Chapter 210: Moving Forward

Fourth-floor corridor.

A blurred figure was moving rapidly, almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

Upon hearing Parvati Patil's words, Wizard Sean roughly understood that the plot had not changed.

Just as he had exited the Great Hall, he heard the clamor within and caught sight of Professor Quirrell.

This confirmed to him that, at the very least, Tang Mu would find it difficult to go on a killing spree, unless he wished to be beaten by Dumbledore into a Tang Mu Number Two.

Next, he only needed to ensure Hermione's safety.

That would not be difficult.

Unless Tang Mu's brain had grown onto the troll, even if defeating the troll was not guaranteed, Wizard Sean was certainly capable of escaping with Hermione; after all, this time Potter had not locked the door.

But what Wizard Sean did not expect was that more than one person had followed him.

At the entrance to the fourth-floor lavatory.

A foul stench drilled into Wizard Sean's nostrils, a smell mixing dirty socks with an uncleaned public toilet.

Then he heard it—a low grumbling sound and the drag of massive feet shuffling across the floor.

At the end of a passage to the left, a colossal creature was moving toward him.

Wizard Sean concealed his form; he intended to locate Hermione first.

Unexpectedly, at that very moment, the huge monster slowly stepped into a patch of moonlight.

The sight was terrifying. It stood twelve feet tall, its skin dull and gray like granite, its massive, clumsy body resembling a heap of giant mud-gravel, topped with a head the size of a cocoa bean.

Its short legs were as thick as tree stumps, ending in flat, calloused, coarse feet. The odor emanating from it was sickeningly foul. In its hand, it gripped a thick wooden club, which dragged along the ground due to its long arms.

The troll halted beside a door and peered inside.

Worse still, at that exact moment, the door swayed slightly, suggesting someone inside was about to open it.

But the sound of the opening door ceased quickly, because the troll, the foul-smelling troll, had squeezed itself into the room.

Wizard Sean's speed nearly matched the troll's; aided by the Disillusionment Charm and the Silencing Charm, he effortlessly followed the beast into the lavatory.

The lavatory was bare, seemingly empty.

Yet inside a stall, Hermione clamped her hands tightly over her mouth.

"A troll! It's a troll! A monster with a danger level of xxxx; young wizards stand no chance of fighting back against it! They would be too terrified to even cast a spell!"

This voice rampaged through Hermione's mind, and more terrifyingly, having cried for so long, she had no strength left.

Moreover, shaken as she was, she likely could not even muster a simple Levitation Charm.

Hermione huddled in the stall, seeming on the verge of fainting at any moment.

Outside the stall.

Wizard Sean heard faint, suppressed breathing; through the half-open stall door, he saw Hermione's pallid face.

Her eyes were dim, her lips trembling; she tried to stand but lacked the strength.

Wizard Sean's gaze trembled; he sighed, casting aside all hesitation, and gently entered the stall as the Disillusionment Charm peeled off him like a receding tide.

His calm expression flickered slightly; the troll had appeared early, making it meaningless to wait for Potter and the others.

In the corridor.

Amidst the crowd of young wizards fleeing rapidly toward their dormitories, Neville and Jia Jia Siting, rushing upstream against the flow, appeared exceedingly strange.

A troll, twelve feet tall, weighing over a ton, with thick skin, immune to most magical attacks...

These were the words Professor Quirrell had repeated with a stuttering voice in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, even calling upon several young wizards to answer questions.

The terror a troll inspired in young wizards was no less than that of a dragon.

Thus, most young wizards rushing to their dormitories wore pallid faces, wishing they could grow extra legs to run faster.

"Do you think we'll die if the troll discovers us?"

A young wizard asked his companion, trembling.

"What else do you expect? Do you think you're Wizard Sean? Dueling a troll, defeating a werewolf with bare hands, or even snatching a dragon egg right in front of a dragon..."

That young wizard made a joke with a pale face, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere.

Jia Jia Siting and Neville were already struggling to breathe.

Especially Jia Jia Siting; having just come from the warm kitchens, he had not even had time to don a robe and was now shivering slightly.

"Actually... Wizard Sean isn't..."

Neville tried to say something, but his words only made the atmosphere more oppressive.

After realizing that Wizard Sean and Hermione could not possibly confront the troll, they ran even faster.

A flash of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a roaring thunderclap.

The wind, the rain, and the pounding of his heart transformed in Jia Jia Siting's mind into a gentle female voice:

"You are about to enter the adult world of fierce struggle, my child; you must become impregnable. I know justice is a rugged path; if you truly reach a point where you must choose life, my child, Jia Jia Siting, remember: what you need is not a wand, but courage."

"I know justice is a rugged path; if you ever truly reach the moment where you must choose between lives, my child, Jia Jia Siting, remember: what you need is not a wand, but courage."

Jia Jia Siting realized it was when obeying the greatest voice of his life—the call of his mother.

Jia Jia Siting realized this was the moment he heeded the greatest voice of his life—his mother's call.

A yellowed envelope still rested in the expensive trunk, a trunk selected by Lady Fenley, into which she had poured great effort to pack her longing.

At this moment, the yellowed envelope swayed slightly in the wind, Lady Fenley's handwriting clearly visible:

At this moment, the yellowed envelope still swayed gently in the wind, Lady Fenlie's handwriting clearly visible:

In the meaning of life, we are all miracles. Just as the future is not necessarily more important than the present, how can a shattered future face the brave present? Yet I love you, my child, I love you, and that is all.

—Liliana, who has never been disappointed in you]

—Yours, who has never been disappointed in you: Liliana]

The Great Hall.

Snape watched the clamoring young wizards, his sinister gaze sweeping constantly around the room.

Not there, not there, still not there...

With everyone's attention diverted, Snape easily noticed that Quirrell had vanished.

His gaze grew darker than ever, especially after exchanging a glance with an equally panicked Professor McGonagall.

He wasn't there... he was gone...

Snape's mind was in chaos; looking at Dumbledore, who was staring in a certain direction, his fury erupted violently:

"What are you waiting for, Albus! We must find him! Damn it! Go find him!"

"Severus, are you speaking of Harry? He just went out; oh, he will be fine..."

Dumbledore's words stunned Snape, who then fixed a cold stare on Dumbledore.

Yes, in the eyes of this century's greatest white wizard, who could possibly compare to Harry Potter?

It was precisely because he knew this, knowing Harry was surely under Dumbledore's control, that he had not immediately noticed Harry's departure.

But what of the others? The other wizards?

Hah... were they all expendable... pawns to be sacrificed?

What awaited at the top of the castle stairs?

Quirrell, or the Dark Lord?

The returned Dark Lord, a plan to prove the Chosen One's potential, pieces moving in the shadows...

He had long since nothing left to offer this filthy world and was willing to spin his cocoon at the mouth of the dilapidated Spider Alley.

Yet there must be something far above everything else.

Snape, with a cold face, strode out of the Great Hall.

Snape left the Great Hall with a cold expression.