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Thursday, October 31st, 1991 - Evening
6:47 PM - Great Hall
The enchanted pumpkins completed their aerial ballet with a flourish, descending back to the tables amid thunderous applause. Professor Flitwick beamed with pride, practically glowing with satisfaction at his successful presentation.
"Magnificent!" Dumbledore declared, clapping enthusiastically. "Simply magnificent, Filius! Now, I believe it's time for—"
The doors to the Great Hall burst open with a bang that cut through the celebration like a knife.
Professor Quirrell stumbled in, turban askew, robes disheveled, face pale with what appeared to be absolute terror. He swayed on his feet, gasping for breath, pointing back toward the entrance hall with a trembling hand.
Every conversation died instantly. A thousand students turned to stare.
"TROLL!" Quirrell shrieked, his voice cracking with panic. "In the dungeons! Thought you ought to know!"
He took two more staggering steps forward, then collapsed in a dramatic faint, hitting the stone floor with a theatrical thud.
For one heartbeat, silence.
Then chaos erupted.
Students screamed. Chairs scraped as people jumped to their feet. The younger years began crying. Prefects shouted for order that nobody could hear over the panic.
"SILENCE!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the bedlam like a thunderclap, magically amplified to impossible volume.
The hall quieted instantly, though fear remained thick in the air.
"Prefects," Dumbledore commanded, his voice now normal but carrying absolute authority, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."
[CRITICAL ALERT: Troll deployment confirmed. Timeline proceeding as predicted. Subject Granger location: Unknown, not present in Great Hall. Canonical bathroom scenario likely in progress.]
The prefects sprang into action, organizing their houses with varying degrees of success. The Ravenclaw prefects—fifth-years whose names Darius had never bothered learning—began herding their house toward the doors.
"Everyone stay together!" one shouted. "First-years in the middle! No running!"
But the Great Hall had descended into chaos. Four houses trying to exit together, students pushing, younger years crying, prefects struggling to maintain order.
Darius let himself be swept along with the Ravenclaw crowd, but his mind was racing.
[Surveillance network status check:]
[CAM-QUIRRELL-OFFICE: Empty]
[CAM-QUIRRELL-QUARTERS: Empty]
[CAM-THIRD-FLOOR: Filch detected entering corridor 47 seconds ago, investigating something near Fluffy's chamber]
[CAM-TEST-01: Library empty, evacuated]
"Move along!" A prefect was pushing the Ravenclaw group toward the doors. "Everyone to the common room! Now!"
Darius moved with the crowd, but his senses were on high alert.
[Partner's concern noted. Query: What specific discrepancy has Partner detected?]
The timing. If Hermione went to cry right after Ron's comment at lunch, she's been in that bathroom for hours. But which bathroom? And where are Harry and Ron?
[Insufficient data. Canonical text specified "girls' bathroom" location inconsistently. Multiple possibilities exist throughout castle.]
The Ravenclaw group filed into the corridor, joining the general exodus. Hufflepuffs heading toward their common room near the kitchens, Slytherins descending toward the dungeons—
Darius spotted movement through the chaos. Two figures breaking away from the Gryffindor group, ducking into different corridors while Percy Weasley's back was turned.
Harry Potter going left. Ron Weasley going right.
They split up?
[Subjects Potter and Weasley deviating from prefect instructions. Divergent paths confirmed. Insufficient data to determine motive or objective.]
That's not canon. In the original timeline they went together—
[Timeline already compromised. Partner's surveillance and prior interventions may have created butterfly effects. Subjects now pursuing independent objectives.]
Damn it. Which one do I follow?
"Darius!" Emma grabbed his arm. "Come on, we need to stay with the group!"
"Right, sorry." He let her pull him along, but his mind was calculating trajectories, probabilities, threat assessments.
Harry went toward the third floor. Ron went toward the second floor where the bathrooms are.
[Both scenarios represent significant mortality risk. Partner must choose intervention priority.]
Then it's decided. Harry first.
[Acknowledged. Recommend immediate extraction from current group and pursuit of Subject Potter.]
Before anyone could turn this into some grand story—let's get one thing straight.
No, he wasn't ignoring Ron.
This wasn't about favoritism. It wasn't about being indulgent toward Harry or following the "hero." It was much simpler than that. It was about probability. It was a cold threat assessment. Out of everyone, there was only one name that consistently drew the Dark Lord's obsession.
The world moves based on motion and consequence. Right now, Harry was the one who had moved first.
Harry Potter was the higher-risk path. He was the variable the Dark Lord would target above all others, and right now, Harry was taking a massive gamble.
So, Darius followed.
He didn't do it because it was "right" or "fair." He did it because if things were going to go south, they were going to go south right there.
It wasn't bias. It was just the reality of the situation.
7:02 PM - Ravenclaw Tower
The common room filled with anxious students, prefects trying to maintain order while younger years clustered together for comfort. The usual Halloween excitement had transformed into a nightmare.
"Everyone stay calm!" the Head Boy announced. "The professors are handling the situation. We're perfectly safe here. The tower entrance is protected by—"
Darius wasn't listening. He'd positioned himself near the window, ostensibly looking out at the grounds but actually focused inward on his surveillance feeds and tracking Harry's likely trajectory.
[CAM-THIRD-FLOOR: Movement detected. Subject Potter entering corridor from eastern stairwell. Proceeding toward bathroom facilities in abandoned classroom section.]
There. He's going for the bathrooms. But why the boys bathroom?
"I need to use the bathroom," Darius announced suddenly.
Emma turned from where she'd been talking with Sarah. "What? Darius, we're supposed to stay—"
"I really need to go," he insisted, adding a slightly desperate edge to his voice. "Like, really need to. And I'd rather not wait until the professors give the all-clear."
The prefect who'd been standing nearby sighed. "Fine. There's a bathroom just down the corridor. Don't go wandering. Straight there and straight back."
"Promise."
Darius slipped out of the common room, past the bronze eagle knocker, into the corridor beyond.
The moment he was alone, he dropped the act and ran.
[Partner's plan?]
Find Harry. Make sure nothing happens to him. Then check on Ron and possibly Hermione.
[Time constraint noted. Splitting attention between two crisis points suboptimal but necessary given circumstances.]
Darius reached the third-floor corridor within minutes, moving through the castle like a shadow. The corridors were eerily empty, most students secured in common rooms, professors presumably in the dungeons hunting the troll that wasn't actually there.
He slowed his approach, extended his senses, listening.
Voices ahead. Young, male, one scared, one trying to be reassuring.
"—have to get back to the common room, Neville. It's not safe here."
"I c-can't go back there, Harry. Everyone saw me fall. Everyone laughed. Trevor ran away again and I knocked over that whole suit of armor and Filch was screaming and—"
"Nobody cares about that right now. There's a troll—"
Darius paused, his brow furrowing as the realization hit him. Neville?
According to the "story" as it was supposed to go, Neville Longbottom should have been in the hospital wing or tucked away in Gryffindor Tower.
The conversation cut off.
A sound echoed through the corridor. Heavy. Rhythmic. Growing louder.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
[ALERT: Large mass detected approaching. Acoustic signature consistent with mountain troll. Distance: Approximately 40 meters and closing. Direction: Eastern corridor, converging on Subjects Potter and Longbottom's location.]
The troll.
Darius pulled the flashbang and confusion grenade from his pockets, feeling the trigger stone's weight in his palm. Around the corner ahead, he heard Harry's voice rise in alarm.
"Run! Neville, RUN!"
Footsteps. Running. Then the unmistakable sound of a massive club hitting stone.
CRASH!
The floor shook.
Darius rounded the corner just as the troll came into view. Twelve feet of gray-skinned nightmare, massive club raised, tiny eyes fixed on two boys scrambling away down the corridor.
Harry had his wand out but looked terrified. Neville was pale as death, frozen halfway between running and standing.
No time for subtlety.
[Holographic disguise activating. Visual overlay engaged. Battery consumption: 8% per hour.]
The air around him shimmered with a high-frequency hum as the light distorted. In a heartbeat, the small frame of a younger boy vanished. His height surged, his shoulders broadening as the skeletal structure of the projection locked into place. His robes bled from standard school black into a weathered, dark traveler's coat, heavy and utilitarian.
He was no longer a student. He looked fifteen, maybe sixteen—a stranger.
What the—you have HOLOGRAM technology?!
[Affirmative. Considered luxury feature, reserved for emergencies. Current situation qualifies. Recommend postponing complaints until after troll neutralized.]
We are definitely talking about this later!
[Acknowledged. However, immediate threat requires attention.]
Darius activated both devices and threw.
The flashbang struck the troll's back at shoulder height.
CRACK!
Light exploded through the corridor—brilliant, searing white that turned night into artificial day. The troll bellowed, a sound of rage and pain combined. Its hands flew to its face, the club dropping from nerveless fingers with an impact that cracked the floor stones.
The confusion grenade activated a heartbeat later, its runes generating the randomized patterns of light, sound, and phantom scents designed to overwhelm the troll's primitive senses.
The creature staggered, bellowing again. Its tiny eyes saw threats that weren't there. Sounds that mimicked predators echoed through its head. Scents that screamed danger filled its nostrils.
"Come on!" Darius shouted, pitching his voice lower to match the older, more rugged appearance he was currently wearing. "While it's distracted! Move!"
They didn't question it. Terror overrode curiosity. Both boys scrambled toward him, Harry half-dragging Neville, who looked like his legs might turn to jelly at any second.
As they reached the shadow of the doorway where Darius stood, Harry looked up, his green eyes wide behind his glasses, flickering with a mix of relief and intense confusion.
"Who are you, mister? How did you—"
"Save it," Darius snapped, cutting him off before he could ask his question.
The troll was recovering faster than expected, its rage overcoming the sensory confusion. It bellowed again and charged, not at the boys, but at the stranger who'd attacked it.
At Darius.
"GET TO SAFETY!" Darius ordered, then ran in the opposite direction, leading the troll away.
The creature followed, massive footsteps thundering, club scraping along the floor and leaving deep gouges in the ancient stone.
[Warning: Troll recovering from sensory overload. Estimated time to full function: 8 seconds. Recommend Partner increase distance immediately.]
Behind him, he heard Harry's voice: "Who was that?!"
"I don't know!" Neville gasped. "But he saved us!"
"We need to tell someone—Ron! Ron went to find Hermione! We have to warn him about the troll!"
[CRITICAL ALERT: Subjects Potter and Longbottom now mobile and concerned about Subject Weasley. Recommend Partner verify second crisis point status immediately after troll engagement concluded.]
The troll was right behind him now, close enough that Darius could smell its rancid breath. He ducked into a side corridor, the creature's club missing him by inches and demolishing a stone column instead.
Ahead, voices. Adult voices.
[Professor detection: Multiple signatures approaching. Distance: 30 meters. Recommend Partner disengage before faculty arrival.]
About time the adults showed up.
Darius triggered another small explosive spell at the troll's feet—not to hurt it, just to keep it distracted and angry—then dove into a narrow passage the creature couldn't follow.
The troll bellowed in frustration, turning back toward the main corridor just as Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick appeared.
"Good heavens!" McGonagall's voice rang out. "Get back! All of you, get—"
Darius didn't wait to see the professors handle it. He was already moving, holographic disguise still active, heading toward the stairs.
Toward the second floor.
Toward where Ron had gone to find Hermione.
[CAM status unavailable for second floor eastern wing. Partner proceeding on incomplete intelligence. Recommend caution.]
Don't have time for caution.
He took the stairs three at a time.
7:15 PM - Second Floor Corridor
The second floor was darker than it should be. Wall torches flickered dimly, and there was something in the air—a smell that made Darius's enhanced senses recoil.
Organic. Wrong. The scent of predators.
Then he heard it. A scream. Female, young, terrified.
Followed immediately by a male voice shouting: "HERMIONE!"
Ron.
Darius ran toward the sound, rounding the corner into the eastern wing corridor.
The girls' bathroom door stood open. Through it, he could see webs. Thick as rope, stretching from floor to ceiling in elaborate patterns. And among them, struggling against silk bonds—
Ron and Hermione, wrapped in spider webbing, suspended a foot off the ground near the sinks.
And surrounding them, advancing with coordinated precision: eight juvenile acromantulas, their multiple eyes gleaming, mandibles clicking in anticipation.
[CRITICAL: Subjects Weasley and Granger in immediate mortal danger. Acromantula pack behavior suggests coordinated feeding preparation. Estimated time before lethal bite: 30-45 seconds.]
Darius burst through the doorway, wand already moving.
"INCENDIO!"
Fire erupted from his wand tip, not a small flame but a roaring gout that caught the nearest spider mid-advance. The creature shrieked and fell, burning.
The other seven spiders turned toward this new threat, mandibles clicking in what might have been anger or communication or both.
Hermione's eyes went wide. "Who—"
"Stay still!" Darius ordered, positioning himself between the bound students and the arachnid horde. "Don't struggle against the webs!"
"Bit late for that advice!" Ron shouted, still trying to break free.
Three spiders lunged simultaneously.
"Confringo!" The nearest sink exploded, shrapnel catching one spider and driving the other two back.
"Incendio Duo!" Darius swept his wand in an arc, creating a wall of flame that bisected the bathroom.
The spiders retreated, their primitive brains screaming danger at the sight of fire. But they didn't flee. Not yet. Their prey was right there, helpless, so close—
One tried to jump through the flames. Bad decision. It landed on fire, thrashing wildly, its movements spreading the burning to nearby webs.
The silk caught instantly. Acromantula webbing was strong but not fireproof. Flames raced along the strands, consuming the elaborate architecture.
"The webs are burning!" Hermione's voice rose in panic. "We're going to—"
"Diffindo!" Darius's severing charm cut through the webbing holding them, deliberately leaving enough intact that they wouldn't fall hard. Both students dropped to the floor, still partially bound but no longer suspended.
"Get the webbing off and get out!" Darius commanded, not looking back. He was too busy dealing with the remaining spiders, which were now trying different attack vectors—walls, ceiling, coordinated flanking maneuvers.
"Bombarda!" An explosion caught two spiders trying to approach from above, sending them crashing down.
"Incendio! Incendio!" More flames, more burning webs, more spider shrieks.
Ron and Hermione were scrambling to free themselves, tearing at the sticky silk with increasing desperation as the fire spread and the bathroom filled with smoke.
[Warning: Current level: 82%. Structural integrity of bathroom compromised by fire and explosion damage. Recommend concluding engagement within 60 seconds.]
The last three spiders were retreating toward the window, finally recognizing a losing battle. Darius let them go, more concerned with keeping Ron and Hermione alive than achieving total spider elimination.
"Out! Now!" He grabbed Hermione's arm as she finally freed herself, Ron stumbling after them both.
They tumbled out into the corridor just as part of the bathroom ceiling collapsed, sending up a shower of sparks and burning debris.
All three fell to the floor, coughing, covered in soot and spider web residue, but alive.
Footsteps. Running toward them from both directions.
From the left: Harry and Neville, both gasping for breath, eyes wide at the smoke and destruction.
From the right: Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout, wands drawn.
"What in Merlin's name—" McGonagall stopped dead, taking in the scene. Four students, burning bathroom, smoke, the distant sounds of spider shrieks.
Harry and Neville skidded to a stop, staring at Ron and Hermione.
"You're alive!" Harry gasped. "We tried to warn you about the troll, but we ran into it ourselves, and then someone helped us and we came looking for you but—"
His words faltered. His eyes fixed on Darius.
"Wait—you were the one who helped Ron and Hermione?"
[WARNING: Multiple witnesses. Holographic disguise under increasing scrutiny. Professor McGonagall's wand movement suggests imminent detection spell. Recommend immediate extraction.]
"Is everyone alright?" Professor Sprout rushed forward, already casting diagnostic charms on Ron and Hermione.
"The bathroom," Hermione managed between coughs. "Giant spiders. They wrapped us in webs and were going to—" Her voice broke.
"You," McGonagall's sharp eyes fixed on Darius. "Who are you?"
[CRITICAL: Professor interrogation requires response. Multiple student witnesses complicate extraction. Hologram will not withstand detection spell. Battery at 73%. Partner must disengage immediately.]
"I heard screaming," Darius said, voice pitched to match his older appearance. "I couldn't just—"
"Your name," McGonagall interrupted, her tone brooking no argument. "And explain how you were involved in both the troll incident on the third floor and this—" she gestured at the destroyed bathroom, "—situation here."
Harry stepped forward. "Professor, he saved us! The troll was going to kill Neville and me, and he used some kind of magical devices to distract it and—"
"And then he was here saving Ron and Hermione from giant spiders!" Neville added, finding his voice despite still trembling.
McGonagall's expression shifted slightly. Not softening, but calculating. "Magical devices? What kind of—"
A distant crash echoed through the castle. From the floor above. The troll, still rampaging despite the professors' intervention.
McGonagall's attention snapped away for just a second.
Darius ran.
Then he did what he did best.
"STOP!" McGonagall's voice rang out behind him. "Young man, stop this instant!"
He didn't stop. He rounded the corner at full sprint, enhanced speed carrying him faster than any normal student could move, and dove into the first side passage.
Behind him, McGonagall's footsteps—but they faltered, stopped. She had to choose: pursue an unknown person or manage four traumatized children and a burning bathroom full of deadly spiders.
She chose the children. As Darius knew she would.