Chapter 45

o—o—o—o

"All students, return immediately to your Common Rooms," said a beleaguered Professor Trelawney—an attack by a Troll was enough to knock even the Divinations Professor out of her usual half-asleep daze—to a group of Gryffindors lounging in the Great Hall.

"Excuse me, Professor," said Percy, the Gryffindor Prefect. "what's going on?"

"There's a Troll loose on the second floor!" she said anxiously. "And to think of all the poor students who saw the Grim today..."

"Right! Just leave it to me, Professor," said Percy, standing to his full height (as if that would do much against the twelve-foot-tall monstrosity on the loose). "Gryffindors, come with me! Are we missing anyone?"

The Gryffindors, mostly first years, looked around at each other.

"Hannah's outside, by the Lake," said Lavender Brown.

"And Milo's with Snape," said Ron.

"Professor Snape, Ronald," corrected Percy. "And he'll be fine if he's with a professor. I'll find Hannah after I've walked you all to the tower, come along—quickly, now!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a quick look as the other Gryffindors started filing out of the massive room.

"Snape must have released the Troll!" Harry exclaimed to the others. "We've got to go find Milo."

"Professor Snape can't have released the Troll, the key was in the Headmaster's office," said Hermione.

"So, what, Dumbledore set the Troll loose? Obviously someone must have pulled a fast one on him," said Ron. "And now Milo's alone with old batface, and it's a perfect time to just throw him out a window and say the Troll did it. Let's go, Hermione," Ron pleaded.

"But—"

"I'm done talking," Harry said. "Our friend could be in danger right now. Hannah's outside, she's probably the safest of all of us. I'm going, with or without you two," and with that, Harry stood up from his table and walked away from the group.

"Harry Potter!" said Percy. "Where are you going? The Common Room is that way!"

"Going with Trelawney," lied Harry. "To help find the Hufflepuffs—you know how they are."

"Good man!" said Percy. "Best take Ronald with you—he could use someone like you as a role model. Well—good luck," he said, and left leading the others.

"Someone like you as a role model," sneered Ron. "Wonder what he'd say about that if you knew you lied right to his face? Grumblegrumblegrumble..." Ron trailed off.

Hermione sighed.

"All right, I'm coming with you. Someone has to keep you two from getting into trouble," she said airily. Secretly, her heart was racing with excitement and anticipation.

"Great job you've done so far," said Ron.

"Enough talking," snapped Harry. "Wands out, and let's go, already. Hermione—ask the paintings if they've seen Milo or Snape anywhere. They'll talk to you, you're top of all our classes."

"Not History of Magic," said Hermione, her face flushing slightly.

"Ron, keep an eye out for teachers and prefects," said Harry. "Oh, and rampaging Trolls."

o—o—o—o

Why, Milo wondered (briefly), am I looking up at the floor?

—Thud—

Milo hit the ground—hard.

"I have to stop doing that," he groaned. He'd gotten lucky and made his Reflex Save for half damage when the Troll dropped a wall on his face, but was somewhat less fortunate on his follow-up Grapple check to avoid being thrown across the room. A normal human would have broken numerous bones or died, but adventurers are somewhat more resilient than that. In total, he'd taken 8 points of damage—and for those of you keeping track back home, that put him at precisely 0 hp. That left him Disabled, meaning he can either shuffle about slowly or try to attack (or cast a spell), but doing the latter will knock him unconscious and dying.

Milo crawled slowly around a corner, and tried to stay as silent as possible. Next time, he thought, make sure there's a Potion of Cure Light Wounds in your Belt of Hidden Pouches.

Snape was nowhere to be seen.

I need a distraction.

"Sorry, Mordy," he whispered to his familiar. He had a bad feeling that, in a few levels, when Mordy could speak back, he'd be getting an earful for this.

Mordenkainen, rodent extraordinaire, leapt out of his home in Milo's belt and scurried around the corner to the Troll. Milo couldn't see what happened, but heard a mighty roar worthy of an Elder Wyrm, and then a loud crash.

While the alleged Troll was occupied, Milo got to work. Reaching into his Belt, he grabbed his flasks of oil and unstoppered their lids. Oil from his universe goes a long way, and was enough to cover a five-foot square. The hallway was closer to ten feet wide, and so Milo used four flasks to cover the whole hallway ten feet deep. He then spread caltrops (nasty, spiky contraptions) across the hallway as well.

Lastly, he (very carefully) took out a small, extremely valuable feather. The feather, much stiffer and heavier than a mundane feather, was one of Milo's most treasured possessions. It only worked once, and, while he had three of them, he wasn't getting any more until he could return home. Gingerly, he placed it on the ground in the oil, surrounded by caltrops.

"Hey, ugly!" Milo shouted around the corner. "Leave my friend alone!" On cue, Mordy scurried away from the Troll, up Milo's leg, and into his magic belt.

The Troll gave a mighty roar and charged Milo's position.

Milo grinned an evil sort of grin.

As the Troll placed its first heavy footstep on the oil-slick polished stone floor, it lost its balance. It slid forwards a few feet, an almost comical expression of surprise on its ugly features. It then fell backwards onto the hard floor—and the scattered caltrops. They weren't even close to powerful enough to deal any real damage, but all Milo needed was to keep the troll in position for a round. The Troll let loose a bellow of pain that shook the castle as Milo muttered the command word to his Feather Token.

For those unfamiliar, the Tree Feather Token is the most useful magic item ever devised. On command, it instantly creates an entirely real, nonmagical oak tree five feet wide and sixty feet tall.

There was a swift, sudden breeze and a loud pop as a tree appeared in front of Milo. It didn't grow, it didn't start small and swell up, it was just there.

The ceilings in Hogwarts were as varied as the halls, paintings, and geography on a day-to-day basis, but here they were only eight feet tall (the Troll had to stoop). The tree, which appeared directly underneath the Troll, blasted it through the ceiling. And the one after that. And the one after that.

In total, the Troll was pushed bodily through seven floors, including three hallways, two unused classrooms, Professor Binn's quarters, and the Hufflepuff common room, which was now home to the forty-foot-wide canopy of a great oak tree.

"Quaal," Milo said weakly to the mythical inventor of the Feather Tokens, "I'm leaving everything to you in my will."

Crash.

"Uh," said Milo.

Crash.

"That really can't be good."

Crash.

"I'll just hobble away at half speed, shall I?" Milo limped down the hallway, which ended in a dead-end, and a large window.

Crash.

"Milo!" Milo heard someone say. "We're here, to, ah, rescue you..."

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