Draco Malfoy and the Obnoxious Stone

Chapter 6

Between all the homework, and keeping Zabini and Nott out of trouble with older, half-blood Slytherins, Draco barely found time to look for more obscure books to further his research. If he was honest with himself, ever since he found out going back more than five hours back with a time turner caused so many incidents the research was scrapped, he felt unmotivated and lost.

It was no wonder Halloween was upon them in a blink of an eye. The Great Hall greeted them with thousands of bats swooping overhead, carved pumpkin lanterns on every surface spreading dim candlelight, and golden plates filled to the brim with delicious food. Draco squeezed in between Zabini and Parkinson, and took a moment to appreciate how pleasant it was to be there, if he pretended to not know how quickly the peace will be ruined.

He snatched up a slice of pumpkin pie, ignoring comments from Bulstrode about the proper order of dinner, then dessert.

"Don't pay attention to his plate, Millie," said Zabini. "Draco needs all the sweets to offset his sour personality."

"Don't ruin the mood with your cheek. It'd be a shame if Flint found out who spilled ink all over his signed copy of 'Quidditch Trough the Ages', wouldn't it?" he interjected.

"See, how do you fit all that sourness in?" He playfully poked Draco's cheek, but withdrew it almost immediately, likely sensing the rage building up in him. "Okay, okay. Don't bite!"

"Speaking of Quidditch, do you really think Potter is Gryffindor's secret weapon?" asked Nott.

The topic interested Crabbe and Goyle enough to divert at least part of their attention away from their plates.

"He caught that thing you threw in our first flying lesson, didn't he?" Goyle joined in, nodding his head in Draco's direction.

"That's true, but playing a match is completely different." maintained Nott.

"I hope he gets hit by a Bludger." Crabbe added mid-chewing.

"Yeah, and have his broom fly off to the Forbidden Forrest, like Longbottom's did." Parkinson reminded them. They continued on describing increasingly ridiculous ways Potter could embarrass himself if he played, until Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall.

He reached the teachers' table, and with terror on his face gasped, "Troll... in the dungeons. Thought you ought to know." And passed out.

Before panic fully took hold of the students, Dumbledore got their attention with a series of conjured, purple firecrackers. Draco grabbed a toffee apple, not wanting to miss out on Halloween treats just because Quirrel decided to cause trouble. Weasley's tall tales from first year gained a lot more credibility recently.

"Prefects," Dumbledore began when the hall fell quiet, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Their prefect Gemma Farley, who usually kept everyone in check by inspiring fear, gathered them and the second years up in a matter of minutes. The others were grouped up by the second prefect.

"Stick together, and keep up! Don't walk off, or I'll feed you to the troll myself." Farley led them, following closely behind a group of professors. Severus wasn't with them, Draco noticed.

"I didn't know there were trolls near Hogwarts." whispered Howell, who now looked even more pale than usual. She kept looking around in fear.

"Mountain trolls live all over Scotland, but how did one get inside the castle?" Bulstrode answered. Zabini added that the creature would have to be extraordinarily lucky to get in itself, having even fewer brain cells than Vincent, which drew a nervous laughter out of the rest of the group.