Chapter 49: The Advancing Troll

The moment Sherlock laid eyes on the troll, a passage of descriptive text flashed instantly through his mind.

[Trolls are native to Scandinavia, but can now be found in Britain, Ireland, and Northern Europe.]
[They enjoy eating raw meat, though they are not picky about their prey, catching everything from wild animals to humans, with a particular fondness for fish.]
[Their living habits are extremely violent, and they frequently resort to brawling without any provocation.]
[Based on their appearance and habitat, they can be divided into three breeds: mountain trolls, forest trolls, and river trolls.]
[Mountain trolls are the largest and most dangerous of them all.]

Whether it was *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*, a mandatory first-year textbook, or *Surviving the Wilderness*, a book Sherlock purchased purely out of personal interest, both provided introductions to trolls.

The former leaned more towards popular science, filled mostly with theory.
The latter, however, was written based on the author's personal, firsthand experiences—devoid of theory and entirely practical.

At that moment, Sherlock quickly retrieved both from the attic of his memory.
Unfortunately, the creature that had appeared before him and Hermione was precisely the most troublesome of all: a mountain troll.

"One cannot generalize about the physical constitutions of different people. Once, in a state of extreme fury, I managed to knock down a mountain troll using nothing more than a longsword.
Regrettably, the protein content of a troll is very low—barely one-sixth that of beef—making it entirely unfit for consumption, even with the head removed.
For those of you reading this book, my advice is to avoid confronting them head-on unless absolutely necessary.
Unless you happen to be a powerful wizard, or possess a physique as robust as my own."

Having seen the troll with his own eyes, Sherlock felt a deep sense of agreement with the author's words.
Therefore, without a second thought, he clamped a hand over Hermione’s mouth and dragged her out of the girls' restroom.

Had she been treated this way under normal circumstances, Hermione certainly would not have cooperated.
Presently, however, Hermione was exhausted and starving; to put it mildly, she had cried until she had no tears left.
Thus, running into Sherlock at that moment meant she simply left her fate entirely in his hands.

As for the troll, it had stopped beside a door, peering inside.
After a long moment, having presumably found no target, it finally made a difficult decision with its tiny brain.
Under the watchful eyes of Sherlock and Hermione, the troll that had broken into the basement slowly turned around and lumbered away, lifting its flat, thick, calloused feet.

"Though its acting was clumsy, it is somewhat smarter than I imagined."
Watching the departing back of the troll, Sherlock muttered to himself.

At that moment, Hermione finally snapped out of her shock.
She silently removed Sherlock's hand from her mouth, stood up straight, and straightened her clothes.
Hearing Sherlock's remark, she asked with a puzzled frown, "What did you say?"

"Someone is coming."
Instead of answering, Sherlock pointed toward the side and once again pulled Hermione into hiding.
Having been in a state of extreme tension earlier, she hadn't felt much when Sherlock dragged her away, but now she could not help feeling a slight sense of subtle awkwardness.

Yet the next moment, her gaze was instantly captured by a figure that suddenly appeared.
For the person walking past was none other than their Potions professor and the Head of Slytherin House—
Severus Snape.

Watching him walk down the corridor and vanish from her sight, Hermione could not help asking,
"Professor Snape? Why is he down here all by himself?
At this time, shouldn't everyone be in the Great Hall celebrating Halloween?
And Sherlock, why did you come here to look for me?"

Once she returned to normal, Hermione's brilliant intellect immediately reoccupied the high ground, and a string of questions tumbled out of her mouth.

"We can talk about these things later." Sherlock had no desire to explain right now; his gaze shifted to the side. "Let's bring those two along first."

"What did you say?"
Hermione failed to react for a second.

"Oh, dear Hermione," Sherlock turned his head to look at her, a hint of playful amusement in his eyes, "if you had been observant enough, you would have noticed there are two other people over there."

Following the direction of Sherlock's gesture, Hermione looked over in surprise and saw two heads slowly poking out from behind a large stone statue of a manticore.
One of them was none other than the very culprit who had nearly trapped her here—Ron Weasley.
As for the other, naturally, was Ron's best friend, Harry Potter.

When they witnessed the massive frame of the troll with their own eyes, both Harry and Ron had been frozen in terror.
They held their breath, not daring to make the slightest sound for fear of being heard by the monster.
Having finally waited for the troll to leave, they unexpectedly heard another sound approaching from behind.
Mistaking it for Percy following them, the two boys had hurriedly ducked behind the stone manticore statue off to the side, only to see Snape instead.

Harry immediately lowered his voice and whispered to Ron beside him, "Why isn't he with the other teachers? What is he doing down in the dungeons?"

"How should I know!"
Ron appeared somewhat agitated.
After all, he was a good person at heart.
Although he had spoken harshly to Hermione earlier that day, he had never once intended to harm her.
Now, realizing that Hermione might have crossed paths with the troll because of him, he was consumed by guilt and regret.

"He's heading toward the fourth floor," Harry noted, his attention still fixed on Snape, especially since Dumbledore had specifically designated the fourth floor as out of bounds.

Ron raised a hand in gesture. "Harry, we came to find..."
Before he could finish, a voice interrupted him.

"I suggest you don't waste your energy on him."

"Sherlock!"
The moment he saw Sherlock, Harry was overjoyed. That feeling of suddenly finding their anchor again—words could not describe how happy he was.

As for Ron, his eyes immediately went to Hermione standing beside Sherlock.
He let out a long breath of relief. "Sherlock, you really did come to rescue her!"

Oddly enough, seeing Hermione standing safely by Sherlock's side, a strange and subtle thought suddenly welled up inside him.
*I wish I had been the one to save her.*

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Ron startled himself.
*Damn it, how could I think something like that?*
*The most important thing is that Granger is safe!*
*Probably because I caused this mess that I wanted to save her myself, right?*
*Yes, that must be it!*
Ron thought to himself.

"Well, more or less," Sherlock nodded. "At the same time, it's to verify a deduction of mine."

"What deduction? By the way, did you see the troll just now?"

"Of course." Sherlock looked into the distance, his gaze growing profound. He turned to Harry and Ron. "I'm going to keep following it. Are you coming?"

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
Now that Hermione was safe, the adventurous impulses within the trio immediately flared to life.
Tracking a professor who was also a Head of House—just the thought of it was thrilling!

"It? Not him?"
Only Hermione caught Sherlock's specific pronoun.

"Hermione, you've spotted the blind spot," Sherlock smiled at her, confirming her observation. "It's 'it'."

Harry and Ron finally reacted. "Wait, aren't we following Snape?"

"No, the troll."

"What?"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron all stared at him with wide eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," Sherlock said calmly. "If my deduction is correct, the crucial part is about to begin... Do you still want to come?"

"Of course!"
Though they felt Sherlock's current actions were somewhat baffling, the three companions chose without a moment's hesitation to follow along with him.