After separating from the Weasley brothers, the Halloween feast was about to begin.
At this moment, nearly all the professors and students were in the Great Hall, and the corridors were nearly deserted. Robert turned around and walked toward the stairs, but as he passed the entrance to the underground classroom, he vaguely heard a dull thud and caught a faint foul odor in the air.
The Troll had clearly been released—he had to hurry.
Without hesitation, Robert quickened his pace and rushed upstairs. His movements were swift, and the stairs themselves seemed unusually cooperative, so he reached the third floor with almost no effort.
"Ow!"
"Damn it, it's you again, you stupid cat! Get out, get out!"
At the same time, the sounds of loud meowing and Filch's furious roars echoed from upstairs. The noise gradually faded and disappeared at the end of the corridor.
Robert seized the opportunity and swiftly moved up to the fourth floor. Just as he had anticipated, he encountered no obstacles this time and reached the locked door with ease.
He pulled out his wand and tapped the lock.
"Alohomora!"
No response.
Well, that was expected. How could a door personally guarded by Professor McGonagall—who could turn into an Animagus—be opened so easily?
Without hesitation, Robert put his wand away and pulled out a green, twig-like object from his pocket—a Bowtruckle, something he'd received from Hagrid.
As a wandmaker, Robert had learned to handle these little creatures from a young age. After paying the price of two woodlice, the Bowtruckle obediently wriggled into the keyhole.
With a click, the lock gave way, and Robert breathed a sigh of relief.
Thankfully, Dumbledore likely hadn't anticipated anyone would break into this room and had only cast an anti-unlocking charm. If he'd taken additional precautions, Robert's plan might have been doomed from the start.
He quickly pulled the door open.
Though he had mentally prepared himself, Robert's legs still turned to jelly when he actually laid eyes on the ten-foot-tall Fluffy behind the door—an enormous, three-headed dog roughly the size of an adult elephant.
Six fierce, rolling eyes locked onto him. Three slobbering mouths opened simultaneously, thick strings of saliva hanging from yellowish fangs.
Startled by Robert's sudden intrusion, Fluffy hesitated briefly. But then, all three heads let out an earth-shattering roar.
Without pause, Robert pulled out an item he'd bought from the Weasley brothers and tore off the outer wrapping to reveal a roughly made toy—one that looked like a harp-playing Balu'o, resembling a Muggle music box.
Though not as famous as The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Balu'o was a beloved part of many wizarding childhoods.
Once free of its packaging, the toy began to play its harp cheerfully.
As soon as the melody rang out, Fluffy's barking stopped.
The massive beast's eyes began to droop, and after swaying a few times, it collapsed with a heavy thud into a deep sleep.
Looking at the slumbering creature—its body like a small mountain—Robert steadied his breathing and summoned his courage. He slowly stepped forward.
Even from a distance, he could feel Fluffy's hot, foul breath—enough to make him nauseous.
Holding his breath, Robert moved behind the creature and yanked its tail.
Fluffy flinched slightly, and Robert's heart nearly leapt into his throat.
Thankfully, it didn't wake up.
Robert patted his chest and continued. He carefully plucked a few long hairs—from its lower back, its forelegs, and even from its three heads.
Fluffy remained asleep, and with each successful attempt, Robert's confidence grew.
Finally, he reached into one of the wide-open mouths and grabbed hold of a tooth nearly three inches long.
It wouldn't budge.
Robert had anticipated this. He had only one chance and had to prepare carefully.
He opened the door fully to ensure a quick escape route, then removed the toy to erase signs of his presence.
After that, he pulled a wand from his pocket—a semi-finished piece with a small gap remaining in its shaft.
"Forgive me, Fluffy. I'll make it up to you later," Robert whispered, offering a silent apology.
He inserted the wand into the gap between the tooth and gum, sealing the final seam with a casual spell.
One...
Two...
Three...
Boom!
The wand exploded with a bang, followed by Fluffy's pained howl.
Even though Fluffy had thick skin, a blast inside its mouth—where it had no fur—was excruciating.
Several teeth were blown out immediately.
Robert snatched them up and sprang backward. Without glancing behind, he dashed through the door, slammed it shut, and locked it in one smooth motion.
Behind him, furious roars echoed. The heat on the back of his neck lingered, but Robert felt immense relief and leaned against the door, panting.
Cherry wood and Red Cap nerve—what a volatile combination.
Though nerve-wracking, the operation had been worth it.
He opened his hands. Each held a tooth as large as his palm—an unexpected bonus. The blast had been far more intense than he'd predicted, sending teeth from both sides flying out.
No wonder Fluffy's howl was so tragic.
Robert felt a pang of guilt. When he had the chance, he'd visit the kitchens and get Fluffy some meat. He wasn't sure if the creature even got regular meals for guarding the room.
But that would have to wait.
Right now, the noise was sure to draw attention, and he had to leave the area before the professors arrived.
Then Robert looked up...
And felt like cursing.
At the far end of the corridor stood a Troll—twelve feet tall and reeking terribly.
He'd been so focused on Fluffy that he hadn't noticed the smell before.
Why was the Troll here?
Ah—of course. According to Quirrell's original plan, the Troll's target had been the fourth floor. Without Harry and Ron to stop it, it had arrived without any obstacles.
Realizing this, Robert felt like swearing again.
To make matters worse, the Troll's tiny, ugly eyes spotted him almost immediately.
Without hesitation, the creature began to approach, raising its heavy wooden club high above its head.
Now, with Fluffy behind and the Troll ahead, Robert found himself caught in the middle.
There was no way he could fight it head-on. Even if he somehow managed to win, the impact of a charging twelve-foot monster would flatten him before he had the chance.
No time to hesitate.
He slapped the keyhole and shouted:
"Open it!"
Fortunately, the Bowtruckle was still inside.
It had also spotted the charging Troll and was frozen in terror. But at Robert's command, its survival instincts kicked in. The Bowtruckle worked faster than before.
Robert yanked the door open and, with his other hand, tore off the pointed hat hanging from his robe. He waved his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The hat floated up and landed on the Troll's head, perfectly covering its eyes.
Blinded, the Troll panicked and tried to stop—but a lumbering twelve-foot creature couldn't halt so easily.
Not only did it fail to stop, but it stumbled.
The massive beast lost its balance and crashed forward—straight into the open doorway.
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