Chapter 217. The Troll Playing Dead
"What is that smell? It's far too foul!"
Ron's face turned aubergine-purple and he howled in miserable pain.
He stumbled back two steps and came down hard on Harry's toes.
But he had no intention of apologising, and Harry had no mind to pursue it.
They ran together to a spot farther from the door, bent over, and retched nonstop.
Before the door opened, Hermione had been lightly tugged back by Duncan, so she fell a few steps behind Ron and Harry.
She was spared the assault of the stench.
Looking at Harry and Ron, whose faces were twisted as they retched as if they'd run out of breath, Hermione's expression showed relief.
She quietly glanced at Duncan.
She blinked suspiciously, as if to ask, "Why did you tell me to stop in advance?
Did you already know what was inside?"
Duncan gave Hermione a mysterious smile, raised his wand, and flicked it.
A breeze flowed from the tip and blew in through the crack of the half-shut door.
After waiting a moment and confirming the smell in the room ahead had dispersed, Duncan led Hermione towards the doorway.
He turned his head and called to Harry and Ron, who were still vomiting.
"It's been quite a while now. You two should have finished and caught your breath, right?"
"Duncan, don't be so smug. If you'd been in front just now, you wouldn't have been able to stand that smell either. You'd definitely be the same as us right now!"
Ron braced his hands on his knees and shakily lifted his head.
His face was as pale as paper, his voice feeble and full of grievance.
"How about you two stay there and throw up for a bit?" Duncan said from the doorway.
"We'll come back for you after we've caught that person?"
"Don't—don't leave us behind!" Harry stopped retching, lifted his head with difficulty, and spoke.
Supporting each other, he and Ron staggered towards Duncan.
"I didn't expect the two of you to be so persistent."
Duncan smiled, pushed the wooden door fully open, and stepped in first.
Inside was a dim room.
At the centre of each side wall there was a small stone plinth with a lump of dark-red flame flickering on top.
Leftovers were scattered across the floor.
Many had turned into sticky clumps that seeped with juices, and the corners were smeared with excrement.
A troll with a burly frame and arms thicker than Duncan's waist lay motionless in the middle of the room.
There was not a trace of sound, as if it had already died.
Back when Quirinus Quirrell, in concert with the other professors, had locked this troll in here, he'd been busy with his own affairs and didn't care in the least whether the troll lived or died.
After Quirrell left, the one who took over here and looked after the troll was Severus Snape.
It was hard enough for him to spare time to come by even once, let alone clean this place.
So the troll's living situation had always been very harsh.
The fact it was still alive was thanks to Merlin's beard!
"No wonder it was so smelly just now!" Ron said in disgust.
He tiptoed as he moved, as if each step was an ordeal.
"There's no helping it," Duncan replied with a helpless shrug.
"This space is cramped, there's no one dedicated to cleaning, and a thick-headed creature like a troll doesn't care about its living environment.
Expecting it to keep this place tidy is simply impossible."
Harry nodded, looked at the troll lying quietly, and tiptoed past it with Ron, wanting to reach the door on the opposite side.
But just as they inched to the troll's arm, the troll's nose—like a ball of flesh—twitched.
Its fingers trembled, and then its body arched up.
Hearing the sound, Ron turned to stone, stunned for a long moment.
Then his head mechanically turned to the side and his eyes bulged in terror.
He and the troll's huge eyes met.
When the troll's arm moved again, he finally reacted, and a scream echoed through the room.
"Mum, I'm scared—save me!"
"Ron, don't just stand there—run!" Harry was a little calmer than Ron.
He swiftly drew his wand and, heedless of anything else, fired off the few spells that came to mind.
He ran quickly towards the door on the other side.
Only, his spells were like the spray from a little water pistol.
They struck the troll's face without even wiping off the grime on its skin, doing no damage at all.
They pushed the door open and rushed out.
Turning back, Ron stood beside Harry, deathly pale, staring at the troll inside that was struggling to get up.
His hands shook as he tried to pull his wand from inside his robes to help, but after several tries he still failed.
He was simply too nervous.
"Merlin's beard, this is bad.
In such a narrow space, Duncan and Hermione won't even have a chance to run over!"
"I thought this big fellow had been killed by that bloke.
But it hasn't!
Then how did he get past—was the troll asleep the whole time?"
On the other side, Hermione gripped her wand and nervously watched the newly awakened, searching troll.
Her voice trembled.
"Duncan, what should we do?"
Ron and Harry had fled.
Now only she and Duncan were facing the troll head-on, and looking at the troll's thick, powerful limbs made her shrink back a little inside.
"Don't worry.
I'm here."
Duncan smiled to soothe Hermione's nerves, stepped forward, and looked up at the troll.
"You should stay sitting," he said.
"If you stand up, it's a bit of an effort for me to talk to you."
The troll blinked.
Then it squatted down and, with a boom, obediently followed Duncan's instruction and plonked itself on the floor.
Hermione edged carefully to Duncan's side and asked curiously, "It seems to listen to you.
Did you know it before?"
"When it was first brought to the school, I looked after it for a while," Duncan replied.
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"So you already knew about this place?"
"More or less," Duncan said with a smile.
"But earlier it wasn't that I didn't want to tell you.
It's just that you never asked me."
Tilting her head, Hermione thought it over.
That did seem to be the case.
Earlier they'd been egged on by Ron and kept trying to prove themselves, and it hadn't even occurred to them to ask for help.
"Has someone gone in?" Duncan shifted his gaze from Hermione's frowning face to the troll.
"Mm-mm!" The troll nodded like a pecking chick, fear showing in its eyes.
Earlier, someone had rushed in—fierce-looking, radiating an aura that terrified the troll.
The instant he entered, he wanted to kill it.
At that critical moment, it remembered Duncan's earlier lessons in the forest.
After taking two spells, it decisively dropped to the ground and pretended to be dead.
Although the man was suspicious, he was in a hurry to leave.
And given trolls' reputation for being very stupid, he didn't think too much and left straightaway.
Looking at the troll's expression, Duncan stroked his chin.
For someone to terrify even a simple-minded troll like this—the man was no ordinary sort…
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