Chapter 48

What is he doing? Snape wondered. Then the Troll made an entrance.

Literally.

Stone bricks flew across the room when Quirrell's beast tore its way through the wall as if it were made of paper, carrying the Granger girl in one hand as if she were a rag doll.

The Cerberus awoke and leapt. Snape, though he would never admit it, was reminded of the time he'd seen Godzilla Versus Mothra as a boy.

Stunned, Snape fumbled for his wand while the Cerberus collided with the Troll, knocking it to the ground. Granger was tossed across the room, and slid limply along the ground. She didn't move.

The Troll wrestled the larger beast off of it and grabbed an enormous flagstone that used to make up part of the third floor's ceiling. With a mighty heave, it brought the heavy chunk of stone down on one of the hound's heads. There was a sickening crunch, and the other two heads led out bellows of rage; blood and spit speckling the Troll. The Cerberus raked the Troll with sharp claws, gouging thick slashes in its tough hide. One of is heads went for the Troll's neck, but the Troll managed to wrestle its jaws open with its hands; the other head went for Granger.

Snape began to cast a spell, but someone beat him to it.

"Avada Kedavra," Snape heard someone say, and there was a blinding green flash. The Cerberus lay dead, and Quirrell stood in the centre of the room.

"A-a-are you a-alright, Miss G-G-Granger?" Quirrell asked, his voice full of concern. When Hermione didn't respond, Quirrell frantically tore a strip of cloth from his robe and tied it around her bleeding head.

"Episkey," he cast, and several of her smaller cuts and injuries healed rapidly. "I'm s-s-sorry," he said, "that's the b-b-best I c-can do until h-help arrives."

Quirrell, Snape noticed, never seemed to stammer when casting a spell. Well, at least now his plan is clear. Really, it was obvious in hindsight, Snape sighed. He should have seen it coming. Quirrell released the Troll not only as a distraction, but as an excuse to enter the forbidden corridor and kill Fluffy. He used a Forbidden Curse, but even those were technically legal against non-humans. It did further cement Snape's view that Quirrell had gone Dark, however. On top of everything, Quirrell would now be a hero in everyone's eyes. What this had to do with Milo, however, Snape still couldn't figure out.

Wait, he thought, why was the Troll holding Miss Granger?

He paused. Granger must have been in the hallways, and where there's Granger...

...there's Harry Potter.

Climbing over debris and deceased dog, Snape rushed through the Troll's wall entrance. The Troll itself lay gasping for breath under the hound's body.

Outside, in the hallway, was an... interesting sight. The window had been blown open, taking much of the surrounding frame with it. The ceiling had not one, but two troll-sized holes in it; one of them was at least mostly filled... by a great oak tree, which was, incidentally, on fire. Just down the hallway was another flattened wall, where the Troll had first entered. The sheer level of damage was unlike anything Snape had ever seen before—not even Fred and George... not even James and Sirius had ever... no-one, so far as Snape knew, had ever done so much raw, physical damage to the Hogwarts school in a thousand years, much less under a minute.

Surely, the Dark Lord's hand must be at work, here...

Snape shook himself out of his reverie, and began searching for Potter. The boy must live, everything—and everyone—else was expendable. Dimly, he was aware of movement behind him.

There was a brief, blinding flash as Dumbledore arrived, carried by his fiery bird.

"You can come out, now," said the Headmaster. The eccentric Headmaster, it seemed, had not taken Hallowe'en lightly, and was wearing an uncharacteristically sombre gray robe and hat. Of all things, a sword was buckled to his side. At first, Snape thought Dumbledore had directed the remark at him, but the Headmaster looked right at him and winked.

The Troll, burnt and bloody, staggered out of the forbidden third-floor corridor.

"You have damaged my school," the Headmaster said gravely. "You have injured my students." The Troll cocked its head to the side, as if it actually understood what he was saying. "And for these things that you have done," the Headmaster continued, "you will leave. Now."

There was no threat, just a simple statement of fact. The Troll stared at the Headmaster blankly.

"Fly, you fool," Dumbledore said quietly. The Troll turned and leapt out the window. Snape, dismissing his Disillusionment Charm, walked over to the edge. The Troll was running towards the Forbidden Forest as fast as it could go.

"Professor," Snape heard a weak voice from behind them. Dumbledore turned to see Harry and Ron lying, partially buried by (surprisingly dust-free) stone bricks.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! We have to get you to the hospital wing at once!" the Headmaster said in alarm.

"No, worry about us later," Harry said stoically. "Milo... was thrown out the window. He—I'm sure he—"

"Say no more, I'll take care of it," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "Snape, make sure these two—and Miss Granger, she should be around here somewhere—get to the hospital wing." With that, and a flash, he and his Phoenix vanished as quickly as they'd appeared.

o—o—o—o

"W-w-w-wingard... Wing... Wingardium Leviosa!" Hannah shouted, lifting Milo into the sky. She was sure—okay, pretty sure—okay, she hoped she'd found the window to the hospital wing.

Ten...

Milo slowly floated up to the fourth-storey window. Hannah hoped that someone inside would see him and help.

Nine...

She considered sending up sparks with her wand, or even using magic to break the window, but she wasn't sure she could do that and hold Milo at the same time.

Eight...

On the other hand, if necessary, she could always just shove him through the window.

Seven...

What would that accomplish? If there's nobody in there, there won't be anyone to help him.

Six...

Milo dropped to -9 hit points, not that Hannah knew that.

Five...

I'm sure someone will notice him eventually.

Four...

Though I'm not sure for how long I can keep this levitate running.

Three...

There was a loud Crack and a blinding flash. Dumbledore appeared in front of her, with a fiery bird perched on his shoulder.

Two...

Hannah's concentration broke, and abruptly she felt the strain of her Levitation Charm vanish. Milo, no longer protected by his Feather Fall, started to fall to the ground. Fawkes, with a mighty cry, leapt from Dumbledore's shoulder and flew towards the falling boy.

One...

o—o—o—o

Milo awoke to an all-too-familiar ceiling. He heard raised voices from the other side of the curtain surrounding his hospital bunk. He felt... well, pretty great, actually. It was sort of hard to put his finger on.

"No, I don't know when he'll wake up!" said the frustrated voice of Madam Pomfrey.

"You are a mediwitch, aren't you?" said the stern voice of McGonagall.

"Yes, and I'm fully trained and qualified to heal humans. What he is, I don't even—"

"So you're telling me you don't have a clue whether he's going to live or die."

"I'm telling you that he's survived life threatening injuries in the past; I don't even know if he can die."

"Uh," Milo said cheerfully. "I'm awake! Hello?"

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