Chapter Text
Who would have thought that sneaking a sleeping troll past hundreds of sleeping students would be so difficult?
Trolls are still extremely heavy with leviosa cast upon them. And their snores sound like a constant stream of dung-bombs being dropped in Professor Binns' classroom.
But this was how Romeo planned on helping Dumbledore with protecting the philosopher's stone. A troll with plenty of charms cast on and around himself to act as a big, dumb and smelly guard.
Just as Romeo passed by the entryway to the Gryffindor common room (troll floating limply behind him like a dead dog on a leash) he ran into his favorite person once again (two times in the same week was a new and unfortunately easy to beat record), Professor Snape.
Severus Snape never seemed to go to bed. Romeo was sure he didn't. "That makes two of us." He thought one night while angrily cutting into a piece of steak in the great hall.
"Professor Snape. Having a late night stroll, are we?"
Snape didn't say anything in response to Romeo's half-snarky comment. His pitch black almost beady eyes bore into his skull like he wanted nothing else but to be given permission to dig out Romeo's wide purple ones with a spoon.
"Muffilato." He murmured, glancing at the entryway to Gryffindor’s common room and then to the troll currently suspended about two feet above Romeo's head and dangerously close to hitting the moving staircases above. Immediately, the troll's snoring vanished as though Romeo had imagined it. A buzzing sound, fuzzy and faint, filled his ears.
"What did you just-"
Snape pushed past Romeo and began descending down the stairs, his long black cape billowing behind him like a carpet. Romeo huffed, murmuring a few not-so-school-appropriate words under his breath before carrying on. Just as he had promised, Dumbledore stood at the entryway to the third-floor corridor.
"Ah, brilliant as always, Professor." He praised. "This will scare any possible intruders even before they get the pleasure of meeting Fluffy. It's a bit of a shame, really."
"Fluffy, sir?"
"A cerberus, they're rather adorable." Dumbledore responded casually. "I am trying to plan things in a way that Fluffy doesn't risk getting injured, as per request of Hagrid."
"Right..." Romeo murmured, waving the troll into the corridor. He coughed as the air, thick with dust, hit his lungs.
He cast several charms; first a few on the troll itself in order to erase his memories. After all, it may not be so great if the troll remembers the man who kidnapped him. Romeo wanted to keep his flesh right where it was instead of inside a troll's rotten jaws.
The second wave of charms kept the troll "chained" to the corridor. He couldn't destroy the walls surrounding him or grow a brain and try the door handle. Dumbledore (Who in retrospect could have done all this himself.) thanked Romeo, shut the third-floor corridor shut tight and walked beside Romeo toward his quarters in a way that said "We must not be suspicious. We didn't just invite a big violent troll into Hogwarts. Why would we do such a thing?"
"I thank you for your help, Professor." Dumbledore said as they reached Romeo's door. "Now, get a good night's rest... who knows what tomorrow holds..."
"And you, sir." Romeo half-murmured. As a student, Dumbledore’s vague quotes were whimsical. As a professor, he found himself getting sick of them swiftly. "I'll see you at breakfast."
Anubis awaited Romeo impatiently. He perched upon the thick metal bar in his cage with clenched claws. It was dinner time, something Anubis hated to be late for. Usually, Romeo would get a nip the moment he walked through the door. But with age Anubis had become a little less energetically violent.
"Sorry buddy..." he poured the owl's food in his bowl. "I won't be late again, you know I'm usually back by this time..."
He sighed, resting his head on Anubis' desk as the owl pecked away at his food. "I don't understand any of this...I feel like by applying for this job I bit off more than I can chew. Who knew Hogwarts professors had to do so much work outside of classes?"
Anubis chirped half-heartedly in response and dove right back into his food bowl.
"What if he comes back?" he asked quietly, as if he was trying to have this conversation with another teacher while young students were present. "I mean, really? What if I start feeling that awful tug...like how I used to back then..."
At this point Romeo spoke only to himself. He knew it was a terribly horrid idea to overthink about this, as it was like begging his mind to present more awfully detailed nightmares to him. He knew the moment the dark lord's snakey face appeared in his head that he wouldn't be getting much- if any sleep that night. So, he wearily stood up and walked downstairs to his office to plan more work for his students or grade some things that had been handed in. The grading process was much fun, especially with the current project assigned to all classes. A few students knew exactly what to do and handed their finished paintings in with an entire week left until they were due. To Romeo's delight and relief, the paintings were well painted and beautifully explained in neatly written paragraphs on parchment.
The next few weeks were normal. September came and left, magical arts students were given new assignments, and all was well. October began with a bitter cold and damning gray skies. The students buzzed with early excitement for Halloween and Mr Filch requested during a staff meeting that Dumbledore reminded them not to play any tricks or else they'd be getting detention in the kitchens instead of treats that year.
Romeo's birthday was a jarring two weeks away. He would be lying if he said he didn't expect to be dead long before this age, but what can a wizard do besides go on?
This year Romeo was genuinely anxious about his birthday. In the past all celebrations were held with just himself, his mother, and the occasional grandparent. Aurors didn't care much for birthdays, especially not aurors with similar gruff personalities to his old team leader, Alastor Moody. The moment the clock struck midnight on October first Romeo felt the excited eyes of the other professors and even a few students on him at all times. (How they knew when his birthday was was beyond him) Professor McGonagall was more cheerful around him than usual and Professor Quirrell began acting even more suspicious- which Romeo previously believed to be impossible.
The Professor was a strange man, and Romeo tried his best to avoid his stuttery conversations as much as possible. The man couldn't get a single syllable out- especially if Harry Potter or Professor Snape were nearby.
Romeo was meandering toward the great hall one chilly October morning. He had his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. Every bit of exposed skin felt like it was dunked in ice cold water and unwanted memories threatened to spill into the shivers torturing his shoulders.
When he heard Snape and Quirrell’s hushed voices coming from Snape’s personal storage closet (Which Romeo discovered a few days ago and promptly snatched up some good paint dyeing ingredients from) as he walked by he didn’t think much of it at first. Snape hated Quirrell, he was visibly irritated by the man’s very hyper-fearing presence at all times. But when was Snape not looking irritated?
Exactly.
Romeo paused in his achy steps just beyond the closet door. One of the paintings on the wall glared at him skeptically, but didn’t share their opinion. The gloomy professor always looked irritated, everyone knew instantly if they were another of many sources of Snape’s misery- it was simply strange that he had the presumably innocent professor in his closet.
Damn my ravenclaw tendencies. Romeo thought as he stepped backward and angled his ear to the door.
“I’ll ask you one more time.” Snape’s distinctly sarcastic tone seeped through the door. “What were you doing inside of the third floor corridor? Taking a stroll?”
“I-I-wa-was-was just lost, Se-Se-e-everus. T-trying to loca-locate the- the-“
“Spit it out.”
“Great hall?” Quirrell answered, his voice cracking and hatching an air of humiliation.
Silence.
Romeo held his breath. He was screwed, he thought, he couldn’t walk away or his steps would alert Snape to his nosy presence. But he couldn’t stay. Snape was about to dramatically swing the door into the next dimension!
“Professor Hypnix-“
Romeo’s soul popped out of his body and then right back in as he whipped his head to the side and made eye contact with Professor McGonagall.
“Professor-!”
“Minerva.”
“Minerva.” Romeo grinned painfully wide. “Is something the matter?”
“Yes.” She said, her expression turning into that of a very concerned grandmother. “I just saw a strange looking man eavesdropping on Professor Snape’s personal ingredient stock.”
Romeo stood up straight, glancing worriedly at the door. Somehow this was worse than Snape opening the door and finding out Romeo was there by himself.
Oh. The annoying smirk he’d have if he caught Romeo eavesdropping by himself. He’d act like he just sensed it.
“I thought I saw- I thought I heard a student’s voice coming from inside. Professor Snape does like to complain about the older students breaking into his stock.”
Romeo had never felt more stupid than he did making up that story. He could tell by the dismayed twinkle in McGonagall’s catty eyes that she didn’t believe him for even a split second.
“I see.” She hummed, reaching for the door handle.
Romeo felt his heart drop out of his chest. No amount of mental preparation could save him from the imminent awkward situation McGonagall was about to innocently create.
Before her hand added any pressure to the door handle the door swung slowly open with a very pronounced squeaking at the hinges.
Snape’s face came into view through the growing gap between the frame and the door. Livid barely touched on describing it. Several students would’ve died and several more would’ve been injured by that look alone.
“Oh, pardon me Severus.” McGonagall spoke. “Professor Hypnix thought he might’ve heard a student speaking in here-“
“Professor Quirrell and I were having a private discussion. It would be wise for Professor Hypnix to mind. His. Business. Next time.”
Breakfast in the Great Hall was next to impossible to get through.
Romeo sat where he usually did; between McGonagall and Quirrell and awfully close to Snape.
Quirrell was silent. Not a single stuttered peep flew out of his mouth for the entirety of breakfast.
Snape, who sat on Quirrell’s other side, left early. Romeo wasn’t sure if he had seen him half heartedly chewing a piece of toast or not.
The conversation he’d heard stirred a paranoia soup in his stomach. What was Quirrell doing in the third floor corridor? Dumbledore had told Romeo every professor involved in guarding the stone, and Quirrell’s absence was the second most noticeable thing after Snape’s presence on the list that stuck out like a broken fingernail.
He felt a small twinge in his wrist.
I’m imagining it. He thought. I’m paranoid. The stone has nothing to do with him. Dumbledore said so, we’re just keeping it safe for his friend.
Shit. He’d thought too much about it. Now he was curious. The need-to-know overpowered his anxiousness by a long shot. What exactly was this stone? He was sure he’d read about it before. But who owned it, why was it being protected at Hogwarts of all places? And why the hell did Quirrell (or Snape) give a damn?
Deep down, Romeo knew the answer to all of these mysteries started with a big fat “V”.
Anubis impatiently ruffled his feathers. He sat on his golden perch next to Romeo’s desk in his quarters watching over Romeo as he read through his fourth book of the day.
The Philosopher’s stone just didn’t exist in writing, it seemed. The dim light from the candle flickered gently against the walls, counting down the seconds until it would be time to “wake up”.
Four a.m. that’s how late Romeo guessed it was. No wonder Anubis was annoyed; it was past his bedtime. Romeo forgot to give him his midnight snack. The candle was too bright. Romeo’s page flipping and soft sighs were too loud. - The Black Banded owl was pissed off.
Anubis normally would have bitten Romeo’s cheek as a reminder of his beloved owl waiting for bed. That night, Anubis eventually left him alone to pass out at his desk with papers and books strewn across it and messily scribbled notes all over the floor.
Like a true Ravenclaw.