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"Can
you smell something?"
Harry sniffed and a foul
stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of
public toilet no one seems to clean.
And then they heard it --
a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron
pointed -- at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was
moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it
emerged into a patch of moonlight.
It was a horrible sight.
Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy
body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a
coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet.
The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden
club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.
The troll stopped next to
a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its
tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.
"The key's in the
lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."
"Good idea,"
said Ron nervously.
They edged toward the
open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it.
With one giant leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and
lock it.
"Yes!"
Flushed with their
victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached
the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop -- a high, petrified
scream -- and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.
"Oh, no," said
Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.
"It's the girl's
bathroom!" Harry gasped.
"Hermione!"
they said together.
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