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“Wingardium Leviosa.” Ivan kept his voice low.
The rock cakes lifted from the floor and drifted at eye level so the troll’s tiny head would actually notice them instead of simply stepping over.
He still felt uneasy.
The book claimed trolls were stupid.
That did not guarantee this one would walk straight into an obvious trap.
The creature proved even dumber than expected.
It showed none of the basic caution any ordinary animal would have displayed.
Food appeared; food was taken.
The troll even dropped its club so both hands were free, stuffing the cakes into its mouth with pure glutton enthusiasm.
Ivan briefly wondered whether Quirrell had been shorting its rations and pocketing the leftover Galleons.
His shoulders loosened.
The escape tools in his left pocket would probably not be needed after all.
A few minutes later the last cake disappeared.
The troll did not fall.
It stood there sniffing the air, hunting for more.
Ivan stared.
The dose he had used was strong enough to drop several adult wizards.
The troll showed nothing.
That was not scientific—no, that was not magical.
Maybe his Level 3 Potions skill was still too shallow.
He was still deciding whether to attack when a sharp cry cut through the corridor.
Hermione stood at the far corner, frozen.
The troll immediately snatched up its club again and lumbered toward her with sudden interest.
Ivan understood at once.
The crash of the dropped club had drawn her.
She had been crying in the bathroom, felt the floor shake, and come to look.
He cursed under his breath.
If he had set the trap farther away this would not have happened.
Of course, farther away also meant he could no longer guarantee the troll would pass through at all.
Hermione’s body refused to obey.
Her mind screamed run, but her legs had gone soft.
She had never imagined she would meet a creature like this inside Hogwarts.
Just as she accepted she was about to die, a cold voice rang out.
“Fear Descent.” A bright purple light struck the troll’s chest.
The target was large enough that missing was almost impossible.
The creature stopped mid-step and stood swaying, eyes blank.
Ivan stepped out of the side passage at the same moment.
“Ivan!” Hermione launched herself at him like a drowning person grabbing the only rope in sight.
Her arms locked around his neck; tears still wet on her cheeks.
“Shh.” He freed his left arm without gentleness and kept the wand raised, pouring more power into the Fear Curse.
Hermione’s face coloured, but she followed his gaze and realised the troll had not simply been knocked out.
“What’s wrong with it?” she whispered.
Ivan only shook his head for silence.
This reaction was new.
To maximise the fear he had forced the image of Fluffy—vast, three-headed, and slightly fatter than memory—into the place where Hermione stood.
The troll was clearly confused.
The small, oddly dressed human had turned into a familiar three-headed dog that looked like it had been overeating.
The creature tilted its head, trying to decide what to do next.
Hermione’s eyes asked the same question without words.
Ivan hesitated only a second.
Time was limited; professors could arrive at any moment.
If he lost this chance, the next opportunity would be under the trapdoor Fluffy guarded.
He was not ready for that.
He mouthed instructions and gestured: use Levitation, take the club, smash it into the troll’s skull.
The same method Harry and Ron had used in the original timeline.
Even if it failed, at least the weapon would be gone.
Hermione looked doubtful, but she trusted him enough to try.
She was not faster than the troll.
After several failed attempts at “communication,” the creature simply attacked.
The club—thicker than a grown man’s waist—came down with the full force of a twelve-foot body behind it.
For the first time in a long while Ivan felt genuine, immediate death.
He spent the last of his Academic Points without hesitation.
The number dropped to single digits.
In the same instant the Top Student Experience Card activated and his thoughts accelerated a hundredfold.
Trajectory, follow-up swing, recovery time—all of it mapped in a fraction of a second.
He spun, locked an arm around Hermione, and rolled hard across the floor.
The club hit the corner behind them.
Stone exploded.
A whole section of wall vanished in a cloud of dust and rubble.
The Fear Curse shattered with the impact.
The troll finally understood it had been played.
It raised the club again—then staggered after only two steps.
Its head lolled.
The sleeping potion, delayed by the creature’s high resistance, had finally begun to work.
The troll lurched sideways and drove its forehead into the opposite wall.
Ivan was already on his feet, dragging Hermione back more than ten metres.
The troll shook its head, still foggy, but the rage remained.
It did not understand why the world had suddenly gone soft.
Smashing the two small humans, however, was still the correct decision.
It charged.
Ten metres was nothing to a creature that size.
It would cover the distance in seconds.
Those seconds were all Ivan needed.