Flowerpot

Written on a Whim

"Troll! In the dungeon! ...Thought you out to know."

As Professor Quirrel succumb to unconsciousness, the Hogwarts Halloween Feast fell to pandemonium. Within that sea of panic, one man maintained his calm. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, 1st Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and five time runner-up of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award (1905-1909), showed a serene expression that steadied the hearts of all who saw him.

Little did they know, of the true emotions that lay behind his kind, blue eyes.

This was it. This was the moment!

He gripped the edge of the Faculty dining table hard enough for his knuckles to whiten. His eyes twinkled merrily, and barely-suppressed elation threatened to spill over into a full-blown laugh.

With great difficulty, he reined himself in. Fortune had favored him this day, and he intended to seize the opportunity it offered.

Now, he must play this with care.

"Prefects will lead their house—"

House, in ambiguous term, so as to not raise suspicion that he paid special attention to any particular person.

"—back to their dormitories!"

The dormitories, the place of safety in their minds. In times of turmoil, of course he would point them that way, of course he wanted them out of harm's way. Dotty old Dumbledore was nothing if not kind. Heheheheh.

He willed the student body to heed his call, hoping against hope. Quicker than all the others, his brave Gryffindors scurried away to the Seventh Floor, the furthest place in the school from the dangers of this night.

The loyal Hufflepuffs rushed after, and their bulk honed by years living next to the kitchen allowed them to push and shove the smaller ones out of the way in order to get out of the room.

The intelligent Ravenclaws panicked and milled around, headless. They should have time, since their destination lied in the opposite direction of the troll. Probably.

But it was not they who he truly watched. He needed someone else to take the bait. Or rather, someones.

And...and...

Yes!

The students of the fourth House of Hogwarts, the cunning Slytherins stupidly obeyed his orders by their own accord!

This will be the day he's waiting for! This will be the day those scaly little shits sealed their fate! The troll was in the dungeon, right where they were headed. At last, he will rid Hogwarts of its damnable infestation.

I have had it with all these motherfucking snakes in this motherfucking school!

The next day

Why, in all the unholy hells, was the troll on the second floor!? It nearly killed some of his precious Gryffindors, including poor innocent Harry!

End Notes: Dumbledore is a consummate Gryffindor, and is therefore always looking for an opportunity to kill off all the Slytherins.