Dylan was completely speechless at this bunch of little brats.
He could not help wondering whether, when he was their age, he had also been as fond of sulking and bickering as Ron and the others.
After a moment of thought, he silently shook his head.
That was too long ago. He had already lived two lives; there was no way to remember that clearly.
They had just arrived in the Great Hall.
Had not even warmed their seats.
Quirrell suddenly burst through the doors, face twisted in terror, and rushed inside.
"Troll! In the dungeons—troll—in the dungeons!"
Dylan was in the middle of eating lamb chops.
He did not react much when he saw Quirrell.
Harry, on the other hand, nearly choked himself to death on mashed potatoes.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Dylan pushed a glass of milk toward him.
Harry shot him a grateful look and gulped it down.
Only when his breathing eased did he stop.
The younger students, who had all been in such high spirits, were now panicking, some already screaming uncontrollably.
The upper years were slightly calmer, but their faces were pale as they jumped up and fumbled around for their wands.
In an instant, the Great Hall was in total chaos.
No one paid any attention to Quirrell, who had collapsed on the floor.
"Silence!"
Suddenly, a purple spark exploded against the enchanted ceiling.
Dumbledore's booming voice crushed all the screaming at once.
"Wow, that Sonorus was flawless."
Dylan had studied the Amplifying Charm as well.
In fact, he had done some light research on a great many spells.
Not because he wanted to be greedy, but because with six max-level Dark spells already under his belt, he could draw analogies from their principles to many other branches of magic.
That meant he hardly needed to spend focused time to pick up new spells; getting started was easy.
Even if that did not instantly push every spell to a high or max level of proficiency,
he could at least get them to level one to four.
Which was enough to count as "learning" a new spell.
So Dylan's policy was: no matter how high or low the proficiency, learn the spell first.
Knowing was always better than not knowing.
How well he knew it was something to worry about later.
Forget that nonsense about "a jack of all trades is master of none." In magic, knowing a bit of everything often meant everything connected.
And most spells shared similarities here and there. Learning one might easily inspire understanding in another and suddenly bump a proficiency way up.
"All prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories!"
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Hall.
Harry and Ron looked at each other, both faces tight. Clearly, they were thinking about Hermione.
Dylan, meanwhile, took the chance to analyze Dumbledore's control of the Amplifying Charm.
"Hmm… that's at least level eight. The volume's huge, but the tone is still rich and pleasant, without the slightest trace of distortion or harshness."
Right then Percy was marching up and down in front of the first-year Gryffindors.
"Come on, stop eating. You! Yes, you there! Put down that Blood-Bogey Éclair and get in line!"
"And you, what are you eating—Spicy Pickled Screaming Whelks? That's much too hot for someone your age! Up, now, and follow me!"
Percy hustled the Gryffindor first-years out of the Hall.
Halfway down the corridor,
Harry and Ron edged closer together
and then squeezed over toward Dylan.
Both looked anxious as they turned to him. "There's really a troll in the school? Merlin, that's unbelievable! And Hermione didn't come to the feast—she might still not know about it!"
"Uh…" Dylan paused. "She probably doesn't."
Obviously. They had only just heard about the troll; how could Hermione possibly know?
"What?" Harry's eyes went wide.
Ron started to panic too, their quarrel forgotten. "Then we have to go find her, don't we?"
Dylan's eyes flickered.
Realistically, if he went straight after the troll now, he would probably run into other professors.
But if he went with Harry and Ron…
"Forget it. I'll just use Avada Kedavra like it's Reducto."
He had already changed his attack visuals to pink starlight particles. Forget just confusing Harry and the other first-years—
even a professor might not be able to tell what spell he was using at a glance.
On top of that, his Dark spells left no trace. Even if Harry saw him kill the troll and told McGonagall and the others,
they still would not be able to determine what curse he had used.
"We have to find Hermione," Harry said firmly.
"So what are we waiting for? Let's slip out of the line!" Ron grabbed both Harry's and Dylan's hands.
Dylan: "…"
No one had asked whether he was going or not.
But thinking of the troll's parts,
he bent his knees with them and slipped quietly out of the line.
"Too bad my System doesn't have a pet-taming function."
As Dylan was muttering this to himself,
Harry whispered, "This way."
"Where's that?" Dylan asked.
"No idea." Harry scanned the halls, tense, dragging Ron and Dylan around at random.
"…Right. Whatever you say."
"What—someone's coming! Hide!"
Harry darted around a corner, then instantly jerked back, pulling Dylan into the shadows.
Ron dove in after them.
They were so smooth about it that they were clearly used to this kind of thing.
Dylan smacked his lips.
Peering out, he saw a billow of black robes sweep past the corridor outside.
"Looked like Professor Snape." Once they were gone, Harry poked his head out.
"Where do we look for Hermione now?" Ron whispered, eyes shifting. "I think I heard someone say she's been hiding in a bathroom, crying."
"Then we'll check the bathrooms." Once the noise outside had died down a bit, Dylan pulled out his wand.
"Disillusionment Charm!"
The Disillusionment Charm was an advanced spell; Dylan currently had it at level five.
He could not pull a Dumbledore or Voldemort and go completely invisible without a Cloak,
but it was more than enough to fool some first-years.
A spray of pink starlight particles flashed.
Harry and Ron just stared.
"Dylan, you—"
(End of Chapter)
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