For most people, even a second’s hesitation in the face of an invitation from the legendary wizard Dumbledore would mean their mind was seriously muddled.
But Bruce was different.
He kept mentally confirming with Kathoom, “Do you think Dumbledore has some ulterior motive for inviting me?”
“Of course he does!”
Kathoom was now fully awake, his earlier drowsiness gone, replaced by an intense curiosity about this sudden development.
“Hogwarts is filled with talented students—why didn’t he invite anyone else? Why just you? No offense, but you’re not that special. There’s definitely something fishy going on!”
Despite Kathoom’s attempt at encouragement, Bruce couldn’t help but feel insulted.
He muttered defensively, “Actually, I am pretty exceptional. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I thought you supported Dumbledore—didn’t expect you to be suspicious of him, too.”
“Of course I’m suspicious!” Kathoom replied, indignant. “Dumbledore and I have a score to settle!”
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
What kind of grudge could an owl possibly have with Dumbledore?
“You were there too, but you obviously didn’t notice,” Kathoom said, his tone dripping with resentment. “Remember the first time we met Dumbledore? He had you sit across from him and conjured two cups of hot cocoa.”
Bruce did remember—he hadn’t drunk the cocoa, preferring to stick to his usual ginger tea for health reasons.
“That’s Dumbledore’s original sin!” Kathoom lamented, communicating loudly through their mental link. “I was there too, yet he didn’t conjure a cup for me! Such utter disrespect; clearly, Dumbledore’s days are numbered!”
What nonsense!
Bruce immediately regretted seeking Kathoom’s opinion.
Although the mental exchange had been quick, only a few seconds had passed when Bruce returned his attention to Dumbledore’s invitation.
“Thank you for the offer, Headmaster, but…” Bruce hesitated, deciding it was safer to keep his distance from the old man. But before he could finish, Dumbledore interrupted.
“Don’t make a hasty decision, Bruce.”
Dumbledore’s gaze softened as he looked at the young Bat. “Take a few days to think it over. I’m in no rush for an answer.”
It felt less like an invitation and more like a veiled threat. The old man had his eye on him.
With no other choice, Bruce stalled. “I’ll give it careful thought. Thank you, Headmaster.”
Just wait, old man. Give me some time, and I’ll find a way to deal with you!
Unaware of Bruce’s thoughts, Dumbledore beamed at his response.
“Good, good!”
In his mind, Dumbledore made a decision—
Whether or not Bruce was the prophesied Dark Lord, he would keep a close eye on him.
The wizarding world couldn’t afford another dark prodigy.
In this moment, both the old headmaster and the young student came to an unspoken understanding.
Then, a silvery figure of a cat materialized in the distance.
“Headmaster, please come to the girls’ restroom immediately.”
Professor McGonagall’s voice issued from the Patronus. “Several students have encountered…difficulties!”
Bruce instantly realized who McGonagall was talking about.
Hermione!
—
A few minutes earlier.
“Please don’t, Professor McGonagall—they were looking for me.”
Hermione stood miserably in front of Professor McGonagall. “I was… I was trying to find the troll because I—I thought I could handle it myself. I’ve read about trolls; I know a lot about them.”
Harry and Ron stood by in shock, unable to believe Hermione was lying to protect them, taking full responsibility.
Nearby, a huge, ugly creature lay unconscious on the restroom floor—the troll that Harry and Ron had managed to subdue.
McGonagall nearly exploded at Hermione’s answer. “Miss Granger, you silly girl! How could you possibly believe you could face a creature the size of a mountain by yourself?”
She docked five points from Gryffindor for Hermione’s recklessness—but then awarded fifteen points for their courage in facing the troll.
Afterward, she used her Patronus to inform Dumbledore of the incident.
Upon receiving the message, Dumbledore Apparated to the scene with Bruce in tow. But the headmaster stayed hidden, choosing to observe from the shadows.
The matter had been resolved, and his presence would only make the children more anxious.
But Bruce had no such reservations; he darted toward Hermione immediately.
Covered in dust and looking more disheveled than ever, Hermione had held her composure, suppressing her emotions.
Until she saw Bruce.
Sometimes, a person can hold their strength together, their composure unbroken, until they see someone they trust.
Hermione had spent the entire afternoon crying alone in the restroom after hearing Ron’s unkind remarks behind her back.
She thought she’d run out of tears, that even after facing a troll, she couldn’t cry anymore.
But the moment she saw Bruce, her mouth wobbled, and she began to sob uncontrollably.
“Bruce—”
She broke down, pulling him close and burying her head in his shoulder.
Bruce was at a loss, unsure how to comfort her.
“There, there, Hermione… really, don’t cry… you’re getting snot on my robe…”
At least now, everything was safe.
Professor McGonagall sent Harry and Ron back to their dormitory, and even managed to shoo away Professor Quirrell, who was sobbing near the sinks.
Finally, once Hermione had calmed down, Bruce walked her back to the Gryffindor Tower.
When he left, Dumbledore had already disappeared without a trace.
It was just him and Kathoom again.
Bruce felt a heavy weight in his chest. He hadn’t expressed it openly, but he was furious.
Breaking the silence, he finally spoke. “Kathoom, why are you so quiet?”
Kathoom responded distractedly, “Oh, I was just thinking… that troll’s life had value too. Maybe it could’ve been used for a Horcrux.”
Bruce scowled. “What?”
“Never mind,” Kathoom said, snapping back to the present. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Fine, then I’ll say it.”
Bruce took a deep breath. “Kathoom, you know, Hermione might not be family in the strictest sense, but after nearly a year together, I see her as family now—and no one hurts my family!
“That troll didn’t just appear at Hogwarts by accident. Someone must have let it in.
“Kathoom, you always act like you know everything, so tell me the truth. Do you know who’s behind this? Who was it?”
The owl was silent for a moment.
Bruce’s anger was real, his emotions raw and intense.
Finally, Kathoom spoke, his tone calm. “Bruce, I’ll be honest with you—I do know. I know everything.”
He paused before continuing, “But I’m not going to tell you who it was.”
“Why not?”
Bruce spun around, his confusion evident.
Kathoom’s response was cool, “No particular reason, Bruce. You’ve spent a year honing your mind, learning all those detective skills.
“Now that you’ve encountered a real case, are you telling me you can’t deduce the truth on your own?”
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