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BFH# Chapter 55: The Song from the Underground Classroom
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 20:33:17 +0000 UTCTime returned to the present.
When Professor Quirrell shouted “Troll in the dungeon!” in the Great Hall, the Halloween feast was abruptly canceled. All students were instructed to return to their respective common rooms under the prefects’ supervision, while the professors left to deal with the troll.
As first-years, Harry and Ron were part of the crowd heading back to the dormitory.
Percy Weasley, Gryffindor’s prefect, naturally led the way. His fiery red hair and prim demeanor radiated the quiet pride of his position.
“Follow me, don’t get separated, first-years!” Percy commanded as he pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. “As long as you listen to me, there’s no need to fear the troll. Stick close. Move aside up front; the first-years are coming through!”
“Excuse me, I’m a prefect!”
With this authoritative air, Percy parted the mass of students from various houses, guiding the first-years out.
In truth, making Percy a prefect might have been one of the best decisions Hogwarts professors had ever made. The mere title was enough to fill him with boundless energy to execute his duties to perfection.
Harry and Ron trailed closely behind.
They didn’t particularly mind returning early to the common room—after all, they’d already stuffed themselves with three or four plates of chicken and two bowls of mashed potatoes at the feast.
Still, Harry asked curiously, “What does a troll look like? How did it get in?”
“Trolls, as the name suggests, are large magical creatures—and incredibly dim-witted,” Percy explained from the front. “They usually have tough skin, towering stature, and an aggressive nature. The Ministry of Magic classifies them as XXXX, meaning they’re dangerous but manageable for skilled wizards.”
“There’s even a painting of a troll clubbing Barnabas the Barmy on the eighth floor. If you’re curious, you can take a look.”
“I’m not sure if there are trolls in the Forbidden Forest—no one knows what’s in there—but if one is here, it likely came in through an unlocked door. Maybe Peeves let it in; he hasn’t pulled a major prank in a while and might be trying to make a splash.”
Percy turned a corner as he spoke, leading them toward Gryffindor Tower.
Harry nodded, half-understanding.
The surrounding crowd remained chaotic, with all four houses’ students jostling to return to their common rooms. The prefects struggled to maintain order.
As they squeezed through a corridor, they suddenly encountered a professor walking toward them—Professor Victor.
Professor Victor seemed unusually cheerful, his usual aloofness replaced with an air of satisfaction, as though something had gone well. Harry noticed something white glinting inside Victor’s cloak, but before he could make out what it was, the cloak swung closed.
Victor glanced at the throng of students clogging the Great Hall entrance and stopped Percy’s group.
“What’s going on here? Is the feast over?”
“Yes, Professor,” Percy responded promptly, standing at attention.
“There’s a troll in the dungeons. Professor Dumbledore has instructed us prefects to escort students back to their common rooms immediately, while the professors deal with the troll.”
“A troll? That’s odd,” Victor said, tilting his head. “I just came from the dungeons. Professor Quirrell was there, and he said he’d keep an eye on things.”
“The troll was discovered by Professor Quirrell, but it seems he didn’t handle it,” Percy explained.
“I see.”
Victor nodded, pausing as if in thought. His gaze lingered on the Great Hall before he prepared to leave Percy’s group.
But before he departed, Percy asked, “Have you seen Hermione, Professor? I heard she left earlier, but I haven’t seen her nearby.”
“... Miss Granger?” Victor hesitated briefly before replying. “She did head toward the dungeons. I passed her near the stairs—she seemed upset, probably heading to the restroom to freshen up.”
Percy’s expression shifted slightly, but Victor appeared unconcerned, speaking as casually as if discussing the changes to the evening feast. However, under Percy’s anxious gaze, he added, “Don’t worry; I’m heading to join the other professors now. We’ll find her soon.”
With that, Victor nodded curtly and strode away.
...
As Victor left, he paid no attention to Harry and Ron at the back of the group—or the sudden change in their expressions.
The moment Victor mentioned Hermione in the dungeons, Ron began nervously fidgeting, and Harry anxiously glanced toward the staircase leading down.
How could the professor remain so indifferent?
Hermione was with the troll—a troll!
Those XXXX-classified creatures posed a serious threat to her safety!
Once Victor disappeared around the corner, Ron bit his lip and said, “We’ve got to find Hermione.”
He looked pale but resolute.
“She probably doesn’t know about this, and the professors might take too long to get to her. By then, she could already be hurt. I’m not saying you have to come with me—I mean—ugh, it’s my fault she’s upset.”
“No problem, Ron,” Harry agreed firmly. “Let’s go find her. If she’s in the restroom, the troll shouldn’t notice her.”
“We just need to get her out.”
“You’re right... Let’s go this way; we’d better avoid Percy.”
They ducked into the Hufflepuff crowd and slipped down an empty side corridor. Moving quickly, they turned a corner and descended, but before they could go far, hurried footsteps echoed behind them.
“It might be Percy!” Ron whispered, pulling Harry behind a large hippogriff statue.
Peeking out, they saw it wasn’t Percy but Snape.
Snape’s face bore a cold, determined smile as he strode down the corridor and out of sight.
Harry and Ron cautiously followed, only to see him heading in the opposite direction of the dungeons.
“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he helping with the troll?”
“No idea,” Ron replied, shaking his head. “But that path leads to the fourth-floor spiral staircase.”
They watched Snape disappear, frustration evident on their faces—they’d love to uncover one of Snape’s secrets.
But they remembered their mission.
As they turned to leave, Ron suddenly said, “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Harry asked, confused.
Then he heard it too.
It wasn’t the troll.
As Harry pressed closer to the wall, he caught the faint sound of a melodic, clear voice singing. Though distant, the song was captivating, the singer’s voice ethereal and beautiful.
Without speaking, Harry and Ron instinctively moved toward the sound.
They turned a corner and entered the dim central area of the dungeons. The song grew clearer—a hauntingly unfamiliar melody.
As they approached, the voice sang:
"They’ll stroll together; they’ll run together;
Sit by the shore and watch the sunset;
How I wish, oh how I wish, to be part of that world!
But I don’t know how to leave the waters,
Or what price to pay to walk on the sands all day."
The voice soared, drawing them to a slightly ajar restroom door.
Harry gently pushed the door open, revealing the scene inside.
Before them stood a long mirror above the sinks, where Hogwarts witches often adjusted their appearances.
At this moment, a young witch was doing the same. She gently combed her bushy brown hair with one hand, gazing into the mirror as she sang.
"To leave the sea, to be...
...part of that world...”
Her voice was mesmerizing, her presence radiating an inexplicable charm. Harry leaned in to see who it was.
As the door creaked open further, the reflection in the mirror became clearer—
Bushy hair, brown eyes, slightly large front teeth—it was Hermione.
Hermione?!
Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. He also noticed something glinting at her neck—a golden conch shell necklace.
