Beuwulf
patreon
The Stormborn - Chapter - 63
🕑 Added 2025-10-22 16:32:56 +0000 UTCDraco and Hermione could hardly keep up as they hurried down the dark corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Harry, however, was practically glowing with excitement, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
“That was amazing!” he exclaimed in a whisper that was far too loud. “Did you see his paws? And those teeth—magnificent! I’m telling you, I’m coming back. I could build him a den at Highlands Manor, somewhere near the cliffs. Maybe even—”
Hermione grabbed his arm, hissing, “Harry! Keep your voice down!” She glanced around, her heart pounding. The last thing they needed was Filch—or worse, Snape—catching them sneaking out of the forbidden corridor.
Draco shook his head, still pale from the encounter. “You are absolutely insane. You slapped a Cerberus. Who does that?”
Harry just shrugged, a boyish sparkle in his eyes. “He tried to bite me first. Had to teach him some manners.”
Hermione groaned softly. “You slapped a creature that could have eaten you whole!”
“He didn’t,” Harry said simply, as if that explained everything.
The trio reached a stairwell, the torches flickering as they descended. The echo of laughter from the Great Hall was still faintly audible—it was the sound of safety, of hundreds of witnesses who hadn’t a clue about the rule-breaking happening just floors away.
Draco muttered, “Alright, you’ve seen the Cerberus. Mission accomplished. Now can we please get you out before we’re caught?”
Harry was still lost in thought. “He was a good dog. Obedient, smart—loyal, too. If I could just get him out of there—”
Both Hermione and Draco froze mid-step.
“You’re not serious, are you?” Hermione asked, eyes wide.
Harry’s grin turned mischievous. “Why not? He deserves better than being chained up guarding some dusty old trapdoor. I could take care of him.”
Draco nearly tripped over his own feet. “You want to kidnap the Cerberus? The one owned by Hogwarts?!”
Harry blinked innocently. “Technically, he’s just a guard. No one’s claimed him. I could give him a better life.”
Hermione buried her face in her hands. “Unbelievable.”
Draco let out a long sigh, trying to reason with him. “Alright, listen. You can’t just steal school property. But if you really want a Cerberus—”
Harry perked up. “Yes?”
“—then talk to Hagrid,” Draco said quickly. “He’s the biggest magical creature fanatic alive. If anyone can find you one—or, well, raise one—it’s him.”
Hermione nodded eagerly, seizing the chance to redirect Harry’s enthusiasm. “Yes! Hagrid’s wonderful with creatures. You’d get along with him. He could even teach you how to handle a Cerberus properly.”
Harry paused, considering it. “You think he would?”
Draco smirked. “Oh, he’d probably cry with happiness. Finally someone else who’s as mad about beasts as he is.”
A grin spread across Harry’s face, his earlier thoughts of kidnapping fading. “Alright, fine. I’ll ask Hagrid. But only if you promise you’ll introduce me properly.”
Hermione exhaled in relief. “Deal. Just… no stealing anything from Hogwarts, please.”
Draco muttered under his breath, “Not until he tries to adopt a dragon next.”
Harry shot him a sly look. “Now that’s not a bad idea.”
“Don’t even think about it!” Hermione whispered sharply.
The castle was quiet again as the three of them hurried through the torch-lit hallways. Their shoes echoed against the stone, the faint smell of smoke and roasted food from the feast still clinging to the air. Everything seemed fine—until Hermione’s steps grew uneven.
Harry frowned. “Hermione, what’s wrong? You’re walking funny.”
Hermione looked mortified. “I—well—it’s nothing, I just need to go to the loo.”
Draco blinked. “Now? We’re in the middle of sneaking you out of a castle!”
Hermione crossed her arms, her cheeks flushed. “It’s an emergency, Draco.”
Harry chuckled under his breath. “Fine. But make it quick.”
They turned a corner and stopped on the second floor. A dim lantern flickered beside a half-open door with cracked tiles inside. The sign read: Girls’ Bathroom. Cobwebs hung thick along the ceiling, and a faint dripping sound echoed within.
Draco groaned. “Please don’t tell me—”
Hermione nodded grimly. “Yes. Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.”
“Perfect,” Draco muttered. “The most haunted toilet in the school.”
But Hermione had no choice. She took a deep breath, pushed open the creaky door, and disappeared inside.
Harry and Draco stood outside in awkward silence.
“You know,” Draco said after a moment, “this is the part in every story where something horrible happens.”
Harry smirked. “Don’t jinx it.”
Draco folded his arms. “Just put on your cloak. If someone comes—”
Harry shook his head, confident. “No one’s going to come. Everyone’s at the feast.”
Just then, Hermione’s footsteps echoed from inside. The door creaked open as she emerged, looking relieved. “See? Told you I’d be quick.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply—then suddenly stopped. He sniffed the air. Once. Twice.
His expression changed instantly.
Draco frowned. “What? What’s wrong?”
Harry inhaled again, a strange gleam lighting his eyes. Then he smiled. “That smell… earthy, damp, a little like swamp moss.”
Draco blinked. “What are you—”
Harry’s grin widened. “So, this is how you celebrate Halloween at Hogwarts—by bringing in trolls for entertainment?”
Draco’s blood ran cold. “Trolls?! What are you talking about? There are no trolls in Hogwarts!”
But before he could finish the sentence, the floor trembled. A deep thoom shook dust from the ceiling.
Another thoom.
And then—out of the shadows at the far end of the corridor—came the shape of something enormous. Its skin was gray and cracked like rock, its nostrils flaring with each heavy breath. A massive wooden club dragged behind it, scraping the floor with a grating sound.
Hermione gasped, her voice trembling. “Oh no… it’s a real mountain troll!”
The troll blinked stupidly at them, its tiny eyes glinting in the torchlight. Then it let out a deafening roar that made every window shake.
“Run!” Draco shouted.
Hermione didn’t need to be told twice. They turned and sprinted down the corridor, their footsteps echoing wildly.
But when Hermione dared to glance over her shoulder, her heart nearly stopped—Harry wasn’t with them.
“Harry!” she screamed, skidding to a halt.
Draco turned too, eyes wide. “Where is he?!”
And then they saw him.
Harry wasn’t running away. He was charging toward the troll.
“What is he doing?!” Hermione cried.
Draco’s voice cracked. “Dying, probably!”
The troll roared again, raising its massive club high into the air. But Harry didn’t slow down. He darted forward with the speed of a Quidditch player, his cloak fluttering behind him like a comet tail.
Hermione could only watch in horror as the boy met the beast head-on.
The troll’s roar rolled down the corridor like thunder. Draco and Hermione’s screams echoed back at it—but Harry didn’t slow down.
He sprinted straight at the creature, cloak tossed aside, every muscle coiled with Asgardian power. The troll raised its club, a tree-trunk of iron-bound wood, and swung. The air cracked.
Harry dove sideways, the wind of the blow ripping through his robes. He slid across the flagstones, boots sparking, and came up behind the creature.
“Oi, ugly!” he shouted.
The troll turned with surprising speed, nostrils flaring. It bellowed, bringing the club down again. This time Harry ducked under it, then rammed his shoulder into the beast’s leg. The impact shook the floor.
The troll staggered a step but didn’t fall. It snarled, backhanding him with its free arm.
The blow hit like a battering ram. Harry flew several feet, slammed into the wall, and coughed hard, the breath knocked out of him. Pain lanced across his ribs—but he grinned through it. “Alright,” he muttered, “you hit harder than you look.”
Hermione’s voice shrieked down the corridor. “Harry, stop it! You’ll get yourself killed!”
He ignored her. The troll lumbered forward, each step cracking stone. Harry rolled to his feet and darted between its legs. The creature tried to follow, but Harry sprang up behind it and leapt—an impossible, effortless leap that carried him to the level of its shoulders.
He slammed his fist into the back of the troll’s head.
The crack echoed like a thunderclap. The troll roared, staggering again. Harry didn’t give it time; he struck twice more, each blow shaking its skull, his punches glowing faintly with the strength of his Asgardian blood.
“Come on, big guy!” he growled. “You can do better than that!”
The troll swung backward blindly, clipping Harry’s side. The hit sent him sprawling, pain blooming across his ribs, but he rolled and was up again in a blink. A faint line of blood ran down his cheek.
He spat it out, smirked, and sprinted forward once more. “Round two!”
He ducked under the next swing, planted his foot, and drove an uppercut straight into the troll’s gut. The sound was like a hammer striking steel. The monster wheezed, eyes bulging, and Harry followed with another blow—this time a full-force punch to the chest.
The troll lifted off the ground.
It crashed backward into the wall with a deafening BOOM, stones cracking under its weight. Dust rained down from the ceiling. The creature slid down the wall and slumped, dazed, its club clattering to the floor.
Draco’s mouth hung open. “Merlin’s beard…”
Hermione’s voice was barely a whisper. “He… he punched a troll…”
Harry winced, rubbing his shoulder. “And it hurts like hell,” he muttered. “They’ve got skulls like boulders.”
The troll groaned faintly, but its limbs were limp. Harry grabbed its club and tossed it aside with one hand like it weighed nothing. Then he looked at his friends, who were still frozen in disbelief.
“What?” he said, grinning.
Hermione rushed to him, eyes wide with panic and awe. “Harry, you could have died! That thing could have—”
He cut her off gently. “But it didn’t. And look, no one got hurt.”
Draco shook his head, still staring at the unconscious troll. “You’re not human.”
Harry smirked. “I am a God, puny human.”
He flexed his bruised knuckles, then looked back down the corridor. “Come on, before someone hears the noise. The professors will be here any minute.”
Hermione glanced once more at the fallen beast, then at Harry. “You’re unbelievable.”
Before Hermione could finish speaking, Harry’s expression changed—his gaze snapping toward the far corridor, every muscle tense. His eyes glowed faintly gold for a second as his supernatural senses sharpened.
“Someone’s coming,” he said quickly.
Draco froze. “How can you possibly—”
Harry cut him off, voice steady but urgent. “I can hear them. At least seven… heavy boots, quick pace. Professors—They’ll be here in less than thirty seconds.”
Hermione gasped. “We’re done for!”
Without hesitation, Harry pulled out his shimmering Invisibility Cloak and tossed it to Draco. “Cover both of you. Stay quiet. Go to the stairs and take the west corridor.”
Draco fumbled with the silvery fabric, staring at him. “What about you? You can’t just—”
“I’ll take care of myself,” Harry interrupted.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Harry, how?!”
He just gave a small, confident grin. “Trust me.”
Before either of them could protest, a faint ripple of lightning crackled over his hands, crawling up his arms like living energy. The air around him began to hum, hair lifting slightly in the electric charge.
“Harry!” Hermione whispered sharply. “What are you doing—?”
But the rest of her sentence was swallowed by the sudden whoosh of wind and light.
In an instant, Harry’s form blurred—his body folding into radiant wings of gold and silver feathers, his eyes like twin bolts of lightning. With a burst of raw energy, the boy was gone, replaced by a majestic Thunderbird.
The creature spread its enormous wings, the tips sparking with living light. The corridor filled with the smell of ozone and a deep, thrumming energy that made Draco’s hair stand on end.
Hermione’s mouth fell open. “Oh… my…”
Draco whispered, “He’s beautiful.”
The Thunderbird—let out a soft, echoing cry that rolled like distant thunder through the hallways. Then, with one powerful flap, he shot forward, soaring past the windows in a blur of light.
And just as he reached the end of the corridor, his massive form vanished—gone in a flash of lightning that cracked the air and left only a faint trace of ozone behind.
Draco and Hermione stood frozen under the cloak, hearts hammering.
Footsteps thundered around the corner seconds later—Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and two prefects came rushing into view. McGonagall’s eyes widened at the sight of the fallen troll; Flitwick gasped audibly.
Hermione held her breath.
“What—by Merlin’s beard—happened here?” McGonagall whispered.
“The troll’s unconscious,” Snape said coldly, his eyes scanning the wreckage. “And no spell residue… this wasn’t done with magic.”
“Then what did this?” Flitwick asked, his voice trembling.
Snape’s expression hardened. “Something very powerful.”
Hermione dared a small glance at Draco under the cloak, and Draco’s lips moved soundlessly.
Someone very powerful, he mouthed.
Comments
David Zimmerle
I hope he cleaned up his blood lol
