The turmoil in the Forbidden Forest had already gradually subsided with the martial law at Hogwarts.
Those outsider Wizards who had lingered on the outskirts, plotting to get their hands on the dragon, dispersed one by one, and the woods regained their former peace and quiet.
A few days later, Baelon took the opportunity of chatting with Hagrid to casually ask about the recent situation in the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid squatted at the door of his hut, wiping his bow and arrow, and gave a gruff grin: “It’s been settled for a long time.
Now, even the Centaurs are comfortable walking around in the depths.
It’s just the right time to find a stable place for your dragons.”
Baelon nodded slightly.
“I want to find a deeper lair for them,” Baelon said softly.
Hagrid immediately slapped his leg and stood up: “Perfect!
I know a hidden rocky cavern, absolutely safe!”
The two entered the depths of the Forbidden Forest together.
Ancient trees reached for the sky, vines intertwined, and underground rivers flowed gurglingly.
The magic power here was rich and gentle.
Baelon finally chose a semi-circular rocky hollow, sheltered from the wind, hidden, and far from the footsteps of ordinary people.
Baelon raised his hand and lightly touched the coin pouch at his waist, which had been cast with an Undetectable Extension Charm, his fingertips pausing slightly.
Two figures were calmly released by him—his golden dragon had grown extremely rapidly under the nourishment of the abundant magic at Hogwarts, though it seemed to have slowed down recently.
Now, Sunfyre was as large as a family car, with a wingspan close to 16 feet (about five meters).
Its scales shimmered with a cold, moist gold in the dim forest light, looking steady and majestic.
Beside it, the Norwegian Ridgeback, Norberta, was still small, yet showed no fear of the behemoth.
She affectionately rubbed her small head against the other’s front claw.
The golden dragon only let out a low hum and submissively lowered its head, letting the little dragon circle around it.
Baelon raised his wand, and several silent spells fell precisely—Disillusionment Charm, Hiding Charm, and Scent-Masking Charm covered the lair layer by layer, completely hiding it.
To an outsider, this was just an ordinary patch of bushes, with not even a trace of magical fluctuation detectable.
“Perfect,” Hagrid praised sincerely.
Baelon watched the two dragons settle down peacefully and responded faintly: “I hope they won’t be disturbed this way.”
When the two returned to the Castle, it was still early.
Baelon noticed Ron and Hermione seemed to be arguing about something in the distance in the front courtyard.
Because they were far away, he couldn’t hear their conversation clearly.
He only knew that for the next few days, the relationship between Hermione and Ron remained very strained.
In Charms Class, Hermione couldn’t help but correct Ron’s wand movements.
Ron thought she was being nosy, and the two bickered on the spot.
Passing each other in the corridor, neither would acknowledge the other; even during meals, Hermione deliberately avoided where Ron was sitting.
Small conflicts accumulated, and neither was willing to back down first.
Baelon saw it all.
He was friends with Hermione, but he knew that such things could only be resolved by themselves.
He didn’t intervene, only occasionally handing her a small cookie or simply saying “Don’t take it to heart” when Hermione was feeling down.
The days drew closer to Halloween, and the air was filled with the festive spirit.
On the afternoon of Halloween, the conflict in Charms Class finally erupted.
Professor Flitwick had everyone practice the Levitation Charm.
Ron made three consecutive mistakes with his wand movements, and the spell had no effect at all.
Hermione anxiously lowered her voice to remind him, but Ron was already irritable.
When she spoke, his face immediately turned red, and he snapped back quite loudly.
“I can do it myself!
I don’t need you telling me what to do all the time!” Hermione’s face turned pale, and she bit her lip, saying: “I just didn’t want you to make another mistake.” “I don’t need you to care!”
As soon as the bell rang, Hermione couldn’t hold it back anymore.
Her eyes welled up, and she grabbed her textbooks, turned, and rushed out of the classroom.
She ran all the way to the second floor and ducked into that secluded girls’ bathroom, locking the door tight.
Harry wanted to chase after her, but Ron pulled him back.
“Let her go!” Ron said stubbornly.
“She’ll be fine in a while.”
Harry sighed helplessly and could only let it be.
In the evening, the Halloween feast began.
The Great Hall was filled with jack-o’-lanterns, candles floated in the air, and the scent of roast turkey and desserts filled the air.
There was laughter and conversation everywhere.
As soon as Baelon sat down, his gaze habitually scanned the Gryffindor table.
Hermione’s seat was empty.
His heart sank slightly.
She was still in the bathroom.
Just then, the Great Hall doors were burst open.
Professor Quirrell stumbled in, his turban askew, his face deathly pale, shaking all over like a leaf in the autumn wind.
His voice cracked: “Tro—Troll!
There’s a Troll in the dungeon!
I had to come and tell you—!”
As soon as he finished speaking, his legs gave way, and he fainted straight onto the aisle.
The Great Hall instantly erupted into chaos, with screams and the sound of colliding tables and chairs everywhere.
Dumbledore immediately stood up to maintain order, and the Professors stepped forward to manage the students.
Baelon had almost no hesitation.
He turned his head and whispered to his roommate: “I’m going out for a moment.”
Without waiting for a response, he had already slipped out of the Great Hall silently through the chaotic crowd, heading quickly toward the second-floor girls’ bathroom.
He knew very well that Hermione was there alone, and it was too dangerous.
The corridor was dim, with torchlight flickering.
Just as he turned the corner, he heard a suppressed cry of alarm.
The bathroom door was pulled open a crack, and Hermione stood at the door, her face pale.
In front of her was a Mountain Troll, reeking of stench and holding a thick wooden club.
The Troll lowered its head, staring at her, and slowly raised the club in its hand.
Hermione was so scared her whole body went stiff, unable to move a step.
Baelon’s eyes turned cold, and his wrist flicked extremely fast.
“Incarcerous!”
The Troll’s legs suddenly froze, its center of gravity became unstable, and it fell heavily to the ground.
Before it could get up, a second spell followed immediately: “Stupefy!”
The red light hit the Troll’s forehead.
Its massive body swayed and crashed to the ground, completely motionless.
The whole process was quiet and swift, without a single wasted motion.
Baelon walked quickly to Hermione’s side, reached out to gently support her arm, and said calmly: “It’s okay, the Troll has been dealt with.”
Hermione was still shaking all over, her eyes red.
She looked at him, her voice trembling: “Thank…
thank you, Baelon.”
Just then, hurried footsteps came from the end of the corridor.
Harry and Ron ran over panting.
They saw the Troll on the ground and Hermione’s pale face, and both were startled.
Ron’s face instantly turned bright red.
He stood there awkwardly, scratching his head, his tone clumsy and guilty: “Hermione…
I’m sorry.
It was my fault this afternoon.
I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you.”
Harry also nodded quickly: “We shouldn’t have argued with you.
We were very worried about you.”
Hermione looked at them and sniffed.
Her tight lips slowly softened.
She was silent for a few seconds, then nodded gently, her voice a bit nasally: “…I also had my faults.
I shouldn’t have kept pointing out your mistakes.”
Ron immediately breathed a sigh of relief, a silly smile appearing on his face: “So we’re good?” “Yeah,” Hermione replied softly.
The friction of the previous few days vanished at this moment.
Baelon stood to the side, watching them reconcile.
He didn’t interject, just felt a slight sense of relief.
But Ron’s cry just now had already alerted those downstairs.
A few seconds later, hurried footsteps came from the stairs.
Professor McGonagall rushed to the front with a grim face, followed closely by Snape, his black robes billowing and his gaze as cold as ice.
“Who allowed you to leave the Great Hall without permission?!” McGonagall asked sharply.
“Do you know how dangerous a Troll is?!”
Snape’s gaze immediately landed on Harry and Ron, his tone cold and biting: “Potter, Weasley, for ignoring school rules and entering a dangerous area without permission, fifty points from Gryffindor.”
Harry and Ron panicked instantly, their faces turning pale, not know how to explain.
Baelon stepped forward, his expression calm and his tone steady, each word clear and logical: “Professor, they noticed Hermione wasn’t at the feast and were worried she might be in danger, so they came out to find her.”
“I also heard the commotion and came to help.
By the time I arrived, the Troll had already been subdued.
They were just worried about their classmate, not intentionally breaking school rules.”
Professor McGonagall looked at them, then at the Troll on the ground and Hermione, whose face was still pale.
Her expression gradually softened.
She sighed softly: “It’s right to care for your classmates, but next time you must tell a Professor first.
This time, no action will be taken.”
Snape glared fiercely at Harry and let out a cold snort, but finding no reason to argue, he could only let it go.
The chaos gradually subsided.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief.
Hermione looked at Baelon again, her eyes filled with sincere gratitude: “Thank you so much, Baelon.”
Baelon nodded gently, his tone flat: “It’s good that you’re okay.”
The Halloween lights swayed gently at the end of the corridor.
The crisis was averted, the conflict resolved, and everything returned to normal.
Baelon turned and walked away slowly, his expression still calm and indifferent.
He never liked to show off, but as long as it concerned friends he cared about, he would never let them be in danger.