floor was not next to the dungeons after all. So he had the idea to investigate the beast and see exactly what was going to happen. A switch with a clone and instant freedom.
In the meantime, Dumbledore announced that the students were to return to the dorms. Which should have raised alarm bells when at least somebody realized that the Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons. So it was in true ode to Murphy fashion that the house of the cunning and frighteningly intelligent walked obediently towards the same spot where the troll was last spotted. Later, it was convenient to blame it all on the fact that it was Halloween. There was an actual possibility that this was the case after all.
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The troll was meandering through hallways in a right grumpy manner. It wasn't full trained and consequently was not aware that real security trolls were silent and vigilant pillars, ever ready to defend their charge, usually a gate or door of a fashion. So this one was convinced that it was supposed to patrol the corridors and smash whatever intruders it could find. If one consider that the definition of intruders meant "Not Quirrel", one can definitely find logic in its subsequent actions.
The first 'something' the troll found was in a bathroom. It went in to see if there was anybody to brain with its club and found itself facing the resident ghost, a certain Moaning Myrtle. Finding an intruder to smash and not capable of distinguishing between the living and dead, the beast raised its club and began to slaughter the innocent stalls and toilets that the ghost kept trying to hide in. Both were quite hysterical, one in irrational fright (she was a ghost for Merlin's sake) and the other in rage (whack a mole without getting a single mole is quite frustrating) and there seemed to be no end to the hideousness in sight. A house elf that came to repair damage quickly left before it could get caught by the club or flying debris, unnoticed by all.
This was the sight that Harry and a platoon of clones were watching, albeit reluctantly. They really wanted to go down and cut the thing to pieces. The decision was taken out of their hands when a girl walked in rather calmly, looking at the incredibly disgusting wreckage. Magical or not, it was a toilet after all...
Hermione was quite intrigued when she saw the sight of a real live troll demolishing toilets in a haphazard and inefficient manner. She paused at the doorway long enough to catch sight of a bunch of the upside down invisible people looking at the carnage and twitching. What was interesting was that one of them was actually real for once. She couldn't see through the mask, but she was sure that this was an unusual person. In any case, she would have plenty of time to check up on her target later.
She walked a few steps forward and checked out the troll once more. The creature, which was mildly rational at the best of times was now emitting blood lust in visible waves. There was no hope of restraining the beast in any amount of time with what magic she knew. So she took out her Colt (from somewhere she didn't pay attention to) and pointed it straight at the troll. Something had told her to take it and she did. She didn't notice that she had literally pulled the weapon from thin air or that her stance was perfect for a shot at this low range.
Harry however did. He also noticed that she was literally glowing, if a bit erratically. It was when her hair slowly started floating up that she made her move. A single squeeze and a fraction of a second later, the trolls head was crimson vapor.
Hermione was quite surprised when she noted that her observer had not even twitched at the sight of magical attack resistant magical creature being taken down in one shot by what was ostensibly a muggle weapon. She was even more surprised when she noticed that she had barely felt the recoil, or that she was quite unconcerned about the first kill she had made. There was no shock, or even a pause. She felt like life and death were merely meaningless words now.
She was internally startled when a rough whispering voice broke her thoughts.
"Is that a gun? A revolver?"
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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