The girls’ bathroom on the first floor was completely wrecked.
Water flowed out of the broken sinks and spread across the stone floor.
Professor McGonagall stepped into the room.
Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell walked right behind her.
They had searched the deep dungeons for the troll, finding nothing but empty halls.
They followed the noise of breaking pipes all the way up here.
They stopped near the middle of the room.
The giant mountain troll lay flat on its stomach.
It did not move.
It breathed in a slow, heavy rhythm.
Quirrell let out a small whimper and hid behind Snape.
Snape walked forward, favoring his right leg.
His leg was bleeding slightly, but he ignored it.
He looked down at the massive beast.
“It is knocked out,” Snape said quietly.
McGonagall looked around the room.
She looked for students.
She looked for any sign of a fight.
The room was empty.
“Who did this?” McGonagall asked.
She sounded completely baffled.
There were no portraits in this hallway.
Nobody saw anything.
Snape crouched down.
He looked at the troll’s legs.
He saw the dark, ugly bruises on the back of the troll’s knees.
He looked at the base of the troll’s thick skull.
He saw another massive bruise there.
“No magic was used here,” Snape said softly.
He stood back up.
He looked at McGonagall.
“Someone hit it.
They hit it very hard with a heavy object.
They brought it down with physical force.” McGonagall stared at him.
“Physical force?
Severus, it is a twelve-foot mountain troll.
Its skin repels basic spells.
You cannot simply punch a troll and knock it out.” “I am just telling you what I see,” Snape replied flatly.
“The beast was beaten.” They stood in the wet bathroom, entirely confused.
They did not understand how the troll got inside the castle, and they definitely did not understand who could beat a troll in a fistfight and simply walk away.
Down in the Hufflepuff basement, Edward slept peacefully.
He laid on his back, tangled in his warm yellow blankets, entirely unaware of the confused teachers upstairs.
The next morning arrived with a cold chill.
It was November 1st.
Edward woke up before the other boys.
The room was dark and quiet.
He sat up in bed and stretched his arms.
He felt a familiar excitement.
It was the first of the month.
“System,” Edward whispered into the dark room.
“Roll.” The glowing wheel appeared in the air.
It spun with bright colors.
Ten small orbs popped out and floated in a neat line.
He had five bronze orbs, four silver orbs, and one gold orb.
“Open bronze,” Edward said.
The five brown orbs popped open.
A YELLOW RUBBER DUCK.
A BAG OF FLOUR.
A RUSTY SPOON.
AN EMPTY GLASS BOTTLE.
A PLAIN ANBU MASK.
A white porcelain mask with red painted lines, styled like a cat face.
It has no special powers.
Edward looked at the pile of items on his blanket.
He picked up the white mask.
It was just a normal piece of painted porcelain, but he really liked the design.
He set the mask aside to keep it.
Edward looked at the pile of junk on his blanket.
He shook his head.
“A rusty spoon?
Really?
The system is just teasing me now.” He tossed the useless items into a dark corner of his hidden space.
He liked to keep his space clean.
“Open silver,” Edward commanded.
The four grey orbs shattered smoothly.
A THICK WOOL SCARF.
Dark grey and very warm.
1,000 POUNDS.
A neat stack of paper money.
1,000 POUNDS.
Another stack of paper money.
A BOX OF CHOCOLATE POCKY.
A popular snack from Japan.
“Much better,” Edward smiled.
He stored the money and the scarf.
He opened the box of Pocky and ate a chocolate biscuit stick.
It tasted great.
He looked at the final glowing orb.
It shone with a bright yellow light.
“Open gold,” Edward said.
The gold orb chimed and broke apart.
A heavy object dropped onto his bed, sinking into the mattress.
GOLD REWARD: WING CHUN TRAINING DUMMY (IP MAN MOVIE UNIVERSE).
Item Description: A solid wooden training dummy.
This dummy is enchanted.
When you strike the wooden arms, the dummy spins and strikes back at the same speed.
It forces the user to block and dodge constantly.
It is indestructible.
Edward picked up the wooden dummy.
It was the size of a small tree trunk, with three wooden arms and one wooden leg sticking out.
Edward grinned widely.
“This is perfect.” He did not want to wait.
He quietly got out of bed.
He put on his training clothes.
He snuck out of the Hufflepuff common room and walked up the stairs to the seventh floor.
The castle was completely silent.
He walked past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.
He paced back and forth three times, thinking about a place to train.
The wooden door appeared in the stone wall.
Edward walked inside.
The Room of Requirement gave him a wide, open space with soft mats on the floor.
Edward pulled the wooden dummy from his hidden space.
He set it upright in the middle of the room.
The dummy stood firmly on the mat, completely balanced.
Edward strapped his heavy weights to his wrists and ankles.
He took a breath.
He stepped forward and punched one of the wooden arms.
Smack!
The second his fist hit the wood, the entire dummy spun rapidly on its base.
The second wooden arm swung around and hit Edward right in the ribcage.
“Oof,” Edward grunted, taking a step back.
He smiled.
The dummy actually fought back.
Edward stepped in again.
He threw a fast combination of punches.
Smack, smack, smack!
The dummy spun like a top.
The wooden arms swung at his head, his chest, and his sides.
Edward had to duck, weave, and block with his forearms.
The faster he hit the dummy, the faster the wood swung back at him.
He trained for a full hour.
Sweat poured down his face.
His forearms turned dark with heavy bruises from hitting the solid wood.
His lungs burned.
He loved every second of it.
A blue screen popped up.
CURRENT SYNCHRONIZATION: 26%.
Edward stopped.
He breathed heavily, resting his hands on his knees.
He stored the wooden dummy back into his space.
He went down to the basement, took a hot shower, and put on his school uniform.
He made sure to hide the dark bruises on his arms.
Before breakfast, Edward walked out to the greenhouses.
He found Professor Sprout watering some plants.
“Good morning, Professor,” Edward said politely.
“Edward!
Good morning,” she smiled.
“What brings you out here so early?” “I tripped and took a rather hard fall on my arms,” Edward lied smoothly, rolling up his sleeve just enough to show a nasty purple bruise.
“I was hoping you might have a plant or a balm that could help with the bruising.” “Oh, you poor dear,” Sprout said, looking concerned.
She walked over to a table and handed him a small jar of thick green paste.
“Rub a bit of this over the marks.
They will fade by tomorrow.
Do be careful where you walk!” “Thank you, Professor,” Edward said.
He took the jar, rolled his sleeve back down, and walked back to the castle.
The month of November moved quickly.
The weather turned very cold.
The mountains around the school turned grey and covered themselves in snow.
The days following the Halloween troll incident brought the four friends very close.
Hermione stopped acting so bossy all the time.
One chilly afternoon, the four of them sat in the courtyard during a break between classes.
They huddled near a fire Hermione created in a jam jar.
Harry looked very stressed about his upcoming Quidditch match.
Hermione reached into her bag.
She pulled out a book called Quidditch Through the Ages.
“Here, Harry,” Hermione said softly, handing him the book.
“Read this.
It will help you relax.” Harry took the book.
“Thanks, Hermione.” Suddenly, Professor Snape walked past them.
He limped heavily on his right leg.
He stopped and looked down at Harry.
“What do you have there, Potter?” Snape asked coldly.
Harry showed him the book.
Snape’s eyes narrowed.
“Library books are not to be taken outside the school.
Give it to me.
Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape snatched the book from Harry’s hands.
He turned and limped away across the courtyard.
Harry watched him go.
His face looked very serious.
“Did you see his leg?” Harry asked in a low voice.
“Last night, during the Halloween feast, I saw Snape sneaking through the side door when every other teacher went down to the dungeons.” “What do you mean?” Ron asked.
“I think he let the troll in as a distraction,” Harry explained.
“He wanted to sneak up to the third floor.” Hermione shook her head.
“No teacher of Hogwarts would do something like that, Harry.
They are here to protect us.” “But that is Snape we are talking about,” Ron pointed out, looking at Hermione.
“He hates everyone.” “I am going to get my book back,” Harry decided.
Harry stood up and walked into the castle.
He went toward the staffroom.
Ten minutes later, Harry came running back out to the courtyard.
He looked completely out of breath.
“You were right, Ron,” Harry panted, sitting down quickly.
“I opened the staffroom door.
Snape was in there with Filch.
Snape had his robes pulled up.
His leg was completely mangled and bloody.
I heard him say, ‘How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?'” Hermione gasped.
“The three-headed dog,” Ron whispered, his eyes wide.
“Exactly,” Harry said.
“He tried to get past that dog on Halloween, and it bit him.
He is after whatever the dog is guarding.” Edward sat back and warmed his hands over the fire jar.
He listened to them connect the dots.
The puzzle was coming together nicely.
Finally, the day of the first Quidditch match arrived.
Gryffindor was playing Slytherin.
Saturday morning was bright and freezing cold.
Edward sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.
He did not care about the house rules anymore, and nobody tried to stop him.
Harry sat at the table, pushing a piece of sausage around his plate.
He looked sick.
“You have to eat something, Harry,” Hermione said softly.
“I am not hungry,” Harry mumbled.
Edward reached into his hidden space under the table.
He pulled out a fresh chocolate biscuit stick from his Gacha box.
He snapped it in half and put it on Harry’s plate.
“Eat the chocolate,” Edward said simply.
“Sugar gives you fast energy.
You need to stay awake up there.” Harry smiled a little.
He picked up the chocolate and ate it.
By eleven o’clock, the entire school walked down to the Quidditch stadium.
Edward walked up the high wooden stairs of the Gryffindor stand with Ron and Hermione.
They found a spot near the front.
Dean Thomas, a boy from Gryffindor, stood next to them.
He held a giant banner made from one of Scabbers’ ruined bedsheets.
The banner had a huge Gryffindor lion painted on it with the words “Potter for President.” “Hold still, Dean,” Hermione said.
She tapped the sheet with her wand.
The paint instantly started to flash different bright colors.
A heavy hand landed on Ron’s shoulder.
Hagrid squeezed into the row behind them.
He brought giant, thick brass binoculars strapped around his neck to watch the game.
“Alright, you three?” Hagrid asked happily.
“Edward, good to see you, lad.” The teams flew out onto the pitch.
The crowd roared.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the game began.
Edward watched the game.
It looked very fast and very rough.
Heavy iron Bludgers flew through the air.
Harry flew high above the game, looking for the Golden Snitch.
Suddenly, a cold, drawling voice spoke behind them.
“Enjoying his last game, Weasley?” Draco Malfoy stood in the aisle.
Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him.
Draco looked at Ron with a nasty sneer.
“It is a pity they do not have a net at the bottom to catch him when he falls.” Ron turned red.
He opened his mouth to shout back.
Edward stood up from his seat.
He turned around and faced Draco.
He put his hands in his pockets.
“Well-now-would-ya-look-at-da-state-of-dis-lad,” Edward said loudly.
He used his thickest, fastest Irish traveler accent.
He slurred every word together into a muddy mess.
“Come-round-here-flappin’-yer-gums-like-a-dead-fish-on-a-dock.
Does-yer-mammy-know-yer-out-here-lookin’-like-a-proper-melted-candle?” Draco froze.
His sneer vanished.
He stared at Edward’s mouth.
“I…
what?” Draco stammered.
“I-said-ya-look-like-a-bad-penny-dat-keeps-turnin’-up,” Edward rattled on, stepping closer.
“Yer-whole-family-tree-must-be-a-straight-line-wit-da-way-ya-talk-nonsense.
Go-on-now, back-to-yer-little-hole-before-I-make-ya-cry-fer-yer-daddy.” Draco’s pale face turned bright pink.
He looked at Crabbe and Goyle.
They both just stared at Edward, completely lost.
Draco did not want to stand there looking stupid.
He could not understand a single insult, but he knew he was being mocked.
He turned around and practically ran back down the wooden stairs, his bodyguards hurrying after him.
Ron and Hermione burst out laughing.
“That never gets old,” Ron wheezed, holding his stomach.
A few minutes later, Edward looked back up at the game.
Harry was high in the air.
Suddenly, his broom gave a violent jerk.
Harry slipped to the side.
He held on tightly with both hands.
The broom started bucking wildly.
It zig-zagged through the air.
It tried to shake Harry off like a wild horse.
“What is happening to his broom?” Ron asked, sounding panicked.
Hermione grabbed her brass binoculars.
She looked up at Harry, then she started scanning the crowd.
“I knew it,” Hermione gasped.
“Snape.
Look.” She handed the binoculars to Ron.
Edward just used his sharp eyesight.
He looked across the stadium to the teachers’ stand.
Professor Snape stood there.
Snape kept his eyes locked firmly on Harry.
Snape’s lips moved rapidly in a continuous mutter.
“He is jinxing the broom,” Ron said, his face turning pale.
“What do we do?” “He is not blinking,” Hermione said fiercely.
“A jinx requires constant eye contact to work.
Leave it to me.” She stood up and ran down the wooden stairs of the stand.
Edward watched her go.
He leaned back in his seat and pulled a bag of warm peanuts from his pocket.
He chewed a peanut.
He watched the teachers’ stand.
High in the air, the broom gave a massive leap.
Harry swung completely off the seat.
He hung from the broom handle by one single hand.
The crowd screamed in terror.
Edward kept his eyes on the teachers’ stand.
He saw Hermione crouch down and sneak under the benches.
She rushed forward.
In her hurry, she crashed right into the back of Professor Quirrell’s legs.
Quirrell yelled in surprise.
He tumbled headfirst into the row in front of him, landing flat on his face.
Hermione did not stop.
She reached Snape.
She pointed her wand at the hem of Snape’s cloak and shot a spark of blue fire.
Snape’s cloak caught fire instantly.
Snape jumped up, swatting at the flames.
The eye contact broke completely.
Up in the sky, Harry’s broom stopped bucking.
It leveled out smoothly.
Harry pulled himself back onto the seat.
“He is back!” Ron cheered loudly.
Harry leaned forward on his broom.
He went into a steep dive.
He pulled out of the dive at the very last second.
He tumbled off his broom and rolled into the dirt.
He knelt on the ground, holding a hand to his mouth.
Harry coughed.
A tiny, golden ball popped out of his mouth and landed in his hand.
“I caught the Snitch!” Harry yelled.
The crowd went crazy.
The whistle blew.
Gryffindor won the match.
“Come on,” Hagrid said, clapping Ron on the back.
“Let’s get down to my hut for a warm cup of tea.” They walked down from the stands and went straight to Hagrid’s wooden hut on the edge of the forest.
The hut was warm.
Hagrid poured them strong, hot tea.
Harry sat in a large wooden chair.
He looked shaken.
“It was Snape,” Harry told Hagrid.
“Hermione and Ron saw him.
He was cursing my broom.
He tried to kill me.” Hagrid stopped pouring the tea.
“Rubbish.
Why would Snape do something like that?” “I found out something about him,” Harry insisted.
“He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween.
It bit him.
We think he let the troll in to cause a distraction.” Hagrid dropped the teapot on the table with a loud clatter.
“How do you know about Fluffy?” Hagrid demanded, looking shocked.
“Fluffy?” Ron asked, his jaw dropping.
“That thing has a name?” Hermione added in disbelief.
“Of course he has a name, he is mine,” Hagrid said proudly.
“I bought him off an Irish fellow I met in the pub last year.
I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…” Hagrid stopped talking.
He looked at the kids.
“Guard the what?” Harry asked quickly.
“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” Hagrid said gruffly.
“That is top secret, that is.” “But Snape is trying to steal it!” Harry argued.
“Rubbish,” Hagrid said again.
“Snape is a Hogwarts teacher.
He would do no such thing.” “Then why did he try to kill Harry?” Hermione asked.
“I don’t know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’t try to kill a student!” Hagrid said.
He looked very flustered.
He pointed a thick finger at them.
“Now, listen to me, all four of you.
You are meddling in things that don’t concern you.
It is dangerous.
You forget that dog, and you forget what it is guarding.
That is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel.” Hagrid froze.
His eyes went wide.
He realized what he just said.
“Nicolas Flamel?” Harry repeated slowly.
Hagrid groaned.
He looked furious with himself.
He turned around and started putting the teacups away, refusing to say another word.
Edward sat in the corner of the hut.
He drank his strong tea.
He looked at his friends.
The puzzle was almost complete.