He shook his head. There were so many unused classrooms like this. He wondered how long it had been since these rooms had a class in them. Were they no longer in use because the wizarding world had less students now? He knew that during the war against Voldemort a number of magical families had been killed. He just hadn't expected it to have affected classes like this.
Deciding he to the kitchens to satisfy his hunger, as he had no desire to go to the Halloween Feast, Harry left the room behind.
He walked down one of the many corridors on the second floor, passing by suits of armor, some bowing, others saluting, one even flipped him off.
Along with the suits of armor, Harry saw several portraits. They lined either side of the wall and he could see the people moving within the landscapes.
For a second, Harry entertained the idea of using the portraits to create a spy network to let him know what was going on in the castle. With the people within the portraits ability to move from one painting to the next and communicate with each other, the potential to have a spy network that expanded the entire school of Hogwarts was incredible. And the best part was that no one would be the wiser. Magical children tended to ignore the portraits as they had seen them there whole life, and while children of non-magical families were in awe of them the first few days, the novelty eventually wore off for them as well. No one would ever suspect that the old hag you passed by in a painting could very well be watching your every move and reporting it back to someone.
Of course, the potential for a spy network was only useful so long as no one else had thought of it. Harry did not doubt for one second that Dumbledore must have done so. He had to have. If the man had even an ounce of the intelligence and wisdom lauded to him, then he would have. And if he had, then he would be alerted to the fact that Harry was trying to form a spy network with the paintings as well, should he make an attempt.
The thought of using the network of paintings and portraits as spies was only a passing thought in the mind of Harry Potter. Potentially useful, but not worth the risks. He put it out of his mind a second later.
It was just as Harry let the last remaining vestige of his previous thoughts fade that a loud, shrill scream pierced the air. It was a sound that came from someone experiencing fear, a primal terror of someones deepest, darkest fears.
He also recognized the voice. It was several decibels higher than normal, and loud enough to rattle glass, but even with that change Harry's eidetic memory easily took the voice's pitch and tone, and reference it with the hundreds of other voices he had heard in his life to find a match.
It was Hermione Granger.
And she was screaming in fear.
The sounds of her scream were cut off and quickly followed by a loud bellowing that Harry had never heard before in his life. It didn't sound the least bit human. The roar was also followed by something else: the sound of something shattering and another shrill scream.
By the time Harry's mind caught up with the rest of his body, he realized that his legs were already taking him to the screams. He ran down the hall, turned a corner, cut down another hall, then turned left at the end. The scream sounded again, followed by a roar, followed by more shattering, and Harry soon stood in front of the girl's bathroom. The door was open.
Harry didn't even slow down as he bodily flew toward the entrance, running into the room without hesitation, only to skid to a stop at the sight before him.
The scene was not a pleasant one. The entire bathroom looked like a hurricane had swept through it, then a tornado decided to join in on the fun for good measure. All around the room lay broken and scattered pieces of toilets, stall doors, and chunks of twisted metal that looked like a giant had chewed them up, then spat them back out when he found their taste to be unpleasant.
He could see Hermione Granger huddled under the sink in the far corner, the only sink left, her form shivering in fear. And looming above her was the largest, ugliest creature he had ever seen.
It looked human, or at least humanoid. It stood on two large feet attached to equally large, ungainly legs. It wore nothing more than a loin cloth and a frayed looking sleeveless shirt to cover its body. A large belly hung over the front of its loin cloth, looking like those pot belly's that hung out of people's shirts and spilled over their pants; the kind of stomach Harry saw on people who were too lazy to exercise and drank too much alcohol. The massive, hulking figure had equally large hands. They looked like they could squash a human flat if given the chance. In one of those hands, the monster was gripping a large, wooden club, clearly the cause of the destruction to the room.
His gaze finally settled on the thing's face. Its head was disturbingly small compared to the rest of its body. It had a very dopey-looking facial expression. The creature's general features denounced a lack of intelligence. Black beady eyes were set above a large nose under an equally large mouth that had drool hanging from its lower lip, and he could see stained yellow teeth in its open mouth. It looked like a cross between a mentally deranged Rottweiler and a deformed baby. He recognized it from his self-study in defense as a troll.
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