Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

To be honest, leaving was much harder than coming.

Panic was spreading, and more students were running around like headless flies.

Henry had to raise his voice: "Excuse me! Please make way! We need to get back to the Slytherin group!"

Daphne followed closely behind him, her face pale, but her eyes were as resolute as if she were standing on a dragon's throne—the experience of confronting the principal and providing important information seemed to have given this usually docile girl some unprecedented courage.

Thanks to the efforts of Miss Farley and Higgs, the Slytherin group appeared more orderly than the other houses, but a sense of panic still lingered.

Draco saw Henry and Daphne squeeze back and immediately grabbed Henry's arm: "Where have you been? Quirrell, that idiot—"

"We reported something to Headmaster Dumbledore," Henry explained briefly, his voice low enough for the Slytherins nearby to hear, "about a classmate who may be in danger."

"Danger? At this time?" Pansy's eyes widened.

“It’s that know-it-all from Gryffindor,” Daphne added softly, having calmed down considerably. “She didn’t come to the party; she was crying alone in the lavatory. His Highness Henry thought we should tell the professor.”

The Slytherin students nearby reacted in various ways upon hearing this. Some showed indifference, as if it were meddling, while others were simply curious.

Miss Farley overheard their conversation and gave them a stern look, but Henry calmly returned her gaze. She merely nodded slightly, said nothing more, and continued directing the group: "Maintain formation! Don't run! Stay behind me!"

When the familiar, cold, and damp air rushed towards them, many of the small snakes finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The stone doors to the common room closed behind us, shutting out the faint noise coming from the direction of the auditorium.

Dark green and silver-gray decor, a dimly burning fireplace, and heavy velvet curtains... the familiar environment brings a sense of security.

The students sat in twos and threes on the sofa and began to talk about the unusual thing that had just happened.

Amidst the whispers, Draco managed to maintain his composure, attempting to deliver a sarcastic remark in his usual tone: "Don't worry, even if the trolls are stupid enough to break in, the protective magic at the cellar entrance isn't to be underestimated. Besides, Professor Snape definitely has a way."

That's what he said, but his slightly trembling fingers betrayed his unsettled state of mind.

Pansy sat close to Daphne and whispered, "Did you really see...no, hear Granger crying? At a time like this?"

Daphne nodded, replying in a similarly low voice, "Yes, that's why His Highness Henry felt it necessary to inform the headmaster immediately. In case of a troll... or something else..."

Henry sat in his usual high-backed armchair by the fireplace, not joining the discussion.

The house-elf Lucy quietly brought him a steaming cup of mint tea, without revealing her presence at all.

Miss Farley was already used to this scene; she didn't even flinch.

Henry held the warm porcelain cup, letting his palms absorb some of the warmth, his gaze fixed on the leaping green flames, but his thoughts were racing.

About an hour later, as the discussions in the common room gradually shifted from panic to exhaustion and speculation, the first messages began to seep in through informal channels.

It was the fat monk—the ghost of Hufflepuff—who brought firsthand accounts of what he and the blood man Barrow had seen as they passed through the wall.

The young wizards are divided into schools, but the ghosts are not. After all, with hundreds or even thousands of years of friendship, it's not uncommon for them to occasionally visit the common rooms of other schools.

Otherwise, why would the Gryffindor wizards, when they encountered Peeves, be able to go to the West... to ask Slytherin's ghost, Bloody Barrow?

"Merlin's beard! It's quite a mess!" The fat monk's round face was full of excitement; he loved excitement and dramatic scenes. "There really was a big guy in the underground classroom! Half a head taller than Hagrid, smelly, and carrying a stick that looked like a huge tree trunk! Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick teamed up and took him down with a few beautiful binding and stunning spells! Professor Sprout even tied him up like a giant dumpling with some kind of vine!"

"Were any students injured?" Miss Farley calmly asked the question that everyone was most concerned about.

"Thank goodness! Thank goodness!" The fat monk waved his transparent hand. "There weren't many students near the underground classroom at the time; they'd all been evacuated. Oh, except..."

He deliberately kept everyone in suspense, which drew a chorus of urging.

"Except for Potter and Weasley from Gryffindor!" the fat monk hushed, as if sharing a great secret, "I don't know how those two lads managed to sneak over there, they seemed to be trying to rescue their friend—that incredibly clever little witch, Granger! They almost ran right into the troll!"

A collective gasp filled the lounge.

"And then?" Draco asked eagerly, whether hoping to hear that Potter was in trouble or something else.

"And then?" The fat monk's expression became somewhat subtle. "Then Headmaster Dumbledore appeared as if he'd popped out of the ground! Seriously, I didn't even see how he got there! He was just there, standing between Potter, Weasley, and that big guy. The troll tried to swing his staff, and the headmaster just raised his hand—he didn't even chant a spell! The staff snapped in two with a 'crack'! The troll himself was also pinned down as if by an invisible hand, beaten to his knees! And then he was dragged out."

At this point, the fat monk's face clearly showed the expression of a bloodthirsty audience member, with a look that said, "Seeing this is worth dying for."

The description of the ghost is inevitably exaggerated, but the logic is still very clear: Dumbledore appeared in time, took control of the situation, and Potter and Weasley were in danger but unharmed.

"And... what about Miss Granger?" Daphne couldn't help but ask softly.

"Oh, that little witch!" The fat monk patted his transparent belly. "She really was in that haunted bathroom on the second floor at first, crying her heart out, even Moaning Myrtle was annoyed by her. But the headmaster seems to have taken her out first—there's a portrait showing him with her in the second-floor corridor, before the trolls were completely subdued. She's perfectly safe, just quite frightened. She's probably being watched by Madam Pomfrey with Potter and Weasley, or getting a lecture from Professor McGonagall."

"How did Headmaster Dumbledore know where Granger was?" a fourth-year Slytherin student asked, puzzled. "And how did he get there so quickly?"

"I heard it's His Highness Henry," Blood Man Barrow suddenly spoke up—he used the title "His Highness" instead of Henry or Mr. Wells.

All eyes in the common room immediately turned to Henry.