Going Out with a Bang

Seeing Hermione vanish from sight gave George an immense amount of relief. The troll continued to advance toward George until his back was against the wall. A sinister smile formed on its deformed face as if it was a cat cornering a mouse. It raised its club high into the air with a confident look of certainty that this was the end for George.

At the same time, George brandished his Letter Opener out of his shredded robe and prepared himself for the counter-attack. The end of the rod instantly heated up to its maximum temperature causing it to glow bright red. He aimed to slash at the club as it descended towards him and split it into two. This exercise was nothing more than a test, he had nothing to prove to himself by defeating this troll.

Time seemed to slow down as George cleared his mind and exclusively concentrated on the club descending towards him. He calculated the location it would hit and swiftly moved his body to the left to avoid the attack. The club brushed past George's face creating a massive gust of air in its wake. He could even smell the odour of rotten wood as it brushed past his nose.

Before the club hit the ground, George craned his arm back in preparation to swing the rod. He used all of his strength in his arm and shoulder to launch the stick forward and strike the club. His arm moved so fast that the rod left an orange after-image. Just as the glowing hot rod was roughly half a foot away from making contact with the club, George felt a bolt of lightning go down his shoulder and into his arm.

The initial sensation felt just like his alarm clock, but a fraction of a second later, George felt his shoulder muscles tearing away from the bone. He instantly lost all the strength in his swing as his arm was merely carried by its momentum. The rod struck the club and bored a hole straight through the middle of it. The wood vaporised on contact with the rod and produced large black plumes of smoke obscuring George's vision.

To his horror, the smoke cleared and George saw that his momentum only carried the rod two-thirds of the way through the club. The next thing he felt was the ground tremble as the shockwave of the club hitting the ground reached his feet. Both George and the troll looked at each other at the same time with a similar expressions of surprise.

George could see what the troll was planning and he immediately tried to pull the rod out of the club, but no matter how hard he tried, the stick wouldn't budge. The troll swung the club into the air in response and consequently launched George on the same trajectory since he was still firmly gripping the rod. He gave up on pulling the rod out and let go in mid-air. George fell over ten feet and the back of his head hit the ground.

At that moment his vision went completely black and he lost consciousness. It took a second for George to regain his vision in which the first thing he saw was the foot of the troll rising into the air ready to stomp on him like an insect. The muscles in his back were cramping and he'd lost the ability to use his right hand. He was also suffering from what was most likely a concussion and his vision was narrowing like he was wearing horse blinkers.

George wanted to roll to one side, but his body wasn't responding quickly enough. The only thing he had the strength to do in time was raise both his legs to intercept the large padded foot heading straight towards his chest. The troll's foot collided with George's feet and his knees were slammed against his chest causing a few ribs to instantly break. One of those broken ribs must have punctured a lung because whilst all of the air was being forced out of his body, George spat out a fountain of blood.

His consciousness continued to fade as his legs buckled and his remaining intact ribs fractured under the weight of the troll's leg. George could no longer breathe and his brain was turning off due to a lack of oxygen. One of the last remaining sensations George had before blacking out was the feeling of cold blood running down his cheek and into his eyes, dying his vision red.

The next thing George felt was an explosion of heat coming from his chest as his heart started beating ridiculously fast. The warmth travelled out from his chest and down each one of his limbs filling them with copious amounts of energy. Once the heat travelled to his head, George regained consciousness and opened his eyes to vaguely see his legs pushing back against the troll's foot.

Through the blood clotting over his vision, George could just about make out all of the muscles in his legs spasming so intensely. It looked like he had one hundred snakes stuffed down his pants desperately trying to wriggle out. He could feel the muscles tearing off his femurs only to reattach themselves the next moment. His body was somehow able to heal as fast as it was getting injured.

His trousers were ripping at the seams and talons started to protrude out of the tips of his leather shoes. George was instinctively clenching his toes and stabbing the talons into the soul of the troll's foot drawing purple blood. Although his legs were shaking like he was being electrocuted, George was successfully pushing the troll's foot into the air and relieving pressure off his chest.

His first deep breath provided George with a great deal of relief as it restored a lot of clarity to his senses. It was at that moment that he realised he was in the middle of a transformation. The stress of nearly dying had been enough to overcome the effects of his medication and fortunately saved his life. His broken ribs were wiggling around under his skin as his expanding chest muscles reassembled his rib cage. His punctured lung was healed and his breathing was back to normal.

Unfortunately, the troll noticed George starting to overpower the weight of its leg so it leaned over and put its entire body weight on top of him. The pressure on George's transforming legs increased by over four times. He felt like a mountain had just been dropped on top of him as his legs buckled once again. His knees hit his rapidly repairing ribs much harder than before, this caused his chest to collapse and his internal organs to be crushed. Another bout of air and blood was forced out from his lungs.

George's mind once again became cloudy and his vision turned red, but this wasn't due to his fading consciousness or him nearing death. Instead, he was overcome with a raging primal emotion. Unfiltered fury caused him to flail madly at the troll's foot with his rapidly growing arms. He dug his newly grown claws into the leathery flesh as deep as he could, creating large gashes.

His crazed eyes fell onto one of the troll's toenails as George got the idea to rip it off, he dug his claws underneath the toenail and tore it off with all of his strength. He was doused with a spray of purple blood pouring out of the troll's open wound as its toenail flew through the air. George didn't stop there, he then dug his claws into the open wound and shredded the soft muscle and fat inside the toe.

Clearly, this attack upset the troll because it instantly lifted the weight off of George's body and took several steps backwards whilst moaning in pain. Full of blood lust, George ignored his broken bones and torn muscles as he clambered to his feet in the rags of what used to be his school uniform and got ready to fight. The only thing going through his mind was ripping this troll apart for daring to try and kill him. He would never be prey to such an inferior creature.

His caved-in rib cage instantaneously popped back into place as he continued to grow taller and more draconic. George was still only a fraction of the size of the troll but the gap was shrinking by the second. His eyes were firmly fixed with pure hatred on the troll's disgusting face which was probably why he didn't see the club swinging directly towards him. The club collided with his left arm, instantly breaking it, and sent him flying against a wall of sinks.

The wall trembled from the impact and several sinks were shattered into pieces, dozens of ceramic shards were embedded into his body. George leaned against the cracked tiled wall and shook his head to clear away the nausea. Then he looked down at his left arm and saw it was bent into a U shape with his broken bones piercing his flesh. He grabbed the mangled arm with his spare hand and wrenched it straight.

Then George turned back to the troll and roared in anger sending blood and spital flying through the air. A touch of fear appeared on the troll's face after hearing his unfiltered fury. George proceeded to grab one of the relatively intact sinks off the ground and threw it directly at the troll's head, he used all of his strength and once again tore the muscles in his back. The sink shattered into a million pieces after smashing into the troll's forehead, it stumbled left and right with a clearly dazed look on its face.

The satisfaction of finally landing a blow on the troll was enough to quell a small portion of George's anger, this lapse in blind rage allowed the Calming Draught to kick back in. George once again realised what was happening to him and knew the consequences if someone was to walk into the bathroom. Without hesitation, he plunged his clawed hand into his abdomen without an incantation and reached for the medication with no regard for his organs.

George ripped through his intestines, leaving massive internal bleeding in his wake, until he reached the fleshy sack. He grabbed as many 'sweets' as he could and then pulled his hand back out of his abdomen. George saw three small yellow sweets coated in blood in the palm of his deformed hand. He threw all three of them into his mouth and swallowed them in one go.

Instantly, his body started to change back to its original size faster than it had ever done before. Although battered and bruised, George was practically back to his normal self within a couple of seconds. The quick transformation back into a human almost knocked him out, but the immense pain he was in helped keep his eyes open. Now he had to enact plan B before this travesty of a mess got any more out of hand.

George looked at the troll and noticed that It was steadying itself against the wall whilst cradling its head. Blood was trickling down from an open wound across its forehead. He didn't hesitate to reach into his enchanted sack to get his wand and a new robe. He quickly threw the robe over himself and leaned against the wall as he cast the Disillusionment charm to blend in with the surroundings.

He had to remain motionless and pray that the charm worked correctly since he couldn't tell from the inside. George nervously waited as he heard the troll walk around the bathroom obviously looking for him. He could hear its loud snorts as it tried tracking his scent. After roughly a dozen seconds, George was relieved that his spell must have worked. The 'calming' atmosphere was quickly broken by George hearing the club slam against the ground, causing him to jump out of his skin.

It didn't hit him though, instead, the earth-shaking sound came from the centre of the bathroom. It didn't only happen once, he heard the club hit the ground over and over again. Each subsequent thud was louder than the last. George couldn't understand why the troll was randomly swinging its club. He wondered if it was just guessing where he was by swinging wildly.

George's curiosity won out, so he slowly lowered the robe so that the top of his head was poking out. He saw the troll beating its club repeatedly against the ground in a blind panic. The reason for this mindless violence didn't take George long to work out. The end of the club was on fire, it must have been trying to put the flame out by slamming it against the ground. But every time the club hit the ground, the roaring flame grew larger.

George focused his eyes on the wild flame and saw the Letter Opener embedded at the end of the club falling apart. Chunks of orange crystal were crumbling away revealing the hairline cracks underneath. The hairline cracks had spread down the shaft and had started spraying plumes of fire out like a blow torch. His frail connection with the rod told him that It was on the verge of exploding and he was definitely in the blast radius.

Just as George was getting to his feet, he heard the sound of the doors opening to the bathroom and saw three people he didn't want to see right now enter the room. Harry and Ron's attention were both stolen by the troll frantically waving around its flaming club, Ron even looked to be a little entertained whereas Harry appeared to be confused. Hermione, on the other hand, was looking for George with a very concerned look on her face.

George mustered what little energy he had left to run directly towards them. He performed a combat roll right through the legs of the troll, which hadn't even noticed him as it was far too preoccupied with committing suicide, and tackled the three of them out of the bathroom. George pushed all three of them out of the door like a rugby player, causing all of them to stumble to the ground in the corridor.

"What did you do that for?", Ron shouted at George who was lying on top of him.

"George, what happened? Are you alright?", Hermione shouted whilst staring at his tattered uniform.

George didn't answer either of them as he stood up as quickly as he could and turned around to face the still-open double doors. He grabbed the handles and slammed them shut, then he desperately looked for a locking mechanism but all he found was a small insignificant lock and key. As a last resort, he pulled out his wand and held it at the gap in the doors. The dulled metal frame began glowing bright red and started to melt. George ran his wand along the seam as he welded the doors together.

Then he turned around and shouted at the trio, "we have to run away right now or…!"

Before George could even finish his sentence, an ear-splitting bang came from behind him. Instinctively, he fell to his feet and covered his ears as the whole castle shook from the shockwave. A wave of hot air slapped against his back and sent him tumbling away from the bathroom. All George could see was; rafters, ground, rafters, ground, rafters, ground, as he spun through the air and landed face down on the cold floor.

George slowly lifted his body off the ground as grey dust fell from the ceiling, completely obscuring his vision. He climbed to his unsteady feet and covered his mouth with his robe. After about twenty seconds of nothing but high-pitch ringing, the dust started to settle and George's mouth fell wide open. His surroundings could be best described as standing in the middle of a war zone after an artillery strike. It was a miracle that the ceiling hadn't collapsed.

The huge metal door he'd just welded together had deformed to the point that it looked like a train had rammed into it from the opposite side. The mangled hinges were barely holding the door to the walls. It was a good thing they hadn't run away though because the bathroom's stone walls had fallen apart. The dozens of large stones must have weighed half a ton on either side of George. Any one of them could have crushed the children flat.

Thick black smoke kept on flooding out of the holes and cracks in the retaining wall and was rising to the rafters in the corridor, it smelt of tar and burnt wood. Even as George analysed the destruction he had caused, a stone pillar beside the door started crumbling and fell towards him. His legs were so exhausted that he barely had the energy to jump to one side. Luckily, he felt someone pull him out of harm's way. The pillar hit the ground with another loud bang and sent another plume of dust into the air.

George turned around and saw a dust-covered Harry grabbing his torn sleeve. His hair was grey and his glasses were cracked.

"Are you okay!?", Harry shouted whilst coughing from the dust.

George didn't answer, but instead, he looked for Hermione and Ron to see if they were injured. Just because he was fine didn't mean that they had escaped unscathed. He saw Hermione and Ron cowering at the far side of the corridor, their hands were shaking as they continued to cup their ears. George could see tears running down their faces, the bursting of their eardrums must have caused them a lot of pain.

George looked back at Harry and said loudly over the ringing, "it isn't safe here. We should all leave and find a professor!"

As if his words had some sort of summoning power, three adult figures appeared out of the haze and stopped beside them. George recognised them as Snape, Quirrell and McGonagall, all of which looked equally concerned and surprised. McGonagall pulled out her wand and held it into the air. The tip of her wand glowed and all the floating dust instantly fell to the ground before disappearing. The clearing of the haze completely exposed the trio and George to the professors.

"Oh my goodness. What on Earth has happened here?", McGonagall said whilst putting her hand over her mouth.

All of the professors appeared to have noticed the magnitude of destruction to the girl's bathroom. Even Snape looked to be in shock as he stared at the damage to the bathroom's doors. Quirrell stayed back as McGonagall advanced towards the students whilst Snape headed towards the bathroom. Snape gave George a very peculiar look before turning his attention to the buckling doors, it seemed that he'd already worked out the culprit.

George's attention was brought back to McGonagall as she asked them in a shaky voice, "are any of you hurt?"

The trio and George all gathered around McGonagall, but none of them answered her.

George stepped forward and shouted while pointing toward his ears, "the explosion ruptured our eardrums! We can't hear you, professor!"

McGonagall looked at George for a moment and nodded nervously, "very well. All of you, follow me to madam Pomfrey so she can restore your hearing. Professor Quirrell, stay here and make sure that no other students go anywhere near the bathroom."

The trio seemed to get the message as they started following McGonagall, but they stopped after hearing another loud noise coming from behind them. They all turned around and saw the bathroom's bent doors finally give in as the hinges broke free from the wall. Snape swiftly moved to one side of the door as it fell forward, his black robes fluttered as the door clattered to the ground. It was then that George saw what had collided with the door to create such a large indentation.

Half of the troll's smouldering body was firmly embedded into the door, the other half must have been incinerated in the explosion. It didn't take long for the well-done troll's odour to make its way over to George and fill his nostrils with a truly foul scent. All of the trio used their dusty robes to cover their faces. Snape was the only one who didn't look bothered by the smell, he seemed far too interested in inspecting the giant smouldering corpse.

McGonagall saw the dead troll as well with a look of horror, she suddenly appeared a lot more motivated to hurry the students along to the Hospital. Just as the group reached the end of the corridor, George saw the vase of flowers on the floor. The vase had tipped over and all of the sparkly water had poured out, some of the flower heads had even been stepped on. George just shook his head and kept walking, he didn't need another reminder of how badly this horrific day had gone.

Hermione however, stopped walking and knelt to pick them up. She put all of the flowers back in the vase and carried them to the Hospital with her. She even sniffed them occasionally and a tiny smile briefly formed on her tear-stained face. George felt faintly happy knowing that not everything had gone wrong, at least she liked the flowers.