The first-floor corridor fell silent almost immediately after the students cleared out.

Only the flickering glow of the jack-o'-lanterns from the Great Hall spilled faint warmth into the dark hallway. The rest was nothing but stillness and shadow.

Then came a strange sound echoing through the corridor:

Clop… clop… clop…

A shimmer in the air revealed Vaughn's figure as he lifted his Disillusionment Charm. He glanced sideways and sighed.

"Why are you shaking like that?"

A nasally voice, thick with fear, whispered from the empty air beside him. "I'm scared… Didn't you hear it? That's a troll!"

"Thanks for the reminder, Ronald, but I was the one who told you that in the first place," Vaughn replied dryly. "Didn't I say I'd protect you? I even cast a Disillusionment Charm on you."

He peeked around the corner toward the Great Hall. The dancing lights caught his eyes and reflected in them, making his gaze flicker with shifting brightness.

He'd never tried to change anything too drastically.

But Vaughn knew, just by existing, he was already disturbing Harry Potter's fate.

A lot had changed at Hogwarts already. The timeline of events was no longer exactly like the books he'd once read. Still, some things, he suspected, were too deeply rooted to avoid.

Like Voldemort wanting the Philosopher's Stone.

As long as the stone remained in Hogwarts, and Voldemort still needed it to return to power, the Halloween incident would happen. It was practically inevitable.

Halloween night was the perfect time to stir up trouble. The students were all gathered in one place, easy to manage, and the staff, Dumbledore included, would be confident enough to leave, focusing their attention elsewhere. It was the ideal setup for a distraction.

Quirrell wouldn't waste that kind of opportunity.

And sure enough, just as Vaughn expected, a troll had been let into the castle.

Now the only question was whether Quirrell would dare go up to the fourth floor.

Vaughn waited patiently.

Finally, he spotted someone sneaking out of the Great Hall, none other than Quirrell. That ridiculous turban made him easy to identify.

The Defense professor scanned his surroundings, clearly checking that the coast was clear. Then he hurried off toward the upper floors.

Vaughn exhaled slowly.

Part of him wanted to see if he could intercept the Philosopher's Stone.

The other part just wanted to get a better sense of the situation.

Voldemort hadn't gotten his hands on unicorn blood yet, which meant "Socket Man" might not be in top form. Time to find out.

Just as he turned to speak to Ron, the boy whimpered beside him.

"H-how are you going to protect me from that thing?!"

Vaughn followed Ron's terrified gaze.

Rounding the corner at the far end of the hall was a massive creature—at least twelve feet tall, with leathery gray skin like weathered stone. It carried a gigantic wooden club that looked more like a tree trunk than a weapon.

It lumbered forward, all bulging muscle and knotted limbs, like a walking mountain. Its tiny head sat absurdly on top of its broad shoulders, but the size alone gave it a presence that made your gut twist.

Mum… I think I'm going to die…

Ron could've cried. Deep down, he knew this was bound to happen the moment Vaughn gave him that smile. He should've trusted his instincts and run.

His only comfort now was that he'd already told Harry his last wishes over lunch.

"Luck's not on our side today," Vaughn muttered.

The sound of Ron's chattering teeth was now loud enough to draw the troll's attention.

Vaughn sighed again.

"Honestly, Ronald, maybe don't call me 'brother' anymore."

He slowly pulled out his wand.

The troll had spotted them. It let out a snorting grunt and picked up speed, eager for a fight.

Its steps thundered like drumbeats. In seconds, it was practically on top of them.

The club rose into the air.

Ron nearly screamed.

But then he saw Vaughn step forward, calm and unflinching.

"Reducto."

CRACK!

The club exploded in midair with a thunderous bang, splinters flying in every direction. Vaughn's wand was already moving again.

"Diffindo!"

"Diffindo!"

Two sharp, slicing spells shot through the gloom, striking the troll's torso and tearing jagged rents in its rough hide. Dust and bits of flesh flew through the air. The force rattled the wall sconces and made the candles flicker wildly.

The troll finally realized it was in pain. It opened its mouth to scream.

Too late.

"Confringo."

A burst of raw, unseen magic surged from Vaughn's wand. The air snapped cold.

Then, with a horrible wet pop, the troll's jaw burst open. Its tongue and teeth shredded like wet paper.

Before it could stumble back, Vaughn fired again.

Confringo.

This time, the troll's upper jaw shattered completely. Its head snapped upward, then rocketed off its neck, trailing a mist of dark blood.

THUMP.

The troll's severed head bounced once, then rolled to a stop.

Its beady eyes blinked in confusion for a moment. Then the light faded from them.

Gulp.

Ron swallowed hard. Then instinctively clamped his legs together.

So many emotions in so few seconds. His brain had temporarily stopped functioning.

For Vaughn, killing a troll wasn't a big deal.

They were tough, yes, with thick skin that resisted magic. But otherwise, trolls were dumb and slow. If he hadn't wanted to finish it quickly and quietly, there were plenty of other ways he could've toyed with it.

He flicked his wand to cancel Ron's Disillusionment Charm. The moment the magic lifted, Ron collapsed to the floor like a rag doll.

Vaughn glanced at him. "So? Did you wet yourself?"

Ron's pride kicked in just in time.

Face red, he scrambled to sit up and puffed out his chest. "N-no! Of course not!"

Vaughn didn't bother arguing.

He plucked a single hair from his head, whispered an incantation, and watched the strand ignite with a pale flame.

When it finished burning, he pressed the ashes to Ron's neck.

"This charm lasts about an hour. Go guard the basement entrance. If any professors come out, say my name in a whisper. I'll know."

Ron's chest deflated instantly. "Wait… where are you going?"

Vaughn ignored the question.

Instead, he reached over and yanked out one of Ron's hairs.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

He repeated the incantation and pressed the second spell to his own throat.

"If no one shows up and you hear me whisper your name, go straight to Dumbledore. Got it?"

Ron knew better than to argue. Vaughn never gave orders twice.

He nodded miserably.

With everything arranged, Vaughn reached into his pocket.

He could still feel the smooth, cold weight resting there, the real reason he was bold enough to follow Quirrell.

He wasn't just curious.

He had a secret weapon.

And it was time to put it to the test.