The Monster That Feared
Halloween at Hogwarts was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced before. The Great Hall had been transformed with floating jack-o’-lanterns, long tables overflowing with sweets, and a warm, golden glow that made everything feel like something out of a dream.
But the dream shattered when Professor Quirrell burst into the hall, his voice high and trembling—
"Troll! In the dungeons!"
Panic erupted instantly.
In the chaos, Harry suddenly remembered something.
The girl.
Hermione.
He had barely spoken to her, but he had overheard Ron and the others saying she was crying in the girls’ bathroom. She wasn’t in the Great Hall. She didn’t know about the troll.
Before he fully realized what he was doing, his feet were already moving.
---
The dimly lit corridor leading to the girls' bathroom was eerily silent. The torches flickered, casting long shadows against the stone walls.
Then—
A heavy thud echoed ahead. A low, guttural growl followed.
Harry slowed his steps.
He reached the entrance to the bathroom and peered inside.
And there it was.
The troll was massive, its thick gray skin rippling with muscle. It held a club the size of a tree trunk, swinging it lazily as if deciding what to smash next. Hermione was pressed against the sinks, frozen in horror.
But then—
The troll stopped.
Not just in the way a predator hesitates before striking.
It froze.
Its beady black eyes were locked on Harry, its nostrils flaring as if scenting the air.
Then, to Harry’s utter shock—
It let out a deep, almost fearful grunt.
And took a step back.
Harry blinked.
It’s… afraid?
That didn’t make sense. Trolls were dumb, aggressive creatures. They feared nothing.
But then—
Harry felt it.
A weight. A presence.
The same cold, suffocating darkness that had been with him in the church.
The troll’s nostrils flared again, and its tiny eyes flickered down—
To Harry’s pocket.
To the rosary beads.
The very air seemed to shift. The torches on the walls flickered violently, shadows stretching unnaturally.
And suddenly, Harry understood.
It wasn’t afraid of him.
It was afraid of something else.
Something near him.
Or rather—
Something that never left him.
The troll whimpered. A deep, rumbling sound that sent a shudder through the room.
Then, as if making a decision—
It turned. And ran.
The massive creature barreled through the bathroom doorway, nearly shaking the entire corridor as it fled, its heavy footfalls echoing down the halls.
Harry stood frozen, his breath shallow.
“…What?” Hermione whispered.
She was staring at him, wide-eyed, still pressed against the sinks.
Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it.
Because how was he supposed to explain that?
That a troll—a creature that shouldn’t fear anything—had been terrified the moment it sensed the same thing the Sorting Hat had?
Harry’s fingers curled around the beads in his pocket.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
And whatever it was…
It was always with him.