The Spiteful Sorting Hat

Halloween

To demonstrate, he pointed his wand at a passing Ravenclaw and said "Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry and Millie laughed as the back of the boy's robes flew up over his head.

"See? Easy as flying."

"Is that another thing I'm supposed to find easy?" Millie asked, her expression suddenly dark. Four more sessions of flying class, and her performance was still abysmal at best. Harry and Blaise exchanged a look, wondering if they were both in for a bat-bogey hex, but then Millie broke into a smile.

"Only joking," she said. "Show me that movement again."

They spent most of the afternoon between classes working out spells, dodging teachers so as not to be caught practicing in the halls. Harry had also promised to give special flying lessons to Blaise and Millie, though he wasn't sure how they, as first-years, were going to get their hands on a broom to practice with.

They were still brain-storming ideas for how to break into the broom storage closet as they headed down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, but the grand holiday decorations quickly blasted any rule-breaking activities far from their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low, black clouds, causing the candles in the many jack-o-lanterns to sputter. The usual banquet fare had already appeared on the long dining tables, though this time there was the added treat of pumpkin pasties, cockroach clusters, and other sweet treats. Harry and his friends settled down at the Slytherin table, each with wide grins on their faces. Clearly, no one knew how to celebrate All-Hallows Eve quite like a bunch of witches and wizards.

Harry was trying to decide if he wanted to start with dessert or save if for later when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, turban askew and terror on his face.

"Troll!" he screeched in a voice so loud it immediately silenced all other conversation in the hall. "Troll in the dungeons!"

He came to a sudden stop halfway toward the staff table, as if his legs would no longer carry him, and sank to the floor.

"Thought you ought to know," he gasped, then fell flat on his face in a dead faint.

Screams of terror broke out among the students. Harry did not join in the general din, though he also felt terrified. Professor Quirrell had recently taught his first-year students a little about trolls during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry knew enough now to realize they were not creatures he was keen on meeting.

Professor Dumbledore fired off several purple firecrackers to restore order, or at least to put an end to the uproar.

"Prefects," he said into the sudden silence, "lead your houses back to the dormitories. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."

The prefects from the other three houses sprung into action immediately, barking orders and filing the students out of the hall in neat lines. The Slytherin house remained rooted to their seats, looking at one another in fright. There was a very serious problem with Dumbledore's plan. The entrance to the Slytherin common room was located in the dungeons.

"What do we do?" cried Pansy Parkinson, appealing to their own house prefects.

For once, Gemma Farley looked to be at a loss for words. Her eyes were wide and her face was very pale, but to her credit, her voice was steady when she spoke. "We wait here. The teachers are going to the dungeon now to take care of the troll. We'll all stay right here until they come back."

Most of the students seemed appeased by this plan, but Harry and his friends exchanged wary glances. What if the troll hadn't stayed in the dungeon? Or worse, what if there was more than one? Harry wasn't sure how a troll could have crept into Hogwarts in the first place. They weren't supposed to be very intelligent creatures. But if one managed to get in, couldn't there be another?