The three of us were deeply engaged in conversation about how the heck we were going to stop the xenomorph boggart infestation. Harry wanted to introduce them to an even scarier monster, Ron thought we should just leave it alone and let people's fears dissipate on its own. I advocated for showing Aliens to show how the xenomorphs could be fought.
"XENOMORPH IN THE DUNGEONS!" Quirrell screamed, running into the room in a blind panic. No one even blinked. They weren't going to get excited for a boggart. "What's that? Oh, and THERE'S ALSO A TROLL!" He then proceeded to faint near the Slytherin table.
Now people started screaming and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Harry had turned chalk white. "Oh my God," he muttered. "It's finally happened. Chemtrailsarereal found a way into the school!"
I slammed my head against the table. "Harry. It's not that kind of troll. It's the kind of troll that eats people."
"Oh. Well, that's certainly better than Chemtrailsarereal being here!"
"How are you even like this?" Ron demanded.
Harry shrugged. "I was born in a crossfire hurricane," he started singing, only to be interrupted by Headmaster Dumbledore launching firecrackers into the air to make everyone silent.
"Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Headmaster Dumbledore shouted.
Harry gripped the end of the table with such intensity I was worried it might break off. Fury lined every feature of his face. "That monster. Doesn't he remember our dorms are in the dungeons?!"
"Honestly, from what you've told me, I'm not convinced the answer is yes," I pointed out.
Harry spat in Professor Dumbledore's direction and the hall instantly went silent and looked at him. It was astonishing how many people looked at this eleven year old as a leader. "Our dorms are in the dungeons. With the xenomorph – I mean troll."
"You'll be fine, Tom," Headmaster Dumbledore said dismissively. This did not fill me with any sort of confidence.
"You're off your rocker," Harry said contemptuously and gasps filled the hall. I even thought Quirrell might have gasped, which was strange given how unconscious he was supposed to be. I should have paid attention to that. "I will not permit us to be marched off to our deaths."
Dumbledore stood up and drew his wand. "You will do as I say, young man. I am the headmaster and the leader of the light!"
Harry banged his fists on the table repeatedly. "HELL NO, WE WON'T GO!" he screamed and I watched, astonished, as a chorus of those words echoed throughout the halls, even from the tables of the other houses. Even the prefect Percy Weasley, who'd actually broken into tears upon seeing Ron at one point, was saying it.
Dumbledore looked befuddled and this time around, I could hardly blame him. This was probably the first time he'd been openly challenged by so many people who weren't actively trying to kill him. "Er, perhaps I erred slightly…you shall stay here while –"
"While we get justice!" Harry shouted. "I think we all know who's responsible for this incident. The troll was obviously let in deliberately as part of the Machiavellian, conniving schemes of Professor –"
And then Quirrell suddenly rose from the floor and fired a spell that blew a hole into the wall at the other side of the room – and missed its intended target of Harry's head by mere millimeters. Harry looked absolutely gobsmacked and no wonder. Everyone ducked and covered as Quirrell threw a spell in our direction that blasted a huge, gaping hole through the table. A piece of rubble ricocheted and struck a third year in the upper chest, near the shoulder.
At this point, the staff started firing spells at Quirrell's direction. Everyone except for Professor O'Neill, who decided to cower behind a curtain instead. Maybe Harry had a point about them. Quirrell easily blocked all of the spells. I didn't understand what was even happening. How did this man frightened of his own shadow suddenly turn into a dark archwizard?
.....
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