With the help of Mr. Filch, a volunteer, various potion data were collected by Solim and Snape, which then became the foundation for Snape to improve the formula. On Halloween, Snape gave Solim the third, improved activator.
Eager to test it immediately, Solim resolutely skipped both his herbal medicine and flying classes in the afternoon, right after the first transformation lesson.
By the way, Solim hadn't attended a flying lesson since the beginning of school—though, admittedly, there were no exams in flying anyway. Harry, however, had made his mark in flight class and was noticed by Professor McGonagall, who recommended him to Wood.
About two corridors away from the Slytherin common room lay a hidden room where Solim often practiced potions. Today, it served as a temporary laboratory to observe Filch's condition.
"Argus, the first two attempts worked well. This is the third time, and the effect will only get better." Solim held up the bottle Snape had given him that morning, uncorked it, and offered it to Filch. "Come on, you know what to do."
The mana accumulated in Filch's body felt like a boulder, completely blocking any magical pathways.
The first potion Snape had prepared resembled black powder; its effect was negligible. The second was more potent, like TNT—it worked, but after drinking it, Filch's pores began to ooze blood. If Snape hadn't been present, Solim wouldn't have known what to do.
Still, the second attempt marked a breakthrough: Filch could use a small portion of his magical power. This gave Snape and Solim another insight: overly strong potions could harm the body, so if the strong ones weren't safe enough, using weaker potions was preferable.
Solim was optimistic about this third attempt. In his view, even if the effect was slightly slower than the second potion, safety was the priority.
Filch, though bored, picked up the potion without protest. Despite the previous accident, he valued even a small amount of magical ability over his squib status. To him, any price was worth paying to become a wizard.
"You're not afraid this time?" Solim asked, making small talk after several experiments had made them comfortable with each other.
"You're not a squib—you won't understand my mood." Filch sat obediently, fully aware of the rules after multiple sessions.
Raising an eyebrow, Solim said nothing. Indeed, he was not a squib. But without squibs like Filch, he would never have understood the frustration Filch had endured. Solim remained noncommittal.
Silence fell. Solim jotted notes and diagrams in his notebook while Filch closed his eyes, concentrating on his body. It was routine now—everyone knew what to do.
By the time they were ready to leave, dinner in the Great Hall was nearly over. They hadn't eaten yet.
"Wait, Argus, do you smell that?" Solim grabbed Filch. "It… it smells like a troll."
He glanced at Filch, worried. "Is there any school activity planned for Halloween tonight?"
Immediately, Solim cursed himself. He'd been so busy preparing the potion that he'd forgotten about Halloween.
"Filch, something's happening. Go to the auditorium and alert a professor. They said there are mountain monsters in the castle, but the number is unknown."
With a wave of his hand, he added, "Don't worry about me—it's just a mountain monster. My concern is that younger students might stumble across it. Hurry." He then cast a Bubble Curse to mask the smell—it was truly foul.
Ignoring Filch, Solim rushed to the girls' bathroom. Sure enough, a small mountain monster, attracted by the cries inside, was bending to enter.
With a flick of his left hand, Solim pointed his wand at the giant creature. "Swarms of birds!"
A massive flock erupted from the wand, swarming the troll. Irritated, it retreated its foot into the bathroom. Annoyed by the birds, it swung its mallet randomly—but the attacks had no effect.
Hermione, inside the bathroom, had been crying at the commotion. Wiping her tears, she peeked outside, curious to see what was happening.
"Ah!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~" Her shrill scream startled both the troll and Solim.
"Oh my god… this could actually be used as a charm," Solim muttered under his breath.
"Hermione! Hurry in!" Seeing the troll drawn toward her, Solim moved quickly, guided by the flock of birds. Unfortunately, Hermione remained frozen, dumbfounded, and the troll advanced.
Realizing time was critical, Solim cast an Impediment Spell on her, sending her skidding slightly, before rushing to intercept the troll.
He wasn't sure how far Hermione had been pushed by the spell. He dared not think of the consequences.
Inside the bathroom, Solim's heart pounded. Hermione crouched in the corner, paralyzed with fear. He struck the troll's head with a Shock Spell, momentarily stunning it.
"Hermione, hide in the cubicle," he instructed. Finally, she obeyed.
Solim squared off against the troll. The creature had been dangerously close to Hermione, and he couldn't risk it falling on her. "Then you lie down," he muttered, pointing at its forehead.
The troll hesitated. Solim cast a Fiendfire Flicker spell, scorching the upper half of its face and a portion of its head. Within two seconds, the creature collapsed to the floor.
Once the troll was down, Hermione crawled under the cubicle partition, witnessing Solim's control over the situation. Though still in shock, she was safe.
Shaking his wand, Solim cast a cleansing spell, cleaning the grime Hermione had picked up on the floor.
As he helped her out, he asked, "Why were you here? Did you leave the Halloween feast early?"
Before she could respond, footsteps echoed outside the door. Solim recognized two of them—not professors.
Harry and Ronald appeared at the entrance, shocked at the chaotic scene: the bathroom was trashed, a troll lay unconscious, and Solim and Hermione stood upright.
More footsteps followed, heavier this time. Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Quirrell soon appeared. McGonagall's face was livid. Snape approached the troll, expressionless, while Quirrell slid to the floor, gripping the doorframe, twitching nervously.
"Small, pretending to be scared," Solim admired Quirrell's acting in his mind.
"You guys! What on earth are you doing? Do you even understand the danger?" McGonagall demanded.
"Professor, it's me. I learned about the troll from a book and thought I could handle it," Hermione began, bowing her head.
Solim interrupted before she could finish. Children often think their excuses can deceive adults, but adults can see through them instantly. "Hermione, a good lie should be well-crafted—not this nonsense. Tell the truth."
Snape's sharp voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Selwyn, did you kill this troll?"
Solim nodded. "I did. Controlling the monster would have been far riskier than ending it. Considering Miss Granger's position, I judged killing it to be safest."
Snape blinked, waiting for an explanation.
"It was a weakened Fiendfire Curse," Solim added, shrugging. "It's simplified, short-lived, and affects only a small area. It wouldn't cause serious property damage. Even with my level of power, releasing a full Fiendfire Curse at eleven is impossible. And if I could, it would be impossible to stop."
He glanced at Quirrell. "Professor, you know that such a spell would be minimally effective against an adult mountain monster. To minimize risk, killing it was the safest choice."
"Very well—plus 20 points for Slytherin." McGonagall softened slightly. Then she turned to Snape. "And the Gryffindor students? Why are they here?"
"They came to check on Miss Granger instead of alerting a professor," Snape said, his tone sardonic. "Perhaps the famous saviors thought they could handle a full-grown troll. Thirty points from Gryffindor for recklessness."
McGonagall glanced at Harry and Ronald. "Their intention was understandable—they rushed to help a classmate. I suggest ten points be added for bravery and responsibility. Agree, Severus?"
Snape glanced at her silently and walked away.
Solim looked at the limping Snape. Probably annoyed, he thought, and he'd be in no mood to assist anyone tonight.
"You should return to your common rooms and stay out of trouble." McGonagall's glare reinforced the warning.
Quirrell stammered nervously, "I… I'll take care of it." Solim merely smirked and ignored him.
"Come on, Hermione. Today is Thursday—Neville and Draco are probably waiting at the old place." Solim led her out, ignoring Harry and Ronald.
After hearing Hermione's story, Solim sneered. "So you risked yourself because of jealousy? Remember what I told you about the Dark Arts: jealousy is the real Dark Art. Take care, Hermione."