The Search for Love - Chapter 6 - Fighting a Troll (Patreon)

Harry skidded around the corner, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He froze mid-step, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest as he took in the scene before him. In the center of the hallway stood a troll, its massive form almost scraping the ceiling above. The creature was even more imposing than he had imagined, based on the description in the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, its dull, gray skin stretched tight over bulging muscles.

Harry’s gaze darted to the side, just beyond the troll. There, half-obscured by the creature’s hulking frame, was a girl. Her back was pressed against the cold stone wall. She looked completely trapped, and Harry realized with a sinking feeling that she had likely been the source of the scream that had brought him here.

He didn’t have time to think—he needed to act. “Hey, ugly! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” he yelled as loud as he could, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

The troll’s reaction was immediate. It turned slowly, its small, malicious eyes locking onto Harry. But as it did, Harry’s stomach dropped. The troll was even bigger than he had thought, and the club it wielded looked as wide as Hagrid. The sight of the massive weapon made Harry’s bravado falter for a brief moment.

They stared at each other, the troll’s eyes narrowing as it slowly processed the new target. For a few agonizing seconds, neither moved, and Harry’s mind raced with what to do next. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blonde hair—the girl. She was taking advantage of his distraction, slipping away into another hallway through a doorway the troll would never be able to fit through. Relief washed over Harry; she was safe.

The sight of her escape snapped Harry out of his paralysis. Without thinking, he spun on his heel and bolted back the way he had come, his feet pounding against the cold stone floor. Just as he turned, the troll let out an angry bellow and swung its club with surprising speed. The massive weapon whooshed through the air, narrowly missing Harry. The force of the swing was so strong that the wind from it nearly knocked Harry off his feet.

He stumbled, his heart hammering in his chest, but he kept running, his legs pumping as fast as they could carry him. Behind him, the troll’s heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, each thundering step shaking the ground. Harry didn’t dare look back—he knew the troll was gaining on him. He was pretty sure that for every five of Harry’s strides, the troll only needed to take one, and the creature’s massive legs were rapidly closing the distance between them.

Harry’s eyes darted from side to side as he ran past several doors, but he didn’t dare stop. If he ducked into a classroom, he might trap himself with no way out, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the troll wouldn’t just smash through the hallway wall to get to him. The thought of being cornered by the giant beast with no way out sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

He could hear the troll’s ragged breathing now, the sound mixing with its thunderous footsteps, and realized the troll had closed the distance and was almost on top of him. It was too close—much too close. Desperation surged through him, and he spun around as he dove forward, raising his wand. “Lumos!” he shouted as loudly as he could, pouring every bit of his fear and determination into the spell.

The tip of his wand flared to life, emitting a blinding flash of light, brighter than anything he had conjured so far. The hallway was suddenly filled with an intense, dazzling brightness, and the troll, caught off guard, let out a bellow of pain and confusion. It stopped in its tracks, its enormous hands flying to its eyes as it dropped its club, which had been in mid-swing towards Harry, with a heavy thud that reverberated through the floor.

Harry seized the moment. The troll was disoriented, temporarily blinded by the light. He gritted his teeth and raised his wand again, aiming directly at the creature’s chest. “Stupefy!” he bellowed, trying to channel every ounce of magic he could muster into the Stunning Spell.

A red jet of light shot from his wand, striking the troll squarely in the chest. The creature let out a low groan, its body shuddering from the impact, but it didn’t fall. Instead, it seemed to sway on its feet, dazed but still standing.

Harry’s heart sank. Even though Harry had read that trolls were notoriously resistant to magic, he had really hoped that the spell would be enough to knock it out. The creature shook its massive head, trying to clear the lingering effects of the flash and the Stunning Spell, and Harry knew he was running out of time.

He needed another plan, and fast. The troll was already starting to recover, its beady eyes narrowing in anger as it focused on Harry once more. Harry glanced around frantically, searching for anything he could use. His gaze landed on the troll’s discarded club, lying on the floor just a few feet away.

An idea sparked in his mind. It was risky, but it might just work.

He prepared to raise his wand again, but before he could cast another spell, the troll let out a roar of anger, reached down, and grabbed its club. The creature charged at Harry with terrifying speed. Instinct kicked in, and Harry dove between the troll’s legs, barely dodging the massive club as it whooshed through the air where he had been standing moments before.

The troll’s momentum carried it forward, and Harry risked a quick glance over his shoulder just in time to see the beast crash headfirst into the stone wall with a deafening thud. For a brief moment, Harry allowed himself a smile. The troll was momentarily stunned, the impact having left a giant head-shaped hole in the wall. Dust and debris rained down around the troll as it staggered backwards, shaking its massive head.

But Harry’s smile quickly faded as the troll recovered faster than he’d hoped. It turned its small, angry eyes on him once more, bellowing in rage. Without hesitation, the troll took off after him again, each thunderous step making the floor beneath Harry’s feet tremble. Though the first few steps were a bit slower, the troll quickly regained its speed and began closing the gap between them.

Concern began to surge through Harry as he rounded a corner, not confident that game of cat and mouse would end in his favor, only to freeze in place. He was in a hallway lined with suits of armor on either side. An idea flickered in his mind, bringing a determined smile to his face. Making his way to the end of the hallway, he quickly pointed his wand at the first suit of armor, then the next, repeating the incantation with precision.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” he muttered, concentrating hard on each piece of armor. To his satisfaction, all twelve suits lifted off the ground, floating up toward the ceiling. While individually the spell was only slightly more taxing for each suit of armor than the feather, unfortunately maintaining the spell for multiple objects was far more exhausting than he had anticipated, and beads of sweat began forming on his forehead. But he held out, trying to slow his breathing, confident he only needed to hold the spell for a few more seconds.

The troll, rounding the corner with a snarl, was momentarily puzzled by the sight of Harry standing in the middle of the hallway. It hesitated, its small brain struggling to make sense of the situation. But the confusion didn’t last long. The troll roared in anger and resumed its charge, club raised high, completely oblivious to the suits of armor hovering above.

Harry’s heart pounded as he waited for the right moment. Just as the troll passed under the first suit of armor, he released his hold on it. The armor plummeted to the ground, landing squarely on the troll’s head with a metallic crash. The troll bellowed in pain, stumbling forward as it swung its club wildly, trying to locate its attacker.

Though the armor wasn’t heavy enough to cause serious damage, the troll’s confusion and pain worked in Harry’s favor. He watched as the troll, momentarily disoriented, staggered forward. As the troll moved under the next suit of floating armor, Harry released it as well, sending another set of metal pieces crashing down onto the creature’s head.

The troll roared again, each blow from the falling armor driving it into a frenzy. Unfortunately, by the time the fifth suit of armor struck it on the head, the troll had caught on to what was happening. It raised its club defensively, prepared to swat the remaining suits of armor out of the air before they could reach it.

Seeing that the troll was aware of what was happening and the trick wouldn’t continue to work, he took off down the hallway, not wasting a moment, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as he heard the troll roar in frustration. The sound of clattering metal followed him as the suits of armor fell along the hallway. His smile only growing when he heard the troll stepping on the scattered pieces of armor, bellowing in pain as sharp edges dug into its feet.

He rounded another corner, his lungs burning from the effort, but he didn’t slow down. The troll was still behind him, albeit delayed by the armor, and Harry knew he had to put as much distance between them as possible. The hallway stretched out before him, and he could see the entrance to the main staircase up ahead—a possible escape route.

But before he could reach it, a wave of fatigue washed over him. The repeated spellcasting and the sheer terror of the situation had drained him more than he realized. His pace slowed, his legs feeling like lead. He could hear the troll’s heavy footsteps gaining on him again, its roars of anger echoing through the corridor.

Desperation fueled Harry’s movements as he forced himself to keep going. He couldn’t let the troll catch him, not after everything he had been through. The staircase was just a few meters away now, and he pushed himself harder, every muscle in his body screaming in protest.

Just as he reached the foot of the stairs, he risked one last glance over his shoulder. The troll was closing in fast, its eyes locked onto him with a fierce determination. Harry’s heart skipped a beat, but he refused to let fear paralyze him. Instead, he turned and bolted up the stairs, forcing himself to take them two at a time.

The troll, not deterred by the stairs, lumbered after him, its massive feet crashing against the stone steps. But the staircase was steep and winding, slowing the troll’s progress. Harry kept climbing, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he ascended higher and higher.

He reached the top of the staircase and burst into a corridor, his mind racing as he tried to figure out where to go next. The castle was a maze of passageways and rooms, and Harry knew he couldn’t keep running indefinitely. He needed a plan.

Without slowing down, he made a split-second decision and darted around a corner only to come to am immediate halt, in his haste he had come to an area of the castle he hadn’t explored yet and his heart sank when he realized he had run into a dead end. Panic surged through him, and he spun around, hoping to retrace his steps and find another way out. But as he cautiously peered around the corner, he saw the troll had made its way onto the floor he was on and was lumbering through the corridor, moving slowly and methodically, its eyes scanning for any sign of him.

Harry quickly ducked back, pressing his back against the cold stone wall as he released a shaky breath. Relief washed over him—at least the troll hadn’t seen him. But he knew it wouldn’t take long for the creature to reach the end of the hallway and discover that there was nowhere else for him to go.

He needed to hide, to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. His eyes darted around the corridor, and he spotted a darkened alcove, its shadows deep and concealing. Moving as quietly as he could, Harry backed away from the corner and slipped into the alcove, trying to calm his racing heart and slow his breathing.

For a few tense moments, all was silent except for the pounding of his heart in his ears. Then he heard it—the heavy, lumbering footsteps of the troll approaching the hallway he had just turned down. The creature’s low growls echoed off the stone walls as it searched for its prey. Harry remained perfectly still, his hand gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The troll’s footsteps grew louder, closer. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to be invisible, to disappear into the shadows. The creature was just outside the corridor now, its breath heavy and labored. Harry could feel the vibrations through the floor as the troll moved around, sniffing the air, searching for any sign of him.

Then, to Harry’s horror, the troll turned the corner and was right in front of him. For several agonizing seconds, Harry didn’t breathe, his heart nearly stopping as the troll’s beady eyes scanned the hallway. The shadows were thick, and for a moment, the troll’s gaze skipped over Harry as if he were just another part of the darkness.

But then the troll paused, its nostrils flaring as if it caught an unfamiliar scent. It slowly turned its head back, eyes narrowing as they fixed directly on where Harry was hiding. Harry’s blood ran cold as the troll began to move toward him, each step deliberate, almost as if it were toying with him.

There was nowhere to go, and Harry couldn’t think of a single spell that would harm the creature. His mind raced, trying to come up with something—anything—to save himself. Slowly, he edged along the wall, trying to put as much space between them as possible, but the troll kept advancing, its club dragging ominously behind it.

The troll raised the club over its head, its small, piggish eyes gleaming with anticipation. Harry’s mind screamed at him to move, to do something. He prepared himself to try and leap between the troll’s legs again, though he wasn’t sure if the same trick would work twice, or if he even had the energy left to be quick enough to make it through, much less put distance between them again if he did.

Time seemed to slow as the troll brought the club down in a crushing arc. Harry sprang forward, but as he did, his foot caught on a small piece of debris that had fallen off the troll earlier when he had raised the club, causing him to stumble. He hit the ground hard, dazed, and looked up in terror as the troll’s massive hand came down—but the club didn’t.

Harry blinked in confusion, his breath catching in his throat. The club was still floating in the air above the troll’s head, suspended as if by some invisible force. The troll, too, seemed perplexed, staring at its empty hand before looking up at the floating club with a bewildered expression.

Then, as if the strings holding it up had been suddenly cut, the club dropped, crashing down with a sickening thud directly onto the troll’s skull. The impact on the troll’s head was far more severe than the suits of armor, the weight and force of the blow causing the troll to stagger backward, its eyes glazing over as it let out a low, groaning moan. It swayed on its feet, as if drunk, before it began to topple forward, its massive body casting a long shadow over Harry.

Summoning all the energy he had left, Harry scrambled backward along the wall, narrowly avoiding the falling troll. He felt the rush of air as the troll’s body slammed into the ground, the impact sending a tremor through the stone floor. Dust and debris puffed up around it, and for a moment, everything was still.

Harry lay there, gasping for breath, his body trembling from the adrenaline and exhaustion. He could hardly believe what had just happened. The troll lay motionless, its great bulk sprawled across the corridor, effectively blocking the way it had come.

After a few moments, Harry pushed himself up on shaky arms, his mind still reeling.

As he got to his feet, still trying to catch his breath and wondering how the club had stayed suspended in mid-air, he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Someone was stepping out from around the fallen troll, their wand still pointed at the creature. His eyes widened in surprise as the figure emerged from the shadows.

"Greengrass?" Harry asked, his voice filled with astonishment. "You did that?"

Daphne Greengrass nodded, giving him a small, somewhat hesitant smile. "I couldn't let the troll kill the person who saved me earlier," she said softly, lowering her wand.

It suddenly clicked for Harry. It had been Daphne's scream that had drawn him to the troll in the first place. His attempt to distract the creature had allowed her to escape, but instead of fleeing to the safety of her common room, she had either followed them or had the misfortune of having hidden nearby. Whatever the case, he was filled him with an extreme sense of gratitude at the thought that she had been the one to cast the levitation charm on the club, something he had considered but never had the chance to do, thereby likely saving his life.

Before he could voice any of these thoughts, they were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. Harry and Daphne turned to see several professors, led by Dumbledore, rounding the corner and coming to an abrupt halt as they took in the scene before them. Their eyes were wide with shock, and for a moment, no one spoke.

Professor McGonagall was the first to find her voice. "What on earth are you two doing?" she demanded, her tone sharp and full of concern. Daphne looked away, her expression tense, but Harry stepped forward, determined to explain.

"I was following the Ravenclaws to the dorm, once we left the Great Hall, when I heard a scream," Harry began, his voice steady despite the lingering adrenaline. "I went to see who it was and try to help. That's when I came across the troll, that had apparently cornered Greengrass. I distracted it, which allowed her to run away."

He gave a brief overview of the events that followed, describing his attempts to outmaneuver the troll, the trap he set with the suits of armor, and the final confrontation in the dead-end corridor. As he recounted how Daphne had saved him by using Wingardium Leviosa on the troll's club, the professors listened in stunned silence.

When he finished, the hallway was quiet for several long seconds. The professors exchanged glances, their shock evident. McGonagall was the first to break the silence.

"That was … incredibly foolish, Mr. Potter," she said, her stern voice tinged with something that almost sounded like reluctant admiration. "Trolls are dangerous creatures, and many grown witches and wizards have been killed by them, even when prepared. However, while I wonder whether you are minimizing the story it sounds like it was more than sheer dumb luck."

She shook her head again, clearly trying to process everything. "While I strongly recommend you never try anything like this again," she added, "your courage and quick thinking in coming to the aid of another student in danger cannot be ignored. Fifty points to Ravenclaw."

Harry felt a swell of pride at her words, though he kept his expression modest. McGonagall turned to Professor Flitwick. "Filius, please escort Mr. Potter to the Ravenclaw common room. Make sure he doesn't get lost—or try to take on some other creature on the way."

"Of course, Minerva," Flitwick said, his usual cheerful demeanor barely contained as he looked at Harry with a mixture of pride.

As Harry turned to leave, McGonagall addressed Daphne. "Miss Greengrass, please stay for a moment, I would like to ask you why you happened to be in the hallway."

Harry cast a glance back at Daphne as he walked away, giving her a small nod of thanks for saving his life. As he passed McGonagall, he heard her muttering to herself, "This is something his father would have done … He would have made a pretty good Gryffindor."

Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. Despite everything, it felt like a victory. He had faced a troll and lived to tell the tale.

As Professor Flitwick led Harry through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, his mind was still buzzing from the encounter with the troll, his body exhausted but his thoughts racing. He replayed the events in his head, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

When they finally reached the staircase, Flitwick paused, looking up at Harry with a thoughtful expression. “You’ve been through quite the ordeal tonight, Mr. Potter,” he said, his voice soft but filled with a hint of admiration. “Would you care to tell me the whole story?”

Harry nodded and recounted the events once more, from hearing Daphne Greengrass's scream to distracting the troll, to his attempts at fighting it, and finally, the showdown in the dead-end corridor. He downplayed his fear, focusing instead on what had driven him to act—his determination to help someone in need.

As Harry finished, Flitwick nodded appreciatively. “Your father would have been proud of you, Harry. And while your mother certainly would have been proud of the outcome and your bravery, I daresay she would have been incredibly upset you had done something like that.”

Harry felt a pang of sadness at the mention of his parents, before he nodded quietly, unsure of how to respond to that statement.

Flitwick, noticing the shift in Harry’s mood, smiled warmly and patted him on the shoulder. “But the results speak for themselves. That was impressive, Harry. Perhaps when you are older and have learned more spells, should you ever want to refine your fighting skills, come find me. I’m a renowned dueler, you know.”

Harry towards the diminutive professor in surprise. “You are?”

Flitwick nodded enthusiastically, but his expression quickly turned serious. “However, let me caution you, Harry. Usually, taking a moment to think through your course of action beforehand is a much better strategy than rushing right into a fight.”

Harry frowned slightly, trying to understand. “Are you saying I should have left or waited until Greengrass got hurt, or worse, before I acted?”

Flitwick shook his head, his tone gentle but firm. “Of course not, Mr. Potter. But trading one life for another is almost never a victory. If the troll had been able to kill you, what would it have mattered that you saved her life? Sometimes, taking just half a second to make a plan can make all the difference and it could have prevented the danger you found yourself in after you acted.”

He raised his hand to stop Harry from responding. “Now, obviously, in this case, you were limited by the urgency of the situation and your magical knowledge; and in the end things certainly worked out for the best. But I ask you to make an effort to think through the situation before acting rashly in the future. You are a Ravenclaw, after all.”

Harry paused before nodding slowly, absorbing the lesson. Flitwick’s words made sense, and he realized that what he had done could have led to a much worse outcome. But before he could dwell too much on it, Flitwick’s expression brightened again.

“Now,” Flitwick said, his eyes twinkling, “would you mind telling me the story once more before we reach the common room? Despite the opportunity to learn from your actions, it’s still an amazing tale, and I imagine you’ll be the talk of the school tomorrow.”

Harry groaned inwardly at that thought but couldn’t help but smile at the professor’s excitement. He began retelling the story, and Flitwick listened intently, nodding along with Harry’s words, clearly enjoying every detail. By the time they reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, Harry was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

As they entered, Harry noticed that the several students that had been gathered around, chatting quietly, immediately got to their feet and come over to them asking where he had been and what had happened. Flitwick looked as though he was about to recount the tale himself, but Harry quickly stepped forward, cutting him off.

“I got separated from the group on the way to the common room,” Harry said, trying to keep his tone casual. “Professor Flitwick guided me back up here once the troll had been taken care of.”

Flitwick raised an eyebrow at Harry, clearly surprised by what Harry was doing but thankfully chose not to press the issue. With a small shrug, he bid the students goodnight and left the common room.

As soon as Flitwick was out of earshot and the students had returned to their seats, Hermione, who had been waiting for Harry, pulled him aside. She eyed him suspiciously, clearly sensing that something was off.

“Harry,” she began, her voice low, “what really happened?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before sighing and giving her a slightly more detailed version of the story than the one he had shared once he had entered the common room, though he tried to minimize the danger he’d been in. When he finished, Hermione stared at him in shock.

“Harry James Potter!” she exclaimed, smacking him lightly on the head. “What were you thinking?”

Harry rubbed his head, wincing slightly. “What was that for?”

Hermione crossed her arms, repeating what Flitwick had said about thinking through a plan before acting. “The least you could have done was to call out to me when you went off to investigate the scream! We’re friends, Harry. Friends support each other and are there for each other.”

Harry paused, her words sinking in. He nodded slowly. “You’re right, Hermione. Next time I find myself in an incredibly dangerous life-or-death situation, I’ll make sure you’re there with me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You better.”

Kind Regards,

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Story Note 1 – Had wanted to rewrite the troll encounter and I think for the most part I’m really happy with it. I think that in general what happened was decently realistic although I still would have bet money on the troll winning. That being said I think Harry surviving in this situation would be higher than the Golden Trio surviving in an enclosed space throwing nothing but rubble at the troll.

Story Note 2 – Daphne saved him from the troll! Well that will certainly change things a bit. Hope this chapter was enjoyed!

A large thanks to those of you out there who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you all are enjoying them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or have reached out to me directly.

Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own Harry Potter. Who knew.