Marvel: Supreme Wizard

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"Wow, there's so much food today."

Noah gazed at the grand feast spread across the Great Hall, a smile tugging at his lips.

Truth be told, he had never been particularly fussy about food. Ever since he had thrown himself into studying magic, his appetite had lessened somewhat. Perhaps it was because he was too absorbed in his research? Noah wasn't entirely sure. Still, he believed in enjoying a good meal when the opportunity presented itself.

And right now, if he didn't sample everything that looked delicious, it would be an unforgivable waste.

"There's certainly a lot," Lance agreed, eyeing the dishes laid out before them. "French snails, pasta, American steak… Honestly, Britain should really invest some effort into its cuisine instead of dumping ketchup on everything and calling it a meal."

He made a face at the thought.

"But ketchup is vegetarian and full of nutrients," Evan countered. "My mum always says eating too much greasy food is bad for you. You'll end up as big as Longbottom."

Lance snorted. "Then by all means, keep eating that fish stewed in tomato sauce. I, on the other hand, am going to try these French snails. I read in a Muggle magazine that they have more protein than beef, lamb, and pork—less fat too, and packed with minerals and vitamins. I've always wanted to try them, but as a kid, they seemed too disgusting."

Kenn chuckled as he got up to fetch a plate, while Lance headed straight for the South American barbecue.

Evan, however, remained seated, looking skeptical. "Noah, are snails really that nutritious?"

"More or less," Noah replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "They contain enzymes that aid digestion, plus glutamic acid and aspartic acid, which supposedly enhance brain function. Some Muggle scientists even believe eating snails can improve skin and hair."

Evan wrinkled his nose. "Seriously? Slugs do all that? Maybe I should start conjuring them up."

"Please don't," Noah deadpanned. "The ones in the kitchen are specially bred. Who knows if your conjured slugs would be safe to eat?"

"Alright, alright," Evan muttered. "You always know everything, don't you?"

"Naturally," Noah said with a smirk.

Satisfied, he stood up to get his own meal. Hogwarts dining was essentially a buffet—you could take whatever you liked. Noah helped himself to a thick steak and a fresh fruit salad, though he sighed at the lack of red wine. That would have made the meal perfect.

Evan, meanwhile, hesitated before grabbing a plate of snails, his expression torn between curiosity and revulsion. Watching him poke at them gingerly was rather amusing.

Dinner carried on in a warm, lively atmosphere, and for once, even Noah and his friends chose to linger instead of rushing off to their usual study sessions.

But just as the feast was in full swing, the doors to the Great Hall burst open.

Professor Quirrell came stumbling in, his large purple turban askew, his face pale as parchment.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" he gasped, his voice trembling. "Thought you ought to know—"

With that, he promptly collapsed onto the floor.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, chaos erupted.

Students shrieked, dishes clattered, and panic spread like wildfire.

Professor Dumbledore, however, remained unfazed. With a sharp flick of his wand, a series of firecrackers exploded overhead, crackling through the air. The hall fell silent once more.

"Prefects," Dumbledore commanded, his voice firm but calm, "lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."

The prefects sprang into action, calling for their Housemates to form lines.

"A troll?" Evan muttered under his breath. "How did a troll end up in the castle?"

"Maybe someone was keeping it in the dungeons and lost control of it?" Kenn suggested casually, sipping his pumpkin juice.

Lance, meanwhile, seemed entirely unbothered. "Reckon it's a mountain troll, a forest troll, or a river troll?"

His tone was almost cheerful. Then again, trolls—while enormous and brutish—were famously dim-witted. They had a number of weaknesses, particularly their eyes, which made them easier to deal with than their size suggested. A simple Lumos Maxima could blind them long enough to get away.

Noah, however, was lost in thought.

Something wasn't right. He distinctly remembered that in the original events, the troll incident had occurred after they learned the Levitation Charm. But now? It was happening earlier.

So much for avoiding the plot entirely.

"Guess fate isn't something you can dodge," he murmured to himself.

With a shake of his head, he fell in line behind the Ravenclaw prefect. It was clear they wouldn't be allowed to leave the dorms tonight—doors would be locked, and they'd likely even have bed checks.

But just as they were walking out of the Great Hall, Noah spotted something unusual.

Two figures were slipping away from the line, moving in the opposite direction.

Harry and Ron.

They were sneaking off—no doubt heading to find Hermione, who, if Noah's memory was correct, was still in the girls' bathroom, completely unaware of the danger.

For a moment, Noah hesitated.

This was the moment that solidified the so-called Golden Trio. If Harry and Ron successfully warned Hermione and defended her against the troll, their bond would be unshakable.

But what if things went differently?

Noah wasn't particularly sentimental, but he was also no fool. Hermione Granger was destined for greatness—Minister for Magic, no less. If he could intervene now, perhaps he could shift the future in his favor.

Winning Hermione over early could be a tremendous advantage.

Making up his mind, he turned to his friends and muttered, "I'll go check things out. You lot head back to the dorms."

Evan blinked. "What?"

Noah didn't answer. Instead, he broke away from the group, slipping into the shadows and following after the two Gryffindor boys.

He had a troll to find.

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