Chapter 107: Inside the Castle
"Get up, Potter," Snape said, his back still to Harry, his voice having returned to its usual monotonous drawl. You are her son. You should not be kneeling on the grass, vomiting, at the sight of a mere troll. He raised his wand and pointed it at the remaining trolls, who were now charging toward him.
A series of whooshing sounds filled the air. The trolls collapsed, one after another. Some were sliced in half horizontally, some vertically. Some were diced into fine mince. The students in the stands, who had been screaming in terror, now let out a collective, sharp intake of breath. For the first time, they were witnessing the true power of their Potions Master. To see the massive, powerful trolls dispatched in the blink of an eye...
"I'm never skipping Potions class again," a student whimpered, a sentiment that was echoed throughout the stadium. Even the Gryffindors, who normally delighted in antagonizing Snape, were now as meek as kittens, all silently vowing to pay more attention in his class.
Snape told me to get up! A surge of defiance coursed through Harry. He felt as if he had been looked down upon, dismissed. "Yes, Professor!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet.
"Louder. I can't hear you," Snape said, pulling out his communicator and glancing at it.
"YES, PROFESSOR!"
"Much better."
Inside the castle library, Hermione, having no interest in Quidditch, was getting a head start on her second-semester reading. She was so engrossed in her book that she barely noticed the sound of frantic footsteps and urgent voices in the corridor outside. The librarian, Madam Pince, however, was not so easily distracted. She stormed out of the library, ready to deliver a blistering lecture on proper library etiquette.
But Hermione did not hear the expected scolding. Instead, she heard a scream. "Merlin's beard, what's happening?! Someone, help! The castle's on fire!"
I need to find a professor, Hermione thought, her mind racing. But they're all at the Quidditch match. And the Headmaster, Professor Flitwick, and Ryan are at the Ministry for the award ceremony. The only people she could think of were the older students from the Adventurers' Club. But Penelope is gone, and the others are either away or at the match.
She ran out into the corridor and saw what Madam Pince was screaming about. Black smoke was pouring from the windows of the third and fourth floors, and the orange glow of flames was visible within. How could this be happening? she thought, a wave of panic washing over her. Everyone is gone.
Suddenly, a sharp, whistling sound pierced the air, heading straight for them. Having never faced real danger, Hermione's first instinct was to look for the source of the sound. But Madam Pince, a veteran of darker times, reacted instantly. She grabbed Hermione, pulled her to the ground, and rolled them both back into the library.
"What are you doing?!" Hermione cried, scrambling to her feet and brushing the dust off her robes.
The sound of metal embedding itself in stone was Madam Pince's reply. A sharp, deadly arrow was quivering in the stone pillar by the library entrance.
"That was—" The reality of the situation hit the young witch with the force of a physical blow. She had just cheated death.
"This isn't a fire," Madam Pince said, her voice grim, her usual fussiness replaced by a steely resolve that Hermione had never seen before. "This is an attack."
"What should we do?"
"We gather whatever forces we can find," Madam Pince said, her first instinct to defend the castle, not to flee. "We hold out until the professors get back from the match, and we contact the Headmaster."
Forces... forces... Hermione's mind latched onto the word, and an idea sparked. "Madam Pince, the Adventurers' Club! Ryan left a number of his alchemical golems there. They all have some combat capability." She remembered Doro, and how Penelope had said all the models had their own power source.
"Then that is where we will go," Madam Pince declared. "We'll gather the students from the library and rescue any others we find on the way." Seeing the fear in Hermione's eyes, she offered a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Just treat it like your spell-casting practice. Point your wand at the target and release the magic. I'm sure the practical lessons Ryan has been giving you will serve you well." She had her own issues with Ryan and his habit of "borrowing" books from the library, but at that moment, she was profoundly grateful that he had been the one teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Yes, Madam Pince," Hermione said, gripping her wand, her knuckles white.
Three other students emerged from the library, all of them Ravenclaws. They had overheard the conversation and readily agreed that the Adventurers' Club was their best bet.
Just then, a heavy, rhythmic thudding echoed from the end of the corridor. A stone statue of a centaur, one that Hermione had never seen before, was striding toward them. It carried a stone longbow, and on its back were two quivers filled with the same metallic arrows that had nearly killed them.
"There is no such statue in the castle," Madam Pince said, her voice grim. "Someone has created it and brought it to life. And from the look of those arrows, it was created for one purpose: to kill."
The five of them raised their wands. Spells flew—Repelling Charms, Fire-Making Spells, even a Disarming Charm from one of the Ravenclaws, which, surprisingly, managed to empty one of the quivers. But the statue was unfazed. It nocked an arrow, drew back the string, and took aim at Madam Pince. The bowstring twanged, and the arrow flew, a streak of deadly light.
Madam Pince's Shield Charm and the stone shield she had just transfigured shattered on impact. The arrow pierced through her and sent her flying, pinning her to the library wall.
"Madam Pince!" Hermione screamed.
~~~
Get early access to 50+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn