Chapter -84.
The young wizards at Hogwarts were having a blast, enjoying a delicious feast spread out on the long tables while grooving to the lively tunes of the skeleton band. It was quite the celebration!
Just as Dudley was savoring his twenty-eighth lamb chop, Professor Quirinus Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, burst into the dining hall looking absolutely terrified, as if he had just seen a ghost.
Professor Quirrell, a Ravenclaw alum and the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, had previously taught Muggle Studies. He was known for his stuttering during lessons, and while Dudley didn't think much of him, he was definitely familiar with his rather unique smell.
Along with a strange scent of decay, there was a strong whiff of garlic in the air.
It's worth noting that Quirrell used to be quite brilliant and had a solid grasp of magical theory, but after a trip to Albania, he seemed to have changed quite a bit.
When he noticed everyone staring at him, he stumbled over to Professor Dumbledore's chair, leaned against the table, and gasped, "Troll... in the underground classroom, I thought you should know."
His disheveled look suggested he had just had a close encounter with the troll, and after delivering his message, he collapsed onto the floor, out cold.
Panic erupted in the dining hall.
Dudley frowned slightly.
Just a troll?
From what he knew, Professor Quirrell was pretty good at handling trolls; he had even subdued one during his time at Hogwarts. Sure, trolls were more dangerous than ogres, but a single troll was more of a nuisance than a real threat to adult wizards.
Quirrell's reaction was definitely out of the ordinary.
Dudley glanced up at Dumbledore, surprised he hadn't noticed the commotion sooner.
Dumbledore raised his voice to calm the younger wizards, especially the little ones who were starting to panic.
Holding his wand, he searched for the right words; for the younger students, a troll was definitely a scary creature.
"Prefects, stand up," Dumbledore said in a commanding voice. "Take your house students back to the dormitory right away!"
The younger wizards, led by their prefects, started making their way toward the Slytherin common room.
Of course, it wasn't the seventh-year Carrow leading them, but a fifth-year prefect who was taking charge for the first time.
Dudley naturally followed along.
He wasn't particularly worried about trolls; the only potion ingredient you could get from one was its mucus, and that was something you could easily buy.
Plus, the smell from the troll was just too awful.
How to describe it? It was like a mix of rotten onions and cabbage, with a hint of three-year-old herring, plus the scent of decayed butter and decades-old fermented waste.
Suddenly, a peculiar stench wafted by, making Dudley's eyes light up.
"Yes, that's the smell."
Malfoy, who was right behind Dudley, asked, "D, what is that smell?"
And he quickly found out.
"Ugh, it stinks!"
Malfoy covered his nose and gagged a few times.
The other young wizards around them started gagging too, and a couple of them couldn't hold it in and actually threw up. This set off a chain reaction, with young wizards retching one after another.
The combination of the foul smell and vomit was just unbearable.
"Troll! It's a troll!"
The prefect seemed to realize it too, cautiously scanning the area, worried the troll would show up at any moment, while urging the younger wizards to head back the way they came. But many of them were already on the ground, nearly losing their lunch.
To avoid congestion, the routes back for the upper and lower years were different.
Only Slytherin was heading downwards, so the other three houses weren't nearby.
Right now, the only ones who could deal with the troll were themselves.
The fifth-year prefect looked super tense, his fingers gripping his wand so tightly they were turning white, completely losing the calm demeanor he had earlier.
Seeing that Dudley was the only one still standing among the entire Slytherin lower-year group, despair crossed the prefect's face.
"Quick, go find the other prefects and professors."
He couldn't just leave the younger students behind and run away.
"I think it's already too late." Dudley pointed to the corner, where a figure was slowly becoming visible.
That strong stench meant the giant was close.
It was a monster at least twelve feet tall, with dull, granite-like skin and a massive, clumsy body that looked like a pile of giant rubble, topped with a small head like a cocoa bean.
Its short legs were as thick as tree stumps, and its flat, coarse feet were calloused.
It held a thick wooden stick in its hand, dragging it along the ground with its long arms.
"Run, I'll hold it off!"
The prefect shouted, then drew his wand and pointed it at the giant: "Obstacles!"
This was a simple spell often used in wizard duels to slow down an opponent.
With a flick of his wand, blue-green sparks flew from the tip, and countless transparent barriers appeared around the giant, blocking its path and slowing it down even more.
Obstacles can do one of four things: pause the opponent, push them back, create barriers, or directly slow them down.
The prefect clearly aimed to create barriers.
Unfortunately, these obstacles could be easily broken by a simple physical attack.
And strength was exactly what the giant had in spades.
The giant let out a roar, smashing the wooden stick down with tremendous force, instantly shattering it.
The prefect seemed to have anticipated this; all he needed to do was stall the giant for a moment and prepare another spell: "Avis!"
Countless birds flew out from the tip of his wand, surrounding the giant and pecking at it, but this level of attack barely tickled the giant.
That seemingly dim-witted giant was distracted by the magical birds, reaching out to try to catch them.
The prefect seized this chance and cast another spell, this time targeting the weapon in the giant's hand.
"Reducto!"
The large wooden stick shattered into countless pieces.
That thing could have caused serious harm to the little wizards from Slytherin if it had swept through.
With another wave of his wand, several vines sprouted from the surrounding walls, wrapping around the giant's limbs and lifting its body into the air, rendering it unable to move.
A transformation spell.
In theory, dealing with a giant like this should be covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, but Hogwarts' current Defense Against the Dark Arts class was practically nonexistent.
So even as a fifth-year prefect, his experience in handling giants was zero.
This prefect was simply relying on his own wits to confront the giant.
Each spell was perfectly timed, whether it was a curse or a transformation spell, both executed with impressive skill.
Dudley was amazed by this style of wizard combat.
At the same time, he was thinking about how he would handle the giant if he were in the same situation.
Most likely, he would take it out before it even had a chance to cast its first spell.
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Note : Guys, some power stones will be really helpful.