Ben was really over the lack of magic, by now; what had been fun and novel on the first day that it had applied to Hogsmeade was now growing boring and horribly inconvenient. He hadn't realized how much he used magic throughout his day until he suddenly couldn't, and the little things here and there — having to figure out where he'd put the hat he wanted to wear instead of just summoning it from the mess of his room, having to walk downstairs for breakfast instead of having it on a tray because the house-elves of Excalibur were overworked without the ability to use magic, that sort of thing — had left him in a rather irritable mood most of the day.

He'd been out for a stroll and bored out of his skull when he heard the commotion. Several loud crashes and some girl screaming run, which he did — but because Ben's self-preservation instinct wasn't really functioning the way a normal human's might, he ran towards the noise instead of away. It was hard to tell what was going on in the fog, but there was definitely a huge silhouette looming in front of him, and... was that a troll?

Ben had seen trolls more-or-less domesticated in America; they still had troll boxing events in some parts of New England. Those trolls had been tamed by the use of magic, however, and Ben wasn't at all sure how one went about subduing a troll without it. Get out of its way and hope for the best?

There was some screaming coming from inside the shop, and the sound of glass breaking. The troll seemed to be otherwise occupied for the moment with one of the rooftop decorations, which it had plucked off, so Ben was able to run past its heels and into the store, though the fog made it difficult to determine exactly how many people were here and who was in need of help. "Hey," he said, addressing the nearest figure he found. "Are you alright? Can you walk?"