The Great Hall was a spectacle of light and celebration. Dozens of floating pumpkins hovered above the four house tables, their carved faces glowing with warm orange light. The ceiling mirrored the stormy sky outside, with occasional flashes of lightning illuminating the enchanted decorations.
The food was extravagant, as always—roast meats, pumpkin pasties, golden treacle tarts, and jugs of steaming butterbeer. The scent of spices and sugar filled the air, adding to the festive mood.
Elias sat with the Slytherins, quietly observing. He knew what was coming.
Tonight was the night of the Troll Incident.
His gaze drifted toward the staff table. Dumbledore looked relaxed, speaking with McGonagall, while Snape sat stiffly, his dark eyes scanning the students as though anticipating something.
Elias already knew what was about to happen.
And then—
BANG!
The doors to the Great Hall slammed open.
A figure burst in, panting, pale, and trembling.
Professor Quirrell.
His purple turban was slightly askew, his eyes wild with panic. His voice came out in a strangled, terrified cry:
"TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON!"
Silence fell over the hall.
Then, as if suddenly too overwhelmed, Quirrell staggered, his voice weaker now.
"…Thought you ought to know."
With that, he collapsed onto the stone floor.
For a brief moment, there was complete stillness. Then—
Screams erupted from all directions.
Panic spread like wildfire. Some students jumped from their seats, while others clung to their housemates. The younger students looked around in terror, while the older ones were already edging toward the doors.
Elias, however, remained seated, completely calm. Everything was playing out exactly as it should.
Up at the front of the hall, Dumbledore stood.
"SILENCE!"
His voice rang through the Great Hall, cutting through the panic like a blade. Instantly, the students fell quiet.
His sharp blue eyes scanned the room before he spoke again.
"Prefects, lead your houses back to their dormitories immediately," he instructed. "Professors, follow me."
The professors wasted no time—McGonagall was already moving, ushering the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws out. Flitwick hurried alongside her, while Sprout was guiding the Hufflepuffs.
Snape, however, was different.
He barely spared the students a glance before striding toward the doors, his black robes billowing behind him. Elias knew exactly where he was going—to check the third-floor corridor.
The Slytherin prefects called for their house to follow. Elias stood up and blended into the group.
He would not interfere.
This event was crucial to the original timeline. There was no need to change it.
As the Great Hall emptied, Elias followed the rest of Slytherin House, his expression unreadable.
The night would unfold exactly as it should.
The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual that night. The students had been ushered back safely, but the tension in the air was undeniable. Rumors were already spreading.
Some whispered that the troll had been found and defeated by the professors. Others claimed that a group of Gryffindors had foolishly gone after it themselves.
Elias sat in a secluded corner, his thoughts unreadable.
He already knew the truth.
By now, Harry Potter and his friends had encountered the troll in the girls' bathroom. And, as the story went, they had somehow managed to survive, cementing the bond of their friendship.
A crucial event in the original timeline.
He didn't need to interfere.
The following morning, the Great Hall was buzzing with excitement.
The moment Elias stepped inside, he heard snippets of conversation from every direction.
"I heard Potter knocked the troll out with one punch!""No, no—Granger used some kind of spell, and Weasley saved her!""Professor McGonagall gave them house points! Can you believe that?"
Elias took his seat at the Slytherin table, tuning out the gossip.
At the staff table, Dumbledore sat as composed as ever, but his gaze swept over the students with quiet calculation. Elias had noticed it before—the way the headmaster seemed to watch certain individuals with more interest.
Snape, on the other hand, looked furious. His black eyes burned with irritation as he glared toward the Gryffindor table. No doubt because Potter and Weasley had somehow received points instead of punishment.
As Elias reached for his goblet, he felt a sharp nudge on his side.
Draco Malfoy smirked at him.
"Can you believe this?" Malfoy scoffed. "Potter gets rewarded for breaking school rules. Typical Gryffindor nonsense."
Elias simply took a sip of his drink before responding. "It's how the system works. Get used to it."
Malfoy scowled but didn't argue.
Further down the table, Daphne Greengrass was watching the Gryffindors with a thoughtful expression.
Pansy Parkinson, who had been clinging to Draco's arm, scoffed loudly. "Honestly, I don't know why people think Potter is special. If he really fought a troll, why isn't he in the Hospital Wing?"
Elias ignored the conversation. He had no interest in debating whether Harry Potter was special or not. He already knew the answer.
The Room of Requirement
Elias had known about it from his past life's memories—the legendary hidden chamber within Hogwarts, capable of taking the form of whatever the seeker required.
He needed a place to train in solitude.
And so, that night, he walked down the seventh-floor corridor and focused his mind on what he needed most:
"A place where I can practice magic without anyone knowing."
A door appeared before him.
Inside, the room stretched endlessly, lined with spellbooks, enchanted dummies, and glowing runes of protection to contain magical outbursts.
Training Begins
Elias wasted no time.
1. Spell Control
With a flick of his wand, he sent a series of nonverbal spells toward an enchanted target—each hitting with pinpoint accuracy.
His goal was precision and efficiency. Raw power meant nothing if his spells were wild and unfocused.
2. Magic Reserves
Closing his eyes, Elias focused on his magic core, circulating it through his body.
Most first-years had barely awakened their magical pathways, but his reserves were already comparable to fifth-years.
He needed more.
By continuously expanding and compressing his magic, he was strengthening his control over it, pushing his limits further.
3. Dueling
Summoning a training dummy, Elias practiced dodging and countering spells at blinding speed.
Blocking. Redirecting. Overpowering.
With each duel, his movements became sharper, his responses faster.
He was turning himself into a weapon.
Observing the School
While Elias trained in secret, he observed the school dynamics.
Dumbledore still kept an eye on him, but never interfered.
Snape seemed wary of him, though his focus remained on Potter.
Draco Malfoy had taken a liking to Elias, constantly talking about blood purity—though Elias merely listened without agreeing.
Daphne Greengrass, intelligent and observant, had started noticing his secrecy.
And yet, Elias remained distant.
Everything he did was with a single goal in mind—becoming strong enough to control his fate.