Bursting through the door, Edward's first thought was the Confundus Charm.
For a pure wizard or a magical knight, the Confundus Charm was fundamental. Merlin's handbook stressed that when a knight charged into battle, the priority before striking was securing their own survival. The charm could effectively mislead an enemy's judgment, boosting survival odds in a duel or a large-scale charge.
Trolls were thick-skinned and resistant to most magic, but the Confundus Charm targeted their weakest point: their brain. Edward needed to keep Hermione alive first—otherwise, even if he stunned the troll, its collapse could crush her into "Hermione paste."
Alongside the charm, Edward activated his Blessing of Glory the moment he rushed in. The troll was highly dangerous, and while the blessing's intimidation effect might not work alone, even a moment's hesitation from the beast could make a difference.
The charm worked instantly. The troll's club, aimed at the sink, inexplicably smashed into the wall's tiles instead. It stared at its club, scratching its tiny head in confusion, unable to fathom why it missed or why it felt a fleeting pang of fear.
"Help! Save me!" Hermione screamed, clinging to her lifeline.
"I'll distract it—run for the door!" Edward shouted, darting toward the troll's feet.
His sharp blade only left a faint red scratch on the troll's calloused ankle, but it was enough to draw its attention.
"ROAR!" The troll bellowed, stomping the ground and lowering its head to find the pest disturbing it. Peering between its legs, it spotted Edward.
The troll's dim brain locked onto its target, raising its club high. But Edward stood still, staring it down, making the troll confident this swing wouldn't miss.
With a BANG, the club slammed into the floor, denting it and sending dust, wood chips, and tile fragments flying. But when the troll looked, there was no blood or brains on its club.
Edward had vanished.
The troll lifted its club, its small eyes darting around in confusion. It couldn't focus, distracted by an itch on its shoulder.
Edward had already leaped onto the club, flipping onto the troll's shoulder. It was a tactic he'd planned: the troll's head was its weak spot. From the shoulder, he had countless ways to attack.
He could easily decapitate the troll with his sword, but that would rain blood across the bathroom and ruin his robes. Effective, but unnecessary.
Instead, he chose a safer approach. His sword morphed into an iron hammer, and he aimed his wand at the troll's head.
This was Merlin's technique: the Magical-Physical Stunning Spell.
"*Stupefy!*"
A red flash shot from his wand as the hammer smashed down. The troll didn't even register what hit it before its vision went black. It swayed, then crashed backward with a BOOM that shook the room—and likely the entire castle.
Edward wasn't convinced the magical and physical stun was enough. Eyeing the club beside the troll, he considered one more blow to be sure.
Compassion for the weak, caution for the enemy.
"Hermione!" " contenders!"
With hurried footsteps and door slams, four young wizards burst into the bathroom, wands raised, calling for their friends. They froze at the unforgettable sight.
The bathroom was a wreck: dust and a nauseating stench filled the air, debris littered the floor, and every toilet was spraying water. In the center, a massive, reeking troll lay unconscious, a huge lump on its head. Beside it stood a handsome, brown-haired figure, solemnly raising the troll's oversized club, ready to deliver another blow.
Harry, Ron, Daphne, and Draco were stunned. From the moment Edward charged in, barely half a minute had passed. They'd been hesitating, worrying if they could face the monster or if Edward and Hermione were hurt.
But the scene before them erased all those thoughts.
"Is… is it dead?" Hermione asked shakily, crawling out from under the sink.
"I'd say it's about as good as dead," Daphne muttered, eyeing the lump on the troll's head and the massive club in Edward's hands.
Edward, surprised to see the four, lowered the club. "You guys came to…?"
"Save Hermione and help you," Ron said with a shrug. "But it looks like we're a bit redundant now."
"I knew this guy was as tough as a troll. I regret coming with you, Daphne," Malfoy said, covering his nose and stepping back.
Edward's face broke into a slight smile. They're good people at heart.
"Thanks, everyone," he said, then crouched down, pulling a bottle from his waist pouch. Using his wand, he extracted some troll nasal mucus and grabbed a box to collect two troll toenails.
His heightened senses, courtesy of his blessings, made the stench overwhelming. Only sheer willpower kept him from passing out.
The five young wizards gagged in unison, grimacing. No matter how heroic or handsome someone was, digging through troll snot didn't exactly scream "normal."
Suddenly, a loud crash and rapid footsteps echoed. Professor McGonagall burst in, followed by Snape and Quirrell. The kids realized just how much noise Edward's stunt had caused. The troll's roars and the crash had drawn the staff from nearby classrooms.
Panting, McGonagall clutched her chest, staring at the fallen troll. But what shocked her more was the sight of six students in the room.
"Six of you!" she exclaimed, pointing at the four standing nearby. "Explain why you didn't follow your prefects back to the dorms!"
Snape said nothing, inspecting the lump on the troll's head while shooting a sharp glare at his three Slytherins.
Harry, Ron, Daphne, and Draco exchanged looks, as if hit with a Forgetfulness Charm, speechless. McGonagall's tone suggested they were each facing at least fifty points docked—plus detention.
Hermione, still wiping tears in the corner, opened her mouth to speak, but another voice cut through the room first.
"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, this is all my fault."