CHAPTER TEN
Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after
Snape’s fading footsteps.
“He’s heading for the third floor,” Harry said, but Ron held up
his hand.
“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 moon-
light.
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, gran-
ite 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 wag-
gled 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 great leap, Harry man-
aged to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.
“Yes!”
Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the pas-
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